The corridors of the academy had never seemed so alive. Not with life, but with hidden movement. Every footstep, every whispered breath, felt amplified. I could sense it—the weight of unseen eyes, calculating, waiting for the first opportunity to strike.
Renvor was walking beside me, though he had been unusually quiet since the trial. His usual chatter was gone, replaced by a taut, alert silence that matched the tension of the hall.
"Something's off," he finally muttered, eyes scanning every shadow. "Too many people are moving… quietly."
"I know," I replied. "The factions are already hunting me. They won't wait for another trial."
He groaned. "Fantastic. So the 'school year' is basically an assassination tournament?"
I didn't answer. There was no time.
The first sign came when a soft whisper of mana slid across the walls—a silent prelude to violence. From a side corridor, a figure emerged, cloaked, hooded, moving with predatory precision. No one else noticed. Not yet.
Selene stepped out from a side passage, her eyes sharp. "You feel that?" she asked.
I nodded. "Assassin. Close."
She smirked faintly. "Good. Then let's not disappoint them."
The figure moved faster than thought, dagger of condensed mana gleaming. I barely had time to react. I twisted to the side, letting the first strike glance off my shoulder. Sparks and a flash of energy lit the hallway.
Renvor shouted from behind. "MC—move!"
I did. Rolling into a corridor, I summoned a thin thread of mana that wrapped around a nearby column. Using it as leverage, I launched myself upward, barely avoiding a second strike aimed at my chest.
The assassin landed lightly behind me, dagger ready. Their movements were silent, lethal. Every strike was calculated, precise, meant to kill without warning.
Selene intercepted, stepping between us in a flash. Crimson mana spiraled around her fists as she blocked a diagonal strike. "Don't just stand there!" she hissed.
I clenched my fists. My aura flickered, concentrated, almost invisible, ready to react. The assassin's movements were precise—but predictable. Almost.
I drew a shallow breath. Observe, adapt, survive.
The corridor felt smaller as the fight escalated. Sparks flew, debris scattered, and the walls themselves seemed to hum from the concentrated mana. Every step the assassin took was measured; every flick of the wrist, a potential kill.
I ducked another strike, rolling past Selene. My hands moved instinctively, weaving a barrier of thin mana threads that redirected the next strike harmlessly into the stone floor. The assassin growled, surprised.
"You're slow," Selene called, her grin sharp. "Focus!"
I nodded. It was time to show just enough. I couldn't reveal my full strength—not yet. Not in a corridor with so many potential witnesses.
The assassin lunged, dagger aimed for my side. I twisted mid-air, landing lightly on the floor. My thin veil of mana flared outward, forcing them to stagger back. Selene moved in sync, striking with a combination of precise punches and controlled energy bursts that forced the assassin to retreat slightly.
"Good," she said, eyes narrowing. "You're not entirely useless."
Renvor muttered from the side, "I'd hate to see what useless looks like…"
The assassin's cloak began to glow faintly as they prepared a larger strike. I sensed it immediately—the kind of energy that could collapse the corridor if unleashed. My heart raced.
Now or never.
I focused. A tiny fraction of my hidden power leaked out. Just enough to stabilize the corridor and deflect the strike, not enough to reveal my full potential. The assassin reeled back, shocked, assessing me for the first time.
Selene's grin widened. "Finally, you're showing some backbone."
The assassin's eyes narrowed. "Interesting…" they whispered. Before I could react, they vanished into the shadows of the corridor, moving faster than sight could track.
I exhaled, barely keeping my aura in check. "They're not done," I muttered.
Selene nodded. "Of course not. They'll try again. And someone else might take a shot. That's how it works here."
Renvor groaned. "I hate this school."
I ignored him, scanning the hallway. The assassin had left no trace—but the tension remained. Every corner could hide a threat. Every shadow could conceal death.
"You need to move," Selene said, her crimson eyes scanning the empty corridor. "They know where you are now. And they're not patient."
I nodded. "Agreed."
We moved carefully, every step measured, every breath controlled. Renvor followed, fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. The hall stretched endlessly, lined with doors and alcoves that might conceal threats at any moment.
Then I felt it—a subtle vibration in the air. Almost imperceptible. A whisper of mana moving toward me.
Before I could react, another figure emerged from the shadows—this one taller, broader, cloaked in black with two glowing daggers. They moved with lethal speed, aiming directly for me.
Selene's eyes narrowed. "This one's faster. Be ready."
I braced myself. My aura flared, invisible but tense, like a spring coiling for release. The first strike came, aimed for my head. I rolled, barely avoiding it, twisting my body mid-air. The corridor echoed with the sound of energy clashing against energy.
I could feel the assassin's intent, their precision, their lethal focus. But now, I was ready. I let my aura extend slightly, just enough to feel their movements before they happened. My hands moved instinctively, weaving a thin web of mana that deflected the next strike.
Selene intercepted, striking the assassin's side with a controlled burst of crimson energy. The attack forced them back, creating a small gap.
I seized the moment. With a calculated release of compressed mana, I projected a controlled shockwave that slammed the assassin into the wall. They slid across the floor, daggers clattering.
They weren't dead—Selene wouldn't allow it—but they were incapacitated. For now.
Renvor let out a long breath. "That… was insane."
I exhaled, lowering my hands. "It's not over."
Selene smiled faintly. "No. It's only just begun. And now, everyone else knows you're not someone to be underestimated."
The hall was quiet again, but the tension lingered. Every shadow seemed alive, every corner a potential threat.
I realized then: surviving wasn't enough. I had to be unpredictable. I had to be fast, precise, and ruthless—without ever revealing the true extent of my power.
And the factions watching from the shadows? They would be waiting for the next mistake.
I clenched my fists. The fight was over for now, but the war had just begun.