Cold remained in his skin.
Nclai was seated on the border of a small bed in his appointed chamber, and he leaned his hand against his knee, and the little relic of the blood mark yet showed on his knee, dim and faint as the reflection of a coal in ashes.
He tapped fingers.
No, really there was no pain. Nothing but an artificial heat.
The room was dark. No decoration, stone walls, iron lined window. Nothing for distraction.
A familiar chime echoed faintly in his mind.
...
[Crimson Sovereign Protocol: Stable]
[Sync Ratio: 2%]
[No new skills unlocked]
...
He exhaled through his nose.
Outside, the academy bell tolled once. Then again. Morning assembly.
He didn't rush.
...
The courtyard buzzed louder than yesterday.
Most of the newly awakened had returned to their groups, bragging about rankings or laughing about who fainted during the ritual. Their robes were cleaner now, replaced with fresh academy colors... black and burgundy, the mark of vampire clans still clinging to nobility.
Nclai walked past them. Silent. No one noticed.
No... one pretended not to.
He passed a small group of older initiates gathered beneath the eastern arch.
"That him?" one muttered.
"The one who didn't even register?"
"No skill, no projection. Probably a defect."
He didn't stop. Didn't even glance.
A sharp laugh behind him, forced.
"Perhaps he never remembered to put his hand on the crystal" said somebody mockingly.
Then another voice. Lighter. Sharper.
"Or maybe it shattered because it couldn't handle a ghost's blood."
Laughter broke out. Faint, brittle.
Nclai paused at the end of the corridor.
He turned his head slightly, just enough for one eye to meet theirs across the space.
The air tightened.
No words. No response.
They went quiet first.
...
Lyra caught up to him near the south garden.
"You didn't hit anyone," she said.
He arched a brow.
"That's progress," she added.
Nclai looked ahead. "They're not worth hitting."
She studied his face. "You've changed."
He didn't respond.
They walked through the open arch into the assembly hall. Columns of obsidian marked the path inward, carved with symbols older than the academy itself. High above, floating screens began listing combat classes, skill awakening seminars, and bloodline discipline trials.
Nclai's name appeared on none of them.
"Your name isn't on any lists," Lyra said quietly.
"I know."
"They think you failed."
He didn't speak.
Lyra stopped. Her voice dropped. "Do you even care what they think?"
Nclai's eyes flicked toward the columns.
"The ones who talk loudest bleed easiest."
She shivered.
...
Later, in the training annex, Nclai stood in one of the isolated rings. Alone.
He raised his palm. The scar shimmered faintly.
He focused, not on power, but on silence. The stillness inside him.
Something stirred.
A twitch... as though something is pressing on his skin.
Then...
...
[Passive Trait Unlocked: Blood Sense - Lv.1]
You begin to sense nearby vampire blood fluctuations
Effectiveness: 3 meters
Mastery: 0.0%
...
He exhaled slowly. The stone beneath him pulsed once, faintly.
He could feel them now.
Faint heartbeats. Unfocused blood signatures. Panic in some, excitement in others.
Weakness, all of it.
He closed his eyes.
Then...
A whisper. Sharp, cold, and close.
"Azrael."
He turned.
No one there.
Only shadow and stone.
...