KAIRO'S POV...
After the meeting, the hall slowly emptied. Students whispered about monsters and portals like it was gossip for lunch. I stretched my arms, yawning, but my head wouldn't stop spinning about what the principal said.
We gathered in the club room — me, Lauro, Serena, and the twins, Lio and Leo. Everyone looked serious for once. Even the usually loud twins were quiet.
"So," I started, leaning back on the chair, "about that unsealed portal thing…" I looked around. "What actually happened?"
Lauro rested his chin on his hand. "Someone broke into the Forbidden Room."
That caught my attention. "The what room?"
Serena crossed her arms. "The Forbidden Room. It's where the original seals of the dimensional portals are contained. It's restricted even to professors."
I blinked. "So it's that serious."
"Very," Lauro replied, his tone low. "That room hasn't been opened for centuries."
I frowned, tapping my fingers on the table. "If it's sealed, then only someone powerful could've broken in, right? That seal can't just… vanish."
Lio and Leo exchanged glances, silent. Serena looked at Lauro, and Lauro looked back at her. The air felt heavier.
"What?" I asked. "You guys know something?"
No one answered. Just a quiet, uneasy silence between them.
Lauro finally sighed. "We're not sure yet. But whoever opened that room… isn't an ordinary mage."
I leaned forward, half-joking but half-serious. "So what you're saying is, some mysterious all-powerful mage just decided to open a door that could doom us all? Great. Totally normal day."
Serena rolled her eyes. "This isn't funny, Kairo."
"Yeah, I know," I muttered. "It's just… weird. Why do I feel like this is only the beginning?"
No one answered that either. But the way everyone looked at each other told me enough — something big was coming.
The meeting finally ended, and my brain was fried. Forbidden rooms, portals, seals—yeah, that was enough mystery for one day. My stomach started grumbling like it had its own agenda, so I decided to grab something to eat.
The hallway was quiet, sunlight spilling through the tall windows. I was halfway to the food stalls when—
Bam!
I bumped into someone, and both of us nearly dropped our stuff.
"O–oh! I'm so sorry!" a soft voice said.
I blinked. In front of me was a girl with lavender hair tied loosely behind her shoulder and bright blue eyes that looked like they carried their own light. She looked flustered, cheeks tinted pink as she quickly tried to gather her fallen books.
"Uh—no, my fault," I said, crouching down to help. "Didn't see you there."
Our hands brushed when we reached for the same book, and she froze for a second. I didn't miss how she blushed harder.
She looked up at me shyly. "T-thank you…"
Her voice was soft, like she didn't talk to people often. I smiled a little, scratching the back of my neck. "No problem. You okay?"
She nodded quickly. "Y-yes! I just… wasn't looking where I was going."
I chuckled. "Same. I guess we're both guilty then."
For a moment, she smiled back, small but real—and honestly, she was cute. Way too cute. Even I couldn't deny that.
Before I could ask for her name, someone called her from down the hallway. She turned, gave a quick bow, and said, "I—I have to go! Sorry again!" Then she ran off, leaving me holding one of her books.
I looked at the book, then down the hall where she disappeared.
"Well…" I muttered. "Guess I have a reason to see her again."
I grinned to myself, pocketing the book before heading off to finally get some food.
The next morning, I couldn't stop thinking about that girl from yesterday—the one with the violet hair and those blue eyes. I was halfway through my breakfast when I realized I was still holding onto the book she dropped.
"Nice, Kairo," I muttered to myself. "Steal a girl's book and call it destiny."
I walked toward the courtyard where a few students were hanging around, showing the book to anyone who might know her. Most of them just shrugged until one of the girls from the class beside ours glanced over.
"Oh, that book belongs to Lyra Vionne, right?" she said casually.
"Lyra…" I repeated under my breath.
The name sounded soft, elegant—like music. It fit her perfectly. I could almost imagine her saying it herself with that gentle voice.
"Yeah," the girl continued. "She's in the advanced elemental division. Pretty smart, but kind of quiet. Not really the type who talks much."
I smiled a little. "Figures. She bumped into me and apologized like she committed a crime."
"Sounds like her."
When the girl left, I looked down at the book again. Lyra Vionne. Even her name felt like it carried some sort of calm mystery.
"Well, Lyra," I said quietly, flipping the book open. "Guess I owe you a visit."
I couldn't tell if I was more curious about the girl—or why just hearing her name made my chest feel weirdly warm.
I've been walking around the academy for almost half an hour now, holding that book like some kind of lost treasure. You'd think finding one girl with purple hair would be easy, but apparently, this place has more students than rats in a bakery.
I sighed and sat on the bench near the garden, flipping the book open. "Just one peek," I muttered. "It's not like I'm stealing secrets…"
The pages weren't what I expected. No stories, no scribbles—just strange words written in a language I couldn't understand. The handwriting wasn't neat either—it was frantic, like whoever wrote it was racing against time. Some lines glowed faintly when the sunlight hit them.
"What the hell is this…" I whispered. It looked like enchantments, but different—older.
Then suddenly, a soft voice broke the silence.
"Um… that's my book."
I froze, the kind of freeze that makes your soul leave your body for a second. I looked up—and there she was. Lyra Vionne, standing just a few steps away, holding her hands nervously together.
"Oh—uh, right." I closed the book instantly and stood up, trying to act casual. "I was just making sure it's not, you know, cursed or something."
Her lips curved slightly, almost like a smile. "Thank you. You didn't have to check for curses."
"Well, better safe than sorry," I said, handing the book back smoothly. "So, you like enchantments?"
She blinked in confusion for a moment, then shook her head. "Oh—no. That's just… notes. My magic isn't enchantment-based. It's fire."
"Fire, huh?" I smirked. "Common type, but dangerous if you've got attitude."
She looked at me, amused. "And what's yours?"
"Electricity," I said proudly. "Also common, but with a bit of charm."
Lyra laughed softly—it was brief but enough to catch me off guard. "You're funny."
"Well, I try," I said, grinning. "Maybe next time, don't leave mysterious books lying around. Someone might think you're summoning demons."
She rolled her eyes but smiled as she turned to leave, clutching the book closer to her chest.
And for a moment, as the wind brushed her hair aside, I saw the faintest shimmer of flame dance over her fingertips.
I didn't move for a while after she left—Lyra. The way the fire flickered around her hand was… mesmerizing. It wasn't wild or angry like most fire mages. Hers looked calm, almost alive, like it listened only to her.
"Whoa…" I whispered under my breath. "So this is what real control looks like."
Before I could take another step toward her, a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist—tight.
"Kairo."
That voice. Serious. Cold. Eryndor.
I turned to see him standing there, eyes sharp as ice. He didn't say a word, just pulled me away from where Lyra was standing.
"Hey, what the hell, Eryndor?" I snapped, trying to shake his grip off. "I was just talking—"
He didn't let go until we were far from the courtyard. Only then did he turn to face me, expression unreadable. "Do you even know who that was?"
I frowned. "Yeah. Lyra. Why?"
His jaw tightened. "Lyra Vionne isn't just any student, Kairo. She's the princess of the Ember Dominion."
I blinked. "...Princess?"
He nodded once. "And whoever dares to talk to her without permission will be punished. That's how her family works. Strict and… ruthless."
For a second, I didn't know what to say. The girl who smiled at me like any other student—royalty?
"That's insane," I muttered. "Punishing people just for talking to her? What kind of rule is that?"
Eryndor's voice softened, but his eyes stayed cold. "It's their way of protecting her. The Ember Dominion doesn't forgive easily."
I scoffed, looking away. "Still ruthless if you ask me."
When I glanced back at where Lyra stood moments ago, she was gone—like she vanished into thin air. Only the faint warmth in the air remained, as if her presence still lingered.
The sharp blare of the alarms ripped through the academy's halls—again. My stomach dropped. Not this soon.
Students flooded the corridors, panic rising like a wave. Eryndor and I were already sprinting toward the main hall when I caught sight of the younger ones—junior high students—stumbling, crying, trying to find their way out.
"The kids!" I shouted.
Without thinking, I broke away from Eryndor and dashed toward them. The ground rumbled violently beneath my feet, the floor splitting in thin jagged lines. From above, a chandelier swung wildly—then snapped loose.
"Move!" I yelled, diving forward. I grabbed the nearest kid and rolled us both to the side just as the chandelier crashed down where he'd been standing. Dust and smoke burst into the air.
The trembling grew worse. The walls shook, and cracks raced across the ceiling. Then—like before—glowing rifts began tearing open midair.
Portals. Again.
Dark mist spilled from them like smoke from a dying fire, and the sound… that sound of growls and screeches echoed from the other side.
"Seriously?" I gritted my teeth, frustration rising. "Didn't we just deal with this?!"
I hoisted two more kids by their arms and guided them toward the exit where a guard was waving. "Get them to the safe zone!" I barked before turning back to grab another small group.
The air smelled like burnt metal and ozone. Everything shook harder.
I could hear Eryndor shouting orders behind me, freezing chunks of debris before they hit the ground. But I didn't stop. Not until every single kid was past the double doors.
When the last one crossed to safety, I finally exhaled—heart pounding, knuckles bleeding.
The ground cracked again, louder this time. I looked up. More portals. Bigger.
This wasn't over. Not even close.
The tremor hadn't even stopped when a burst of red flame lit up the corridor.
A girl in a long coat dashed through the smoke, her purple hair catching the firelight—Lyra. Behind her, another figure moved fast, elegant and composed—Liora. Together, they were pulling the trapped kids out from under fallen beams, using fire and wind magic to clear the path.
"Lyra?" I blinked through the haze.
She turned, her eyes locking on mine for a brief second before she smiled—a calm, grateful smile despite the chaos. "Kairo! Thank you for saving them earlier," she said breathlessly.
For a moment, my brain froze. Her tone was soft, and her hair was glowing under the crimson sky. I felt heat creep up my neck. Now's not the time for that, idiot.
"Uh—yeah," I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck. "You're welcome."
But there was no time for anything else. The portals around us began to pulse violently, and creatures started crawling out—slimy, multi-eyed beasts with metallic shells and claws sharp enough to carve through the floor.
Lyra took a step back beside me, summoning flames into her palms. "They're coming through fast!" she warned.
"Then we'll burn them faster," I said, crackling electricity sparking across my hands.
Liora's wind magic whipped around us, pushing back the dust as Lyra launched a blazing fireball, and I followed up with a surge of lightning. The explosion lit up the hallway, shaking the walls again.
I gritted my teeth. "No more hiding. No more running."
If these monsters wanted chaos, then fine.
I'd give it to them.
Hours passed. The battlefield reeked of smoke, sweat, and mana. The sky had turned blood-red, cracked with lightning and fire from every direction. My arms ached, and my mana was thinning, but the portals just kept coming—one after another, vomiting out those monstrous creatures.
"Damn it—how many of these things are there?" I shouted, slashing through another beast with a spark of lightning that barely hit its mark.
Lio and Leo were panting beside me, Serena's flames were dimming, and even Eryndor's breathing was uneven. But none of us stopped. We couldn't.
Then the wind shifted. A heavy, cold presence washed over us.
My eyes followed the source—and there she was.
A woman stood high above on the academy's rooftop, her figure silhouetted by the burning sky. She wore a smooth black cat mask, its gold outlines glinting faintly. In her hand—a thick, ancient-looking book glowing with red inscriptions.
"That's her," I muttered. "The one making these damn portals."
Before anyone could speak, Eryndor raised his hand, summoning a glacier-sized spear of ice and launching it straight toward her. The spear whistled through the air—but before it could land, she simply raised her hand and tore open a swirling black portal.
The ice vanished into the rift.
Eryndor's eyes widened. "She redirected it…!"
The portal closed, leaving behind nothing but laughter echoing across the rooftop.
I looked closer—and then I saw it. The book. The symbols. The way her hand traced the air, enchanting the portals like a maestro conducting a deadly symphony.
"She's not just summoning them," I growled. "She's controlling them—manipulating the flow!"
Without realizing it, I felt anger boiling inside my chest. My fists sparked violently, blue lightning crackling around my arms.
"Why are you doing this!?" I yelled, voice raw. "Do you have any idea what you're causing? The school's destroyed! The kids—innocent people—are suffering because of your stupid portals!"
The woman tilted her head slightly, her mask hiding her face but not her mocking tone.
"Ah… emotions," she said softly. "You're far too young to understand, boy."
Then she snapped her fingers—another portal opened behind her, swirling like a black sun.
I gritted my teeth. "Try me."
She just laughed, her tone light, almost teasing. "You still don't get it, do you, boy? This world needs to remember what fear feels like."
That was it. My patience snapped.
I charged at her without thinking, my electricity bursting through the air—
But before I could reach her, she lifted her hand and the book she was holding began to glow. The pages flipped wildly as if something unseen was breathing through them.
Then… she started chanting.
"Veytahr na'esh kor lumina…
Kha'reth dosha vel'marion…
Eithra kel vosh—
Ahn'thel morven ri'shaal!"
The words didn't sound human. Each syllable felt like a knife against my mind, echoing deep inside my skull. The air itself twisted. My lightning flickered and died as a dark light began to spill from her hands.
"What the hell are you saying?!" I yelled, backing away.
She didn't answer. She just kept chanting louder and louder, the sound turning into a chorus—like there were hundreds of voices behind her repeating the same ancient spell.
"Ahn'thel morven ri'shaal…
Veytahr sol'them krav'ora!"
The sky cracked open.
A massive portal tore through the clouds like a wound in the world itself.
From it, something moved.
A shadow stepped forward—then another—and my breath froze when I saw what it was.
A titan. A giant creature made of obsidian stone and glowing crimson cracks that pulsed like veins. Every step it took shook the earth.
The woman closed her book and smiled behind the mask.
"Do you still think you can protect them, little spark?"
I clenched my fists, electricity surging back through my veins. "You have no idea what I can do."
But deep inside, I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince—
Her...
Or myself.
The air was heavy with ash and mana. The titan's roar still echoed across the academy grounds, shaking every stone, every nerve in my body. I was ready to attack again—ready to fry that masked witch into ashes—
But before I could even take a step, she lifted her hand.
A crimson light gathered in her palm, swirling like fire trapped inside glass.
She smirked. "Let's see how long you can dance before you burn."
But before she could release it, the temperature around us suddenly dropped. My breath turned into mist.
Crack—!
Her arm froze midair, a thick layer of ice climbing from her fingers to her shoulder in seconds. Another flash—her legs froze too, locking her to the rooftop.
Eryndor stood behind her, his hand raised, blue mist spiraling from his palm. His eyes were sharper than ever. "You talk too much," he said coldly.
For a second, I thought it was over—
Until she started laughing.
That sound—taunting, sharp, unbothered—cut through the cold. The flames around her hand ignited again, melting the ice like it was nothing. Steam hissed from her skin as her fire burned even brighter, turning white at the edges.
"Clever little prince," she said mockingly, her tone sweet as poison. "But ice melts before true fire."
Flames spiraled around her, forming wings that shimmered with heat. I shielded my face, feeling the temperature spike.
Eryndor narrowed his eyes, his calm breaking for just a moment. "Fire magic…" he muttered.
I blinked, confused. "Wait—you're telling me she can use fire too?!"
She chuckled, holding out her hand, her voice low and mocking. "Oh, not just any fire, boy. I wield the Infernal Pyraxis. You should be honored to burn in it."
Then she snapped her fingers.
The air exploded in flames.
I barely rolled aside, my heart pounding, ears ringing from the blast. Eryndor stood beside me, frost crawling from his boots as he countered the fire with ice, the two elements clashing in violent bursts of steam and lightning-like heat.
"Guess she's not just some random witch…" I muttered, smirking despite the danger.
Eryndor didn't look away from the battle. "No," he said quietly. "She's something far worse."
The ground was shaking from Eryndor's ice and her flames colliding again and again. It was chaos—fire and frost eating each other alive.
I was panting, sweat dripping down my temple, when suddenly—
"Tch… you're too reckless, boy."
The voice slithered into my head, deep and smoky. I froze. My eyes darted around, but no one was close enough to whisper.
"Don't look for me. Only you can hear this, fool."
My stomach dropped. "Wait… you're—"
"The Twin Soul of your Ember Seal," the voice said calmly, yet there was fire in every word. "Listen carefully. If you wish to defeat that woman, you must use the flow beneath the ember, not the spark. Focus on—"
"Yeah, no thanks." I interrupted, brushing soot off my sleeve. "I'll handle her my own way."
There was a long pause. Then the voice grew sharper. "Do you think this is a game? She wields ancient fire—one touch, and you'll turn to ash."
"I've been through worse," I said, forcing a smirk even as my hands trembled. "Besides, it's kinda rude for a voice in my head to tell me what to do."
"I'm warning you, child," he said, his tone darkening."If you disobey me, I'll take control myself. You'll watch from the inside as I end this for you."
I rolled my eyes, even though I could feel his heat rising under my skin. "Oh, scary. What's next, you'll ground me too?"
Silence.
For a moment, I thought he was gone—then his voice softened, hesitant. "If… I lend you my power, your body might not endure it. You're not ready."
That actually made me stop. "Then why offer advice if you're just gonna hesitate?"
"Because," he said quietly, "you remind me of the fool who carried this flame before you."
I frowned, the words echoing strangely in my chest. "You mean… my father?"
But before he could answer, the ground split again—Eryndor shouting my name, flames rising higher, the masked woman laughing above it all.
And just like that, the voice faded.
Leaving me there, shaking, the heat of something wild burning under my skin.
I was getting tired—no, beyond tired. The woman in the cat mask kept leaping from place to place like a flaming flea, her fireballs lighting up the sky. Every time I tried to hit her, she was already somewhere else, laughing.
"Stay still for once!" I shouted, launching a bolt of lightning that hit nothing but smoke. My hands were shaking, my mana almost drained.
"Pathetic," Xei'thraem's voice growled inside me, heat pulsing through my chest. "You're wasting energy chasing her shadow."
"Then what do you want me to do? Sing her to death?" I snapped, panting.
"Step aside."
I blinked. "What?"
"Let me take the lead. I'll end this in seconds."
I hesitated. But when I saw Eryndor shouting my name from afar, Serena trying to fend off the small monsters, and Lauro protecting the others—something inside me just… cracked.
"Fine," I muttered. "Just don't burn me alive."
"No promises."
I closed my eyes.
And for a heartbeat, everything went silent.
The laughter of the woman echoed faintly in the background. "Giving up already, little boy?"
She raised her hand, flames spiraling around her arm, forming a massive orb of fire—so bright it painted the whole sky red.
Then she hurled it straight at me.
I heard someone scream—maybe Serena, maybe Eryndor—before the world exploded into light.
The ground shook. Smoke billowed in every direction. Everyone screamed for evacuation, professors casting barriers too late.
I could hear Lauro's voice faintly: "No… Kairo!"
And Eryndor's voice, colder than ice, cutting through the chaos. "...He's gone."
The woman's laughter was loud, echoing across the academy ruins. "Pathetic! Just like his father—"
But then the air shifted.
The smoke didn't rise—it was being pulled back.
The ground cracked beneath her feet. A wave of black flames rippled through the dirt.
And from the heart of that smoke, a voice—not mine—rose.
Deep. Calm. Furious.
"I told you… not to touch him."
The smoke slowly cleared. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the spot where Kairo had stood moments ago.
And then—out of the burning haze—someone stepped out.
Barefoot. Calm. Untouched.
His right hand was raised, and in his palm blazed the remnants of the massive fireball that was supposed to obliterate him. But instead of burning him—it flickered out, like a dying candle.
The woman froze. "Impossible…"
The figure—Kairo, yet not Kairo—slowly looked up. His eyes were no longer their usual dark gray. They burned bright crimson, like molten lava trapped in human form. His expression was cold, detached… divine and terrifying all at once.
The sudden burst of mana pressure spread through the academy grounds. Everyone felt it—professors gasping, the air itself trembling.
Eryndor's eyes widened. "...That's not Kairo."
The remnants of Kairo's shirt were shredded by the earlier impact, exposing the defined muscles beneath—the mark of the Ember Seal glowing faintly across his chest like living flame veins.
Serena's jaw dropped slightly, her face flushed crimson. "K-Kairo?" she whispered under her breath. "What… happened to you?"
But the being before them didn't respond.
Instead, Xei'thraem—inside Kairo's body—flexed his hand, testing it, as if the flesh itself was new to him.
He tilted his head toward the masked woman. "You dare throw fire at me?" His tone was calm, but beneath it was a rumbling fury. "You wield my element like a toy."
The woman stepped back, fear creeping into her laughter. "Y-you're not him, are you?"
Xei'thraem smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "No," he said. "But you should be grateful. I'm the reason he's still alive."
Then, the air shimmered with red light. Every flicker of fire around them began bending toward him—like every flame in the world recognized its true master.
The temperature dropped… and yet it felt like the whole place was burning.
Eryndor clenched his fists. "That aura—it's ancient."
Serena whispered, trembling slightly, "It's… beautiful and terrifying."
And at the center of it all, Kairo's crimson eyes glowed brighter.
Xei'thraem raised his hand again—calm, collected, and wrathful.
"Let's see how your flames handle mine."
The woman smirked beneath her cat mask, fire swirling around her hands like dancing serpents.
"So… you caught my spell. Impressive," she said, her voice echoing with power. "But do not forget who stands before you. I am the Queen of Flames—ruler of infernos, born from the core of fire itself. No one surpasses me."
The ground cracked beneath her as streams of molten fire erupted, circling her like blazing petals. Her aura flared, reaching high above the rooftops—hot enough to melt steel and scorch the air.
But Xei'thraem only stood there.
Still. Calm. Smiling.
Then he laughed—low and sharp, a mocking echo that made even the flames flicker in hesitation.
"Queen of Flames?" he repeated, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "You?"
He raised his hand, a small ember forming at his fingertip—silent, unassuming. But the moment it appeared, every flame she conjured dimmed, bending toward him like servants bowing before their true sovereign.
"You wield fire," Xei'thraem said, stepping closer. "But you do not understand it. You force it to obey, while I…" His hand burst into blazing crimson energy, the air trembling from the pressure. "…I am the fire."
The woman gritted her teeth, her pride cracking beneath the weight of his words. "Y-you're lying. No human can command fire like that!"
"I am not human," Xei'thraem replied simply.
His smile turned razor-sharp. "And if you truly believe yourself a queen, then you need far more training before you dare speak that title in my presence."
The woman growled, her flames flaring brighter, desperate to reclaim dominance—but no matter how much power she summoned, the fire around her obeyed him.
It bent.
It swirled.
It knelt.
Xei'thraem tilted his head. "Now, little pretender," he whispered. "Shall I teach you what true flame looks like?"
The ground ignited beneath his feet—crimson and gold fire spiraling like a sunburst ready to consume everything in its path.
Flames clashed across the academy courtyard like dueling stars, lighting the night in violent shades of gold and crimson. The woman let out a fierce cry, her hands engulfed in blinding fire as she hurled waves of molten destruction toward Xei'thraem.
"Burn beneath the queen's wrath!" she shouted, her voice echoing like thunder.
The flames roared forward—spiraling pillars of heat so intense that the ground melted and the air shimmered. Every student who dared to peek from the distance covered their faces, unable to withstand the brilliance of it.
But Xei'thraem didn't even flinch.
He stood calmly in the midst of the inferno, his red eyes reflecting the storm like still glass.
When the wave of flame was about to consume him, he merely lifted his hand—slow, deliberate, almost bored.
The air around his palm began to twist.
A darkness deeper than night appeared, swirling like ink in water—a void, silent yet powerful.
The woman's fire collided with it… and vanished.
No explosion.
No sound.
Just nothingness.
The void devoured every ounce of the spell, erasing its heat, its power—its very existence. Within seconds, only silence remained.
The woman froze, her eyes widening behind the mask. "W–what… what did you do?!"
Xei'thraem tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint, amused smirk. "You call that power?" he said coolly, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. "Even your strongest flame couldn't light a candle next to mine."
He rolled his eyes, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Honestly, if you're going to call yourself a queen, at least try not to embarrass your own fire."
The woman gritted her teeth in rage, flames flaring wildly again—but now, there was hesitation in her movements. For the first time, her fire trembled.
Xei'thraem took a step forward, the void fading behind him as crimson energy pulsed from his body. "Now," he said softly, his voice carrying an eerie calm, "shall we continue… or are you already burning out?"
Xei'thraem's patience was wearing thin. The fight had dragged on long enough, and boredom had begun to cloud his crimson eyes.
With a faint sigh, he raised his arm — flames instantly burst from the ground, encircling the entire area until the battlefield turned into a blazing inferno. Everything outside the circle melted into ash, leaving only him and the woman, locked in a duel of fire and fury.
The woman, masked and wild-eyed, lunged forward. Her movements were sharp — a perfect blend of magic and combat. She spun through the heat, her kicks and strikes charged with flame, each one leaving trails of embers in the air.
But Xei'thraem?
He dodged everything effortlessly, his expression blank, almost disappointed.
"Is this all the so-called queen of flames can do?" he mocked, his voice deep and echoing. "How dull."
He countered her next attack with one swift motion — his hand glowing crimson before he unleashed a torrent of fire so hot that the air cracked. The ground burned beneath their feet, the stone turning to molten lava.
Eryndor, from afar, clenched his fists. He wanted to step in, to do something — anything — but he knew he couldn't. This wasn't Kairo anymore. This was Xei'thraem, and the power he was wielding was beyond reason.
The woman screamed, her cloak aflame, her eyes wide with defiance. "You think you've won?!"
Xei'thraem smirked, his hair lifting from the heat around him. "I don't think, darling—" he raised his palm, a blazing circle forming behind him like a second sun. "—I know."
She tried to retaliate, summoning one last surge of her power — but she moved wrong.
A single mistake.
Her stance faltered.
And that was all Xei'thraem needed.
With a swift, devastating burst, his flames engulfed her completely — a storm of fire that tore through the battlefield, shaking the academy's foundations. Everyone watching shielded their eyes, blinded by the explosion of light.
When the fire cleared, the woman was barely standing, her mask cracked, her cloak burning. Xei'thraem walked toward her slowly, ready to end it with one final blow.
But before his hand could strike—
A portal tore open beneath her feet.
Her laughter echoed, weak but triumphant. "You can't kill what's already bound to the flame…"
And just like that, she vanished—swallowed by her own magic.
The flames around the arena flickered and died, leaving Xei'thraem standing amidst the ashes, his eyes still glowing red. He exhaled, almost disappointed.
"Tch. Pathetic," he muttered, before looking toward Eryndor's direction, his gaze unreadable.
Xei'thraem's vision is starting to blur and just remembered this isn't his body that's why it's too weak and couldn't handle this much that's when all his vision went dark and collapsed.
——
My body felt like it had been set on fire — again.
The moment I opened my eyes, all I could see were white walls, a ceiling fan spinning lazily, and a light that made my head throb. I groaned, trying to sit up, but the second I moved, pain shot through every part of me like a thousand needles.
"Ah— what the hell…" I hissed through my teeth, looking down.
Bandages. Everywhere. Arms, torso, even across my neck. I looked like a mummy who forgot to die properly.
I blinked a few times, trying to remember what happened — and then it all hit me. The fight. The flames. That woman.
And Xei'thraem.
That damn flamy cloak guy.
He completely took over my body, wasted all my mana like it was free food, and left me to deal with the aftermath. Typical.
"Next time," I muttered, groaning as I tried to stretch, "I'm charging rent for possession."
Every breath hurt, like my lungs were refusing to cooperate. My muscles were sore, and my arms felt heavy — like they weren't even mine. I slammed my head lightly against the pillow in frustration, staring at the ceiling.
"I swear, if I hear him whisper in my head again, I'm throwing myself into a portal."
I tried to move again — bad idea. The pain came back, worse this time, crawling up my spine. I ended up groaning louder than I meant to, enough that one of the nurses peeked through the curtain before quickly walking away, muttering something about "this troublemaker waking up."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want…" I mumbled. "At least I didn't die."
I rested my arm over my eyes, trying to block the light. The sound of my own heartbeat echoed in my ears.
Xei'thraem was right — my body wasn't built for that kind of power. Not yet. I could still feel traces of his mana burning inside me, faint but wild, like embers refusing to die.
I sighed deeply. "You better be proud of yourself, you walking fireplace…"
Then, silence. Just the faint hum of the ceiling fan and my own uneven breathing.
For a moment, I wondered — did anyone even see what happened at the end? Did they know it wasn't really me who fought her? Or would they think I'd gone berserk?
I didn't know. I didn't care.
All I wanted right now… was sleep.
Sleep and maybe a bucket of ice for my ribs.
I closed my eyes, letting out one last groan.
"Next time… I'm not letting him take over," I mumbled, even though deep down, I knew I probably would.
I was just starting to get comfortable — well, as comfortable as you can be while feeling like your bones have been rearranged — when the curtain suddenly flung open.
"Yo."
I squinted at the figure standing there. Purple eyes, messy hair, smug grin. One of the twins.
I blinked twice. "Uh… Leo?"
He raised an eyebrow. "It's Lio."
"Oh, right." I smirked weakly. "My bad. You two should wear name tags next time—"
Before I could finish, he smacked my shoulder.
"OW—! WHAT THE—LIO!" I yelped, grabbing my arm. "Do I look like I'm ready for physical abuse?! My body's literally half-dead!"
Lio froze mid-laugh. His eyes widened when he saw me actually wincing in pain. "Oh—wait, seriously? You okay?"
"No, genius," I groaned, glaring at him. "I told you, I wasted too much mana. Every time I breathe wrong, it feels like I'm getting stabbed by invisible knives."
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. "Oh… uh, my bad, dude."
I shot him a glare that probably looked less intimidating than I hoped. "Your bad? I think I just felt my soul leave my body for a second."
He laughed nervously, sitting down beside the bed. "Well, at least that means you're still alive. If you can complain this much, you're fine."
I rolled my eyes. "Wow, thanks for the medical diagnosis, Doctor Lio."
He snorted. "You're welcome, patient disaster."
I couldn't help but chuckle, even through the pain. The twins always had that weird energy — annoying, but the kind that made the room feel less heavy.
"By the way," he added, leaning back on the chair, "everyone's talking about how you went all monster-mode during the fight. They said your eyes turned red and everything. You sure you're still Kairo?"
I smirked faintly. "Pretty sure. Unless the new me comes with better abs."
Lio laughed so hard he almost fell off the chair. "Man, I missed you, you idiot."
"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, adjusting the blanket. "Next time you visit, bring food instead of pain."
He grinned. "No promises."
And just like that, the room didn't feel so heavy anymore.
The door creaked open again, and I groaned. "If that's Lio coming back to punch me again, I swear I'll throw the IV at him."
"I'm here, idiot, maybe Leo." Lio laughed besides me.
But when I looked up, it wasn't Lio this time.
It was her.
The air in the room changed instantly. Even Lio froze beside me. She stepped in gracefully — tall, elegant, with long, silky purple hair that shimmered under the light, lips painted in the kind of red that screamed danger, and eyes just as purple as her hair. Her uniform wasn't the same as ours — it was sharper, more regal, with a sword strapped casually at her side like it belonged there.
And yeah, she was gorgeous. Even my brain short-circuited for a second.
Lio immediately stood up and bowed like he'd just seen a goddess. "P-Principal Veyra!"
Wait—what?
"Principal?" I said, blinking. "What happened to the old guy? You know, the one who looked like a toad that learned magic?"
Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Retired," she said smoothly, her voice calm yet commanding. "I am Principal Veyra Althandra — the new head of this academy."
Even the way she said her name sounded like a spell.
I tilted my head. "So… you're saying the old man didn't survive paperwork?"
She chuckled softly — which was both terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time. "Something like that." Then she looked at Lio. "You may leave now, Mr. Virell."
Lio bowed again like his life depended on it and rushed out, leaving me alone with her.
Now it was just me… and the new principal who looked like she could kill a demon with a smirk.
She stepped closer, stopping right beside my bed. I could smell a faint scent of lavender and smoke. "I'll get straight to the point, Kairo," she said, her tone firm. "I was sent here because of you."
I blinked, half expecting this to be some kind of prank. "Me?"
"Yes." Her gaze was sharp, unreadable. "I saw what happened during the incident. You went… ballistic."
I scratched my cheek awkwardly. "Oh, you mean the part where I almost exploded? Yeah, I remember that."
She didn't laugh. Not even a twitch. "You possess something far beyond what this academy can handle."
I frowned. "What do you mean 'can't handle'? It's just a little void magic. And maybe… some fire. And lightning. And, uh—"
"Exactly." Her voice was calm but heavy with authority. "You are too powerful. Which is why, effective immediately…" She paused — her red lips parting slightly as she delivered the sentence.
"…you'll be transferred to another academy."
I froze. My thoughts scrambled. "Wait, what?"
Her eyes softened, but only slightly. "This is for your safety — and everyone else's. You've crossed a line of power that ordinary mages can't control."
I stared at her, feeling my stomach twist. "So that's it? Just because I went crazy one time, you're kicking me out?"
Veyra smiled faintly — a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Not 'kicking you out,' Kairo. I'm sending you where you belong."
And as she turned toward the door, her cloak swayed like rippling flame.
I leaned back against the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Great," I muttered. "First I nearly die, and now I'm getting upgraded."
"you'll be transferring tomorrow." Veyra said with a smile forming on her lips.
I stared blankly at Principal Veyra, still trying to process what she just said. "Transfer?" I repeated, just to make sure my brain wasn't malfunctioning from the bandages and painkillers.
She nodded gracefully, her long purple hair swaying as she turned back toward me. "Yes. You'll be sent to another academy."
"Alright, fine," I said, crossing my arms. "Then at least tell me what this new academy's called."
She smiled — that kind of smile that made you suspicious before she even opened her mouth. "Ah, yes… it's called—" she paused dramatically, "The Arcanum Obscurathis Valencrest Academy."
I blinked. "The what now?"
She repeated it slowly, like that would help. "Arcanum. Obscurathis. Valencrest. Academy."
"Yeah, no, still sounds like someone sneezed halfway through naming it," I muttered. "Who even comes up with these tongue twister names?!"
For the first time since she walked in, Principal Veyra actually laughed. Not a polite chuckle — an actual laugh, smooth and elegant, but you could tell she was genuinely amused. "You'll get used to it, Mr. Kairo," she said. "I'm sure the S-Rank mages there will make you forget how to pronounce it anyway."
I froze mid-eye roll. "Wait—S-Rank? As in top of the top? Overpowered, untouchable, legendary kind of mages?"
"Exactly," she replied, her purple eyes gleaming with pride. "Tomorrow, you'll meet them. Consider it… an evaluation."
"Evaluation?" I said nervously. "You mean like a quiz?"
She smirked. "Let's just say… they won't be using pens."
"Fantastic," I said, slumping back into bed. "I can't even pass a normal quiz, and now you're sending me to fight walking disasters."
Veyra turned toward the door again, clearly entertained by my suffering. "Rest well tonight, Kairo. Tomorrow, your real journey begins."
And just like that, she left — heels clicking elegantly against the floor, leaving behind the faint scent of lavender and dread.
I sighed, throwing my blanket over my face.
"Arcanum… Obscura—whatever. Great. Guess I'll die learning how to pronounce it."
TO BE CONTINUED