When the whistle blew, every demon on the tracks burst into frantic motion. Well, almost everyone.
Tsuramo wasn't exactly running; he was more like a slow-motion attempt at catching his breath, pausing to gulp air like a fish out of water.
Suddenly, he paused, a strange ringing noise pounding in his ears—so loud he had to shove his hair down over his ears to block it out.
It was like a thousand tiny bells had decided to go berserk.
Every CM class student was sprinting past him, chaos in their wake. But Tsuramo? He stood there, blinking slowly, looking around like a confused owl.
His eyes suddenly widened in horror.
"Hey! Look out! The beasts are here…" someone shouted, voice cracking with panic.
Tsuramo's eyes shot wide open as he saw what was coming.
The beasts were massive—gigantic demon creatures, the kind that refused to bow to Malakar, the dark overlord himself.
These weren't your average monsters; they were proud, ego-filled, and way too big for their own good.
Some of them looked like they'd been in one too many ego-boosting fights—muscles bulging, teeth flashing, roaring so loud that the ground trembled.
The roar was so deafening that a few students were sent flying like rag dolls.
Tsuramo immediately scrambled back toward Masakiro, whispering frantically, "How are they even going to deal with this now?"
Masakiro blinked, gulped, and shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? Our egg still hasn't hatched, remember?"
Tsuramo's eyes narrowed as he watched the chaos unfold.
The big demon beast was in full-on rage mode, destroying everything in sight—buildings, trees, even the clouds seemed to tremble at its might.
Just as they thought the worst, five more monstrous figures appeared from the shadows—big, terrifying, and glowing with demonic power.
The CM students trembled, some screaming and running for cover, convinced they weren't strong enough to fight these behemoths.
Masakiro, ever the brave, shouted after his brother, but Tsuramo? He stood tall, eyes glowing with the crimson fury of a demon, a smirk curling on his lips.
''You can go Masakiro...you're weak anyway.''
"Finally… some real action," he muttered darkly, clutching his sword's hilt confidently.
Just as he was about to summon his blade and make a dramatic entrance, a cold, sharp voice stopped him.
Someone grabbed his arm, yanking him back.
He turned—and there she was. A girl with icy blue hair streaked with midnight black, her piercing black pupils reflecting the chaos around her.
She was from the mysterious Nectorium clan—a vampire, no doubt, with sharp fangs glinting like tiny daggers.
Her expression was as cold as a winter storm, but her eyes held a strange spark of curiosity.
"Don't get any closer," she whispered softly, her voice like a winter breeze—chilling but mesmerizing. "It's dangerous."
Tsuramo blinked, confused. "Who… are you?"
She released his arm, her gaze steady and unblinking. "You're not strong enough," she said, voice as cold as her piercing stare.
"Let them handle this, Tsuramo. Stay back."
He hesitated '''How the.....does she know my name?'' watching her as she stepped back with the grace of a snowflake falling.
Her aura was icy, yet strangely alluring—a perfect blend of coldness and cuteness, like a frozen blossom.
As she turned to face the chaos with calm icy resolve, Tsuramo found himself blinking in disbelief.
"Well… that was unexpected," he muttered, gripping his sword tighter as the demons roared louder, and the battle erupted in a swirl of fire, ice, and chaos.
Luna, the icy vampire with a mysterious aura, paused mid-action.
She knew she wasn't exactly a powerhouse—her abilities were modest: shadow manipulation, mind reading, and illusion with shadows.
It was like wielding the shadow of the Shadow King himself, but she was just a vampire—not even close to his level.
Still, her confidence made her seem stronger than she was.
Suddenly, the scene exploded into chaos. A massive beast, with its head hanging at a bizarre angle, was still somehow clinging to life.
Its huge claws tore into the ground as it lifted a boy—who was screaming—off the ground.
The beast squeezed tighter, blood pouring from the boy's hand, then flung him across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
The boy crashed into a wall, blood dripping from his wounds, before the beast roared again, a sickening sound that echoed through the air.
Luna's eyes narrowed.
She stepped forward, her voice icy and commanding. "What are you doing here, Yaya? Is that your name?" she asked, her tone so cold it made the wind itself seem to freeze.
"Go back to your own cruel world."
The beast, clearly annoyed, turned its massive head slightly to look at her. Its eyes glowed with fury, but Luna's aura was unshakable.
She knew she wasn't the strongest—her powers were only a flicker compared to the chaos around her—but her confidence made her seem like she was wielding the power of the Shadow King himself.
The beast roared again, baring its teeth and lifting a claw to crush her. But Luna, with a cunning smile, activated her shadow powers.
Shadows swirled around her like a living storm, tendrils reaching out with a life of their own.
"Take your displaced head.… and tell your brothers to leave this place," she whispered, her voice echoing with a hypnotic quality.
Her eyes glowed with an unnatural darkness, and her shadows responded with a roar of their own—wind howling, debris swirling, as if the very air was obeying her command.
One of the beast's brothers, a hulking demon with horns and claws, hesitated.
Luna's shadow tendrils suddenly shot out, attempting to crush or break him—shadows grabbing him like a vice, trying to squeeze the very breath from his body.
The wind went out of control, whipping wildly as her powers surged.
"Gently," Luna hissed, her voice like a razor.
"Or I'll have to scratch your disgusting brain right through your nose." Her shadows twined and twisted, threatening to ensnare everything in their reach.
The demon shivered, trembling like a leaf in a storm. He quickly nodded, stepping back and commanding his brothers to retreat.
The ground trembled violently as they dispersed, shadows retreating as quickly as they had appeared.
Luna's eyes flickered back to normal, her expression cold but composed.
Tsuramo, who had been watching from the sidelines, blinked in shock. His eyes widened as he saw the chaos unfold—then he looked at Luna, whose shadow powers had almost caused a mini tornado.
" She's cooler then me, I thought I was this cool not a bit." he muttered, stepping back slightly, trying not to get caught in the shadows' wrath.
Luna turned away nonchalantly, brushing her hair aside as she walked off.
Tsuramo and another student, who had been watching with wide eyes, followed her, still stunned.
"Where are the beasts?" the glowing student asked, voice eager.
Luna shrugged, her tone casual. "Took care of them," she said, walking away as if it was just another Tuesday.
Tsuramo couldn't help but think, Damn, she's cool.
Meanwhile, the shadows behind Luna started to ripple again as her power simmered down—just a little.
She looked back, a faint smirk on her icy face, ready for the next chaos to unfold.
The SS-ranked student that came with his companions blinked slowly, turning to Tsuramo with a cool, calculating gaze.
His swords hung behind him, shimmering faintly as his hand glowed with a faint, ominous light.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice calm but edged with authority.
Tsuramo, trying to sound confident but clearly caught off guard, shrugged and shot back.
"Well, you so-called SS ranks—who apparently can't get here on time and are way too prideful—should probably fix our school first, and… uh, that guy over there." He pointed at the boy who was crushed, blood still oozing from his hand. "He's hurt. Heal him."
The SS-ranked guy blinked, a little taken aback, then nodded silently. Without another word, he motioned for some students nearby to help.
"Take him away," he ordered, his glowing hand flickering as he dismissed the scene with a calm, commanding presence.
Tsuramo watched the scene unfold, raising an eyebrow.
"Wow," he muttered. "Talk about a hero complex. That guy's more dramatic than a soap opera. Still, he's got some serious skills—I'd probably be scared to get on his bad side."
The students carried the injured boy away, leaving the scene behind as Tsuramo shook his head with a grin. "Yep, our school's in good hands with those guys around."