The moment Evan said the words, the room answered.
Metal clicked from every direction.
Daggers shot out of the walls, the ceiling, the floor—hidden mechanisms activating all at once. Blades crossed the air in lethal arcs, piercing armor, flesh, bone.
Screams filled the hall.
People fell where they stood. Some tried to raise their weapons. Others never got the chance. Daggers punched through throats, chests, legs—too fast to dodge, too precise to survive.
Evan moved forward.
Mana fire tore into him from every side. His body broke under the impact—bones shattered, flesh burned open—
And then healed.
Again.
And again.
Daggers struck him too, burying themselves deep. They were pushed out as his body closed around the damage, wounds sealing as if they had never existed.
He kept walking.
The screaming increased.
With bodies hitting the floor one by one.
Zen reached the Healer Hall and skidded to a stop.
The gate was sealed.
Locked.
"Evan—" he muttered.
A scream echoed from the top floor.
Zen's chest tightened.
"…Too late."
He slammed his fist into the gate.
Nothing.
Again.
The metal dented slightly. Pain tore through his arm.
He hit it again.
Bone cracked.
Zen staggered back, staring at his hand—skin split, fingers bent wrong, bone visible.
He clenched his jaw and reached for the single healing potion at his belt.
"I wasn't supposed to use you yet," he said quietly.
He drank it.
Pain flared as his hand snapped back into place, flesh sealing just enough.
Zen struck the gate again.
It shattered open.
He ran.
Up the stairs.
Two at a time.
When he reached the top floor, he stopped.
Evan was sitting there.
On a pile of bodies.
Blood soaked the floor beneath him. He looked up slowly, calm, breathing steady.
Zen let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"…You really didn't need me," he said.
Evan gave a faint smile.
"Guess not."
The hall fell silent.
And the academy burned on.
Niel stood in the strategist hall with two others.
Both had passed the same entrance test as him. Both were thinking the same thing now.
They were out of time.
The main gate shook as something slammed into it from the outside. Stone cracked. Metal screamed. The attackers weren't trying to breach carefully anymore—they were forcing their way through.
"Barrier won't hold," one of them said.
"I know," Niel replied.
He wasn't looking at the gate.
He was looking at the floor.
At a faint marking most people never noticed.
Memory surfaced—unwanted, sudden.
How did you fill the hall with water?
That had been his first question to his master. Not about mana. Not about control.
Just curiosity.
I didn't, his master had said. I pressed the hidden switch with my cane. Everyone thinks it's magic. It's not.
Niel exhaled once.
"Move," he said.
He stepped forward and pressed his heel down exactly where the marking met the tile seam.
The floor shifted.
A low rumble rolled through the hall.
Then water surged in.
Not a trickle.
A flood.
Hidden channels opened along the walls, the ceiling, beneath the stone itself. Water poured out violently, filling the hall in seconds. The level climbed fast—ankles, knees, waist.
"What—" one of them started.
"Library," Niel said. "Now."
They ran.
The water chased them down the corridor as they reached the library room and slammed the door shut behind them. Niel sealed it manually, locking the internal bars.
The room filled with sound.
Rushing water.
Straining stone.
Metal tearing.
Outside, the attackers finally broke the gate.
The door didn't give slowly.
It failed.
The pressure difference hit instantly.
A wall of water exploded outward, blasting through the broken entrance. Attackers were lifted off their feet and thrown back down the hall, weapons ripped from their hands as bodies slammed into stone.
Silence followed.
Niel didn't relax.
"Shelves," he said.
They dragged the heaviest book racks they could find and slammed them against the library door, stacking weight and resistance.
Then they waited.
Water continued to rise outside.
Niel leaned against the shelf, breathing steady.
"Reinforcements will come," he said. "They always do."
And if they didn't—
then at least the hall behind them
wouldn't belong to the enemy.
Aren didn't stop moving.
The body hadn't finished hitting the stone when he was already past it, boots striking hard as he turned down the inner corridor toward the Strategist Hall.
Alarms wailed somewhere deeper in the academy. Mana fire flashed briefly through distant halls. Aren ignored it all.
His focus narrowed.
Two attackers stepped into his path.
Iron Fist surged.
Aren drove his punch into the man's side and kept moving. The body slammed into the wall and dropped, ribs crushed inward. The second barely reacted before Aren caught him by the collar and threw him forward.
The impact snapped his neck.
Aren didn't slow.
He reached the Strategist Hall entrance and slipped inside.
They were already in the room.
Four of them—spreading out, voices low, weapons raised as they searched for the sealed library door.
Aren entered fully.
Iron Fist flared.
The nearest attacker turned just in time to take a fist to the chest. Armor collapsed. The body folded backward and hit the floor hard. Another tried to fire.
Aren crossed the distance in a step and smashed him into a desk. Wood shattered. Bone followed.
The third lunged.
Aren caught his arm and twisted. The scream ended when Aren drove him into the floor and let go.
The last one tried to run.
Iron Fist ended that thought.
Silence reclaimed the hall.
Inside the library room, Niel heard it.
Not the fight.
The end of it.
The sudden absence of noise—the way chaos stopped all at once.
He exhaled slowly and unlocked the door.
It opened to a ruined hall and Aren standing among the bodies, Iron Fist already fading.
Niel looked at him, unimpressed.
"You're late."
Aren rolled his shoulder once.
"Traffic."
Niel pulled out the rune stone and pressed it.
The surface warmed as the connection formed.
"Status," he said. "Zen. Rex."
Zen answered first.
"Healer Hall's clear. Gate fought back. Evan didn't."
Evan's voice cut in immediately, relaxed.
"Hiii."
Niel paused. "…That's it?"
Zen sighed. "He's sitting on bodies, Niel."
"Comfortable ones," Evan added.
Before Niel could respond, another signal pushed in.
Rex.
"So," Rex said cheerfully, "I'm guessing you're all heading my way, but quick update—I don't think the car's going to be ready in time."
Niel closed his eyes for half a second.
Rex continued, undeterred.
"So we can either fight on foot like responsible adults, or we can all just die dramatically and save time."
There was a beat of silence.
Zen muttered, "He sounds way too calm."
Evan laughed softly. "I like option two. Less walking."
"No," Niel said flatly. "Regroup. Weapon Maker Hall. All of you."
Rex chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I'll make it work. Probably."
The rune stone dimmed.
Niel lowered it and looked at Aren.
"…We're really trusting our lives to him," Aren said.
Niel nodded once. "Unfortunately."
With a faint smile.
And somehow,
that made everything feel just a little more survivable.