The night air in the western tower was heavy, weighed down by fear and the scent of something old and foul. Two second-year students, cornered and trembling, were confronted by a shadowed figure who moved with deliberate calm, almost like a puppeteer in control of the whole scene. One of the students, a boy, lay motionless on the floor, his face twisted in horror, his eyes already lifeless. The only sounds were the frantic breaths of his classmate—a girl, barely able to move, bound to the wall by a network of dark tendrils that pulsed and shifted as though alive.
“Please,” she gasped, her voice hoarse, filled with terror as she struggled against the ancient shadow binding that snaked around her wrists and ankles. "Please… why are you doing this?”
The figure tilted its head, watching her with unsettling calm. "Fear is a powerful teacher," it replied, voice low and eerily controlled. "It carves out weaknesses and tests resolve. Tell me, do you feel your courage now?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she writhed against the binding, her mind racing with desperation. “Let me go… you don’t have to do this! We’ll leave… we won’t tell anyone, I swear!”
The figure laughed softly, as if amused by her pleading. “Tell me, does courage come before fear? Or does fear shape courage into something meaningful?” It reached forward, and she flinched as cold fingers traced her face, leaving a chill that felt as if it sank deep into her bones. “You’re a pawn, a piece in a game far older than you understand.”
She bit her lip, trying to suppress her sobs. “Why us? We… we never did anything to you!”
The figure leaned closer, its eyes glinting beneath the hood. “Because you’re here, because you’re a part of something bigger than you know. A message must be sent. A reminder of who holds true power.”
The shadow bindings tightened around her wrists, cutting off her scream as pain shot through her limbs, making her whole body shake. Her head fell forward, her energy spent as tears slipped down her cheeks. She watched helplessly as the figure spread beads and straws in a precise, circular formation around them, etching lines in patterns that seemed to draw shadows even darker.
Then, the figure stepped back, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Your purpose is served." With a swift, final gesture, the tendrils around her tightened like a vice, cutting off her last breath as the room fell to silence once more.
Moments later, as the academy board members finally arrived, their faces twisted in shock and horror. There, displayed like an unholy offering, the bodies of the two students hung from the beams, bound and lifeless, with beads and straws arranged meticulously around them, forming a sinister pattern whose purpose none could discern.
Neil clenched his jaw as he examined the scene, his hands instinctively tightening into fists. This wasn't just an attack—it was a statement, something dark and twisted meant to incite fear. He turned to the guards standing nearby, his voice low and urgent. "Inform High Cleric Lumius and the King immediately. This matter concerns the safety of the entire academy.”
Beside him, Master Khan, usually calm, wore a rare, grave intensity, his eyes scanning the symbols on the ground with disturbing recognition. Doctor Patrick, the academy’s chief physician, arrived shortly after, his face pale as he took in the macabre display. The scattered beads and straws, marked with runes from forbidden rituals, only deepened the unease.
Neil’s gaze shifted to his colleagues. "We need a thorough search of the academy grounds," he said firmly. "Whoever did this could still be here, waiting for another chance to strike. But we can’t risk a panic yet. For now, impose a strict curfew and restrict movement around the tower. No one leaves their dorms after dark.”
Master Khan nodded, his voice steady. "I’ll assign some of my top students as additional security near the dorms. Discreetly.”
Doctor Patrick, his eyes haunted, added, "I’ll ensure the infirmary is prepared. But… we may need more than just medical supplies if this goes any further.”
As they strategized, the weight of the scene settled over them, each passing second feeling like a ticking clock against the unseen danger lurking in the academy’s walls. The dark symbols, the twisted ritual—this was more than murder. It was a message, a grim declaration that something ancient and malevolent had crept into their midst, and that this was only the beginning.
——
As the morning dew glistened on the pine needles and a silvery mist veiled the academy grounds, Hans Nimbersonn focused intently on his early water manipulation practice near the eastern grove. He was molding droplets of dew from nearby leaves, unaware of a shadowy figure lurking nearby, blade glinting in the low light, moving closer with deadly intent.
Just then, a cheerful voice cut through the stillness. “Good morning!” called Jun’de, his tone warm and untroubled, as if he hadn’t noticed the lurking threat. The shadowed figure melted back into the forest, disappearing as if it had never been there.
Hans turned, momentarily surprised to see Jun’de approaching. The older student, clad in attire reminiscent of Master Khan’s—simple, yet emanating an air of strength and discipline—grinned as he neared. “You’re getting better, first-year,” he commented, nodding at the water Hans held between his fingers.
Hans blinked in surprise, gathering himself as he stammered, “Jun’de! I didn’t expect to see you here.” His face flushed slightly as he quickly remembered his manners. “Oh, right—I, uh, haven’t introduced myself properly, have I? I’m Hans. Hans Nimbersonn.” He extended his hand, trying to keep his tone formal to make up for his earlier oversight.
Jun’de chuckled. “Good to meet you, Hans Nimbersonn. But please, just call me Jun.” He gave Hans a friendly pat on the shoulder, his face softening. “You’re doing well. Ellie’s been training you hard, I see.”
Hans blinked, surprise flashing across his face. He hadn’t expected Jun’de to know about his secret sessions with Ellie. “Wait—how do you know about that?” Hans asked, lowering his voice, a mix of curiosity and alarm in his tone.
Jun’de smirked, crossing his arms with an easy confidence. “I’ve been observing the two of you from time to time. You’re both surprisingly focused—never even noticed me around.” He shrugged as though it was the simplest thing in the world, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes.
Hans felt a mixture of admiration and unease. He glanced around to make sure no one else was within earshot, then turned back to Jun’de with a pleading look. “Can you keep this between us? I mean… Ellie and I agreed to keep it quiet.”
Jun’de raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, a small smile playing at his lips. “Not a word from me, promise. Your secret’s safe.”
Relieved, Hans let out a sigh and reached into his pocket, pulling out the handkerchief Jun’de had given him on the day of Jun’de and Ellie’s exhibition match . Holding it up, he said earnestly, “Thanks to you, too. Your encouragement helped me a lot, more than you might realize .”
Jun’de smirked, nudging it back to Hans. “Keep it. Return it only when you’ve beaten me in an exhibition match,” he teased with a playful wink. Then, his eyes brightened with an idea. “Hey, why don’t we grab some tea before classes?”
Hans agreed, feeling a renewed sense of warmth and camaraderie. He quickly packed up his belongings, and the two walked together toward the cafeteria. They chatted easily as they went, and Hans grew more curious about Jun’de’s background.
“So, Jun… if you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?” Hans asked as they approached the cafeteria.
Jun’de’s expression softened, a shadow passing over his face. “I grew up in Cloudspire Monastery. My parents were… taken by titans when I was very young. The monks took me in and raised me there,” he said quietly, glancing at Hans. “It’s where I learned discipline, strength, balance. Master Khan is from there too. We share the same roots.”
Hans nodded, understanding a bit more now why Jun’de carried that calm and steady aura. “That explains the similar clothing,” Hans remarked with a small smile.
They stepped into the cafeteria, and Jun’de led Hans over to the counter. “Alright, Hans, prepare yourself,” Jun’de whispered with a smirk. “Cloudspire matcha is a bit of a hidden gem here. Not everyone knows it’s available.”
The cafeteria lady, wiping down the counter, gave them a knowing look as she noticed Jun’de’s approach. “Back again for the special, Jun’de?” she asked with a small smile.
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Jun’de leaned in, voice low. “You know it. Two cups of the —‘Green Echo’.”
The lady raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “The usual code. You’re lucky; we just got a fresh batch.” She disappeared into the back, returning moments later with two small cups of the vibrant, jade-green tea.
Hans watched the exchange, eyebrows raised. “Green Echo, huh? You guys really make this feel like a secret mission.”
Jun’de laughed, handing Hans one of the cups. “It’s one of the monastery’s treasures. Only certain students know about it, and it’s best enjoyed with a fresh pineapple bun.”
Hans took a sip, eyes widening as the smooth, earthy flavor settled on his tongue. “This… this is incredible,” he murmured, savoring the tea.
Jun’de watched Hans’s reaction with a grin. “It’s good, right? Here’s to surviving our training,” he said, raising his cup with a playful glint in his eye. “And maybe even mastering a few more secrets along the way.”
Hans laughed, raising his cup in return. “To surviving—and learning as much as we can,” he agreed with a smile.
They clinked their cups, the camaraderie between them growing as they enjoyed their secret treat, savoring the warmth of the tea before heading off to face another challenging day at the academy.
——
The lecture hall buzzed with hushed, uneasy chatter as first-year students took their seats, casting wary glances at one another. The recent tragedies had everyone on edge, their voices kept to murmurs, as though even speaking about the murders too loudly might summon danger.
Hans sat with Marge, Ika, Martin, and Flo, all of them leaning in close as they exchanged anxious whispers, careful to keep their voices low—especially with Rem seated nearby. She hadn’t said a word since she arrived, her expression stony and withdrawn, a sign that the recent loss of her teammates weighed heavily on her mind.
“Did you hear… about the second-years?” Marge asked in a barely audible whisper, her eyes darting over to Rem, making sure she hadn’t caught on to their conversation.
Ika nodded, her face clouded with worry. “They found them arranged… like some sort of ritual,” she muttered, shivering. “And people are saying it might be linked to Leonardus and Stanley. Almost the same scene, just as horrifying.”
Hans looked between them, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what exactly happened?” he asked, his voice low but edged with concern.
“Quiet,” Martin cautioned, cutting him a look. “Not so loud. Rem’s right there.”
Flo took a glance at Rem too, her brows furrowing. “Yeah… we don’t want her to overhear. This isn’t something she should hear from us.”
Martin glanced around the room, ensuring their whispers stayed private, then nodded solemnly. “Yeah, Hans. They found the bodies of two second-years… staged, and everyone who saw it said it was chilling. It wasn’t just an attack; it looked like a sacrificial ritual.”
Hans swallowed hard, fighting off the chill creeping over him as he absorbed the gravity of Martin’s words. His mind raced. He'd been spending countless hours in secret training sessions with Ellie, pushing himself early in the morning and well past sundown, but he’d kept those late sessions quiet. His silence suddenly felt ominous; what if he’d unknowingly put himself in danger by wandering out alone?
“The university’s imposed a night curfew now,” Marge murmured, casting a cautious glance around. “Everyone has to be back in their rooms by nine. They suspect the culprit is still here, hiding among us.”
Hans' stomach dropped. “You mean... they think it’s a student?”
Marge shrugged uneasily, her eyes troubled. “Maybe. Or someone else on the grounds, but everyone’s being watched. They’re warning us to stay in groups and not to trust anyone wandering around after hours. If you’re caught outside after curfew, no matter who you are, they’ll question you.”
The news left Hans with a sinking feeling. As much as he needed those sessions with Ellie to keep up with the demanding academy standards, the secrecy of his late-night training suddenly felt dangerous.
Just then, the door creaked open, drawing their attention as Lorenzo stepped in, his usual quiet demeanor intact but his arm now wrapped in fresh bandages. A ripple of curiosity moved through the students, their eyes flicking from the bandages to his face, wondering what he’d been up to this time. But, true to his reserved nature, Lorenzo offered no explanation, merely scanning the room with a calm gaze before slipping into an empty seat.
Flo leaned over, her brows furrowed as she whispered to Marge, “What’s he gotten himself into now? He’s always so secretive.”
Marge nodded in agreement, sharing the same curiosity. She then turned to Ika, who was also on Lorenzo’s team. “Ika, do you know anything? Has he mentioned anything during your team training?”
Ika just shook her head, an exasperated sigh escaping her. “No, I don’t know much about him outside of missions and group training. He’s always so secretive. Even though we’re on the same team, he rarely shares anything personal. It’s like he’s hiding something.”
Marge raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious. “Maybe he’s dealing with something related to the attacks. Or maybe he’s just really private. Either way, it’s unsettling.”
Hans glanced at Rem, who sat a few seats away, her eyes fixed intently forward, a determined glint in her gaze. Her expression was hard, a quiet storm brewing beneath her stoic exterior. It was clear the recent murders weighed heavily on her mind; the victims had been part of her old team, killed in a similar, chilling fashion.
——
The heavy wooden door at the front of the lecture hall creaked open, and all conversation immediately ceased. Neil stepped in, his figure casting a long shadow across the room. His expression was graver than usual, and his commanding presence was felt by everyone. With a brief, appraising look around, he spoke.
“All right, everyone,” Neil announced. “I know the past few weeks have been tense, but we still have work to do. Today’s class is special. After this lecture, you’ll have the chance to form teams, earn points, and start working toward your merit.” He paused, his voice lowering slightly, his words carrying a deeper weight. “This is a step into the real world.”
The students exchanged glances, their faces shifting from curiosity to a focused determination. Neil raised his hand, and his ring—the Mirage Pearl—began to shimmer. With a subtle twist of his fingers, the entire room morphed around them, transforming from the familiar lecture hall into a desolate battlefield. The ground beneath them cracked and twisted, stretching into a chaotic, war-torn landscape as dust and shadow filled the air.
“Whoa…” Hans murmured under his breath, and a few other students nodded in awe. They’d heard tales of the Mirage Pearl’s power, but to experience it firsthand was something else entirely.
“It’s said he took on Crius alone with just that ring,” Flo whispered to Marge, eyes wide. “When it awakened, the primordial titan’s illusions couldn’t touch him.”
“He didn’t just fight Crius,” Marge added quietly. “He sealed him back on the frozen lake, right? Not even a scratch.”
“Now,” Neil’s voice broke through, pulling their attention back, “within this perimeter, you are all free to use your ring powers. But listen closely—what you face today will mirror the enemies you’ll encounter in the field.”
As his voice faded, titans began to materialize, their immense figures forming from the dust, each one more terrifying than the last. They varied in size and shape—towering beasts with thick arms and tusks, others with sharp, jagged armor or claws like scythes. They looked so real that some students instinctively took a step back, the thrill—and dread—of real combat washing over them.
“These are lesser titans,” Neil explained, crossing his arms as he watched their reactions. “Brutes with raw power but little else. They lack intellect and strategy, so they attack in swarms.” His gaze shifted, analyzing each student as they took in his words.
Without hesitation, the students leapt into action. Hans focused, conjuring streams of water that he directed with precise movements, knocking titans off balance. Flo summoned thick vines from the ground, which wrapped around a titan’s legs, holding it in place. Marge called forth a cloud of poisonous moths that swarmed around their foes, confusing and weakening them. Martin’s sonic blade sliced through the air, its hum cutting through the chaos, while Lorenzo’s shadow tendrils lashed out with speed and precision. Ika’s purifying flames burst into brilliant arcs, and Rem’s cosmic energy pulsed with a fierce, bright light. Working together, the students fought off the first horde of titans with a growing confidence.
Neil gave a satisfied nod. “Good. You’re all getting the hang of it.” He allowed the students a moment to catch their breath before lifting his hand to summon a second wave.
This time, larger, more intelligent titans emerged. Their eyes seemed to gleam with a calculated menace, and they moved in sync, reading the students’ movements before attacking with far more precision.
“These are greater titans,” Neil continued, his voice taking on a warning edge. “Unlike lesser titans, these have intelligence—and often strategy. Some can even speak. And let me make this clear: when you encounter one in the field, retreat is often the safest option. Many ring bearers have fallen to their power, even in groups.”
To drive the point home, Neil lifted his hand, the Mirage Pearl flickering with energy. The room darkened, and an illusion took shape—a group of ring bearers locked in fierce combat with greater titans. The titans moved with calculated precision, countering the ring bearers’ attacks with unnerving ease. Despite their efforts, both sides suffered losses. The students watched, wide-eyed, as they saw the titans crush their opponents with terrifying power.
Neil channeled his ring once more, transforming the scene into a vision of Chris himself. The young king appeared, his Thunder Crown blazing as he unleashed mighty bolts of thunder upon the lesser and greater titans alike. With each strike, the titans crumbled into dust, disintegrating into nothing but fading traces of energy. The students observed in awe as Neil explained, “When a lesser or greater titan dies, it disintegrates entirely, leaving behind only residual energy.”
For a brief moment, Neil’s gaze lingered on Martin, Lorenzo, Ika, and Rem. The four students shifted uncomfortably, each recalling a recent encounter with the boar titan, a mistake that they can’t avoid to make in the future.
As the image of King Chris faded, Neil fixed the students with a serious look. “However, if you’re ever forced to fight a greater titan, remember this: if you push your ring’s power to its maximum—and if fate is on your side and you bear one of the Emperor Rings, the legendary rings of immense power—victory is possible.” His voice grew softer, almost reverent. “With enough will and skill, they can be defeated.”
The room was silent as his words sank in, the weight of the future battles settling over the students.
Finally, Neil raised his hand, and the ground seemed to shake beneath them. The sky darkened as the Mirage Pearl conjured an even greater threat, one that dwarfed the previous illusions. Towering figures appeared, each radiating a force that sent shivers through the students.
“These are primordial titans,” Neil said gravely. “Titans of the highest rank. Only those with Emperor Rings can stand against them.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “Six of these remain sealed in Titan’s Keep, but even now, no one knows if those chains will hold. If one of these ever breaks free…” His voice trailed off, leaving the dire warning hanging in the air.
The illusions dissolved, leaving only silence behind. The students stood pale-faced, each grappling with the scale of the battles that awaited them. Neil gave a small, encouraging nod. “Remember, facing these challenges alone is a death wish. Rely on each other, trust in your teams, and you’ll have a chance.”
With that, he handed out their mission papers, marking the end of the lesson. As the bell rang, the students filed out quietly, carrying Neil’s words—and the haunting image of the titans—with them.
——
As Neil was about to leave, Rem rushed over, stopping him with a determined look. “Professor Neil,” she said, “about the recent incidents… I want to help. I can’t stand by while my friends—my teammates—are targeted.”
Neil’s gaze softened with understanding. He placed a hand on her shoulder, speaking quietly. “Focus on your studies and your missions. Leave the investigation to us. We’ll handle it.”
With a final nod, he turned and left, leaving Rem standing alone, watching the other students drift out of the lecture hall, a quiet fire of resolve burning in her eyes.