It might have lasted just a few moments. Perhaps as little as a second. Or it could have been an hour. Michael had no idea how much time had passed and perhaps it is better to say that it didn’t matter how much time had passed, because time wasn’t passing at a normal rate. And that could have been for a number of reasons. Perhaps the werewolf’s Skill worked on a fairness principle, giving it a forced shot at prey, regardless of defenses, but allowed more time for outside action. Perhaps it was all the magic and mana in the air, working collectively at bending the rules. Perhaps it was Gnosis itself, nudging things to come to the aid of those who called it home.

It could have been all these things. It probably was all of the above. Though the figure who had appeared in front of the massed students and teachers for only a second, before once again being forgotten, certainly helped things.

“|Time Crawl|!” First Shadow roared, clapping his hands together with a sound like thunder.

But he was only the first among many. Everyone who could, everyone who had any mana left, used a Spell. Those who didn’t used a Skill.

“|First to Action|!” Alex screamed.

“|Hunter’s Aim|.”

“|Doubled Spells|.”

“|Temporary Skill: Improved Casting|” Sinestra yelled, followed closely by Narh.

“|Efficient Mana Flow|.”

“|Quick Spells|”!

These and more. But those were only the Skills. Michael remembered himself being overtaken by the same battle fury as before. The same bloodlust, magic pouring and pounding in his veins. He ripped away his sword from its scabbard, one hand holding onto Erea, the other slashing madly.

“|Fire Slash|! He bellowed and with a silent roar the Spell flew.

But he was not the only one. The wolf had been running for how long? How long did he have until he reached Micah? Perhaps it was wrong to measure this in seconds. Moments might suffice.

A few moments left.

“|Area Spell: Mana-Rich Environment|” Nahlil commanded.

“|Water Jet|”

“|Summon Earth Hands|!” Melissa yelled.

“|Sand Arrow Swarm|!”

“|Water Jet|”!

And many, many more. But these were just the Spells. Those of them that had yet to learn long distance casting? Or who didn’t specialize in it? Or who simply couldn’t help themselves?

Bob ran ahead, an earth clad fist raised above his head, screaming incomprehensibly. Half of the Martials and many others running after him, all armed and armored in earth or stone or fire. They ran like a living wedge, with the Gaindel in the front. Only one other running ahead of him.

Ravena.

Just a couple of moments now.

“|Focus Spellward|, |Spell Weave|. Kelunad, incoming!” She screamed. “Aaargh!”

Her last word was not a Spell, but a scream. A throat ripping shout, yet it cast magic forward all the same. For the Naturalist leader had used herself as the crucible of all the magic cast until that point. She had gathered it. Concentrated it into a single source. And with will and magic that defied normal casting, she threw it all ahead, the magic flying towards the orc like a tidal wave.

Yet he was prepared.

“|Might from Might|!” he shouted and raised his sword towards the wave of magic.

Which became the sword. Melded with it. For a moment, it seemed like the combined might of magic and fury from all of Gnosis’s defenders was too much for even the head of the Martials. But the orc strained, grabbed his sword with both hands and with a mighty downwards swing, Kelunad screamed.

“|I Cut|!”

One moment.

Such a simple Skill. Yet, it had the backing of an entire army of Spells behind it. Blood spurted from the orc as he swung his sword down, but the cut moved forward, arching. It cut through space itself, though this dimension, and towards whatever place the werewolf’s Skill was using. Michael saw it impact with the Skill, struggle against it, yet with a determination that bordered conscious thought, the edge of magic cut through the Skill itself.

The Skill disappeared. The werewolf was once again running in the real world, its pursuers were hot on his heels. But they were too late. Because even if the Skill which separated the beast from the world had ended, it had lasted long enough. It had allowed him to bypass Regitris’ barrier, running past it as if it wasn’t there.

Micah looked on.

Now.

The werewolf reached with his claw, looking like a sprinter aiming to clear the finish. There was magic in that claw. It shone, bright and true. But he had forgotten one thing. His Skill might have lasted long enough to get him past Regitris’s barrier. But not past Regitris himself.

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The elf stepped sideways, directly in the path of the attack.

“|Sacrificial Spell: Crimson Aegis|”

The moment of impact blasted all of them back. A wave of pure light, of hardened light, blasted them, driving them backwards. Michael woke up to see Kelunad lying on the ground, beside the door. Everyone who had run ahead was there as well. The main hall looked blackened, red, burning streaks separating stone from embers. And on the other side of the room, there was only a single individual standing.

Micah.

The lycans were still kneeling. The elf was laying on the floor, trying to get up and failing. Blood was pouring from his mouth, nose and eyes. And the werewolf? Only half of it remained. Everything beneath his torso had vanished. Blasted away. Yet he still had a paw stretched towards Micah, who was looking at him with wide eyes, the werewolf’s blood having splattered all over him.

Amazingly enough, the beast was still breathing. He panted. And managed to speak a final time.

“My name… is Bahin.” He spoke.

And died.

Finally, after all of this, the last person standing gave out a shuddering breath and fainted.

***

Michael felt bad for Hector. The |Magical Healer| probably hadn’t had this much work in… well, not ever, since this was Gnosis, but for a few years. This medical wing of the castle was full. The other medical wings were full as well, and Michael found out they existed. |Healers|, |Poultice Masters|, |Carers| and |Medicine Mages| were running around everywhere. Not everyone had been badly hurt, only a few. But most everyone who had been there had suffered from something that needed attention. Even a number of those that had managed to get out, since having panic attacks with an edge of magic was not something to laugh at.

“I still don’t get how everyone had attacked at the same time.” Micah said. “I mean, why not do that from the start?”

Michael and Bob were currently gathered around Micah’s bed. Alex had been there too, as well as a few other students. Micah was social enough to be popular even after this. But before now, the lycan had still been sleeping. He awoke to find his two friends standing watch.

“Because we would have died.” Bob said. “The werewolf was too strong at first.”

“That too.” Michael completed. “But Regitris said it was also Gnosis. Apparently, the academy can nudge things, one way or another. And given how worked up everyone was and the quantity of magic in the air, plus the leadership Skills being used… Regitris said the castle made us lose it. I didn’t hear anyone gainsay him. Besides, we all wanted to save you.”

“Right. It was madness, I’ll give you that. How is the old elf? I owe him my life.”

“He’s still recuperating. And he said you owe him nothing. He was just doing what he needed to. Though, personally, I think it was Ravena who ‘convinced’ him that nothing was owed.” Michael said, making the two laugh.

In truth, the elf had been somewhat hurt. Apparently, that Spell wasn’t something to use lightly. It drew from one’s own magic, consumed it as blood and used it as a catalyst. It ensured that an enemy’s attack would be countered by an equal force which drew upon the enemy’s own magic. Regitris told him that if he had executed the Spell perfectly, the blast would have never happened, as the two forces would have countered each other perfectly. Only the werewolf would have been evaporated. However, he shamefully mentioned that he had been quite tired by the end of it and had utilized the Spell less than perfectly. Which resulted in his injuries.

Not that he was the only one injured. Kelunad retreated on his own, though Alex told him that the orc had been badly bleeding. Ravena suffered from an excruciating mana burn and was tied to her bed for what everyone assumed would be days still. Erea had recovered from her own mana burn, but was still ordered to take it lightly. And the others… well, others were still filling up the medical wing, so that told a story all on its own.

“I do not understand how this could happen.” Bob confessed. “I understand it would bring you shame, Micah, but perhaps lycans should spend the Change Day in warded rooms. To prevent a repeat event.”

“It doesn’t.” his friend sighed. “I actually thought that’d be the case. Why risk it, you know? But Ravena told me that given how few lycans we had at Gnosis and how… modest our magical potential is, the chances of us turning into a werewolf were slim to none. Well. Guess she had that wrong, didn’t she?”

“Are they talking about changing the ceremony?” Michael asked.

“Maybe.” Micah shrugged. “They didn’t tell me about it. But yea, probably.”

“Don’t worry. Even if they do change how things work, we’ll still keep you company next year. We’ll stand by your cell for the night. Throw you peanuts. Maybe even give you treats.”

“Funny. I’d laugh, but you know, I’m saving it for your next joke.”

“Micah.” Bob said. “Might I ask… why was that werewolf that strong? For it to be a match for the three faction leaders, even if they were holding back… I find that disturbing.”

“Yeah. I mean, if that’s what a werewolf is like when it develops from a lycan with just a minor magical potential, what about the ones who appear in the Clans? What kind of monsters appear there?”

“Uhm. Hold on,” he said.

He pulled out his privacy artifact and used it.

“Right, so this is something Ravena told me in confidence. Which of course means I’ll share with my conspiracy members.” He grinned.

“Of course.”

“So, yes, they were holding back. But you have no idea how much they were holding back. Ravena said that out of the three, she’s the one who’s probably weakest in a straight up fight. But she also said that even she could take it out, if she didn’t have to hold back at all or if I and the other lycans couldn’t be used as hostages. It’s just that, apparently, most high-Level Spells can’t be used without… uhm-”

“Splash damage.”

“What?”

“I mean, collateral damage.” Michael explained.

“Well, yeah. Pretty much. So, the werewolf wasn’t that powerful. We’re all just really weak.”

What a cheery thought.

“As for the lycans in the Clans… I’m not sure. I only know what I heard and the elders aren’t exactly forthcoming, but apparently the magic users don’t usually turn into werewolves. That’s another reason they’re so well looked-after back home and why there’s tension between us. I guess… only traditional lycans have ‘good’ chances of turning. Those that are into hunting and outdoors. But honestly? I have no idea. They never told me much.”

“I imagine that if such a werewolf were to appear… armies could still be summoned.” Bob said.

“True.” Michael nodded. “Armies, mages, like the faction leaders, only in greater numbers… They’d still be a threat, but not an unmanageable one. Still, Gnosis is a contained world. I’d much prefer that didn’t happen again.”

“Mmhmm. Yeah.” Micah said, dejectedly.

“Oh, cheer up. You got like half the school running to save you. Besides, everyone saw you resist that monster. You’re… let’s say almost as popular as I am, right now.” Michael joked.

It was true, too. Resisting that werewolf made Micah into both the talking point of the entire academy, which seemed to have a general positive opinion of him, and the shining beacon of lycans. His friend smiled, but still didn’t deactivate his privacy artifact.

“There’s just one last thing bothering me.”

“What’s that?”

“Before he died. The werewolf told me his name.

“Yeah… I think I remember. Uhm…”

“Bahin. He said his name was Bahin.”

“Right. So, it’s freaking you out that he told you his name?”

“No. But… I got to know that lycan, before he turned into a werewolf. Not very well, but I knew him. And his name wasn’t Bahin.”

Oh.