~Laurent The morning light broke through the cracks in the curtain, a pale stripe across my face. I groaned and rolled onto my side, blinking at the faint hum that always came before the shimmer. [Status Menu] It spread across my vision, neat and precise as ever. Name: Laurent Draven Level: 2 Strength: 29 Agility: 10 Endurance: 11 Perception: 6 Intelligence: 8 Skills: • Blood Instinct • Night Vision • Claw Manifestation • Fang Bite • Shadow Step • Blood Recovery Weapons: • Fang & Talon (Twin Daggers) I swiped the screen and a new icon blinked at the corner of my vision: [Inbox: 1 New Message] A familiar tension crawled up my spine as I tapped it open. [Daily Task Generated] Mission: Enter the Crimson Hollow and retrieve the Heart of the Abyss. Defeat the guardian, Gorath the Warden. Rewards: New weapon, +20 attribute points, possible rare skill unlock. Penalty: Loss of half current stats. Physical trauma. I stared at it for a moment.

~Laurent I didn’t move right away. Her words just hung there, echoing. Did she just say she wanted me to join the competition? “Who? Me?” I finally managed to say, blinking at Serene like she’d grown a second head. “Yes,” she said flatly, arms folded. “Why is that so shocking?” I stared. “Because I’m an E-rank? What could I possibly do?” “Absolutely nothing,” she replied, not missing a beat. “I don’t expect you to do anything. I just need you to add to our numbers. We need ten people to participate and everyone else is too cowardly to join.” I arched a brow. “What makes you think I’m not cowardly like them?” “Because you went to Verdant Forest voluntarily,” she said, like it was obvious. “Even though you knew what you were. You could’ve stayed behind where it was safe, but you didn’t. That tells me you’re either brave or stupid. Either works for me. And besides—” she smirked slightly, “—I’m not asking you to fight. Just to stand there and look useful.” “Wow,” I mutte

~Laurent What the hell was she thinking? Going up against a B rank and not just a B rank, Hadrin Voss. If not that I knew how capable she was and wanted to have faith, I would’ve joined the medics in preparing the stretchers and first aid for when she loses. I swallowed hard and leaned forward in my seat, elbows on my knees. “Please don’t die doing something dumb,” I muttered under my breath. The referee raised his arm. “Match two—begin!” ⸻ Ciela didn’t hesitate. Her eyes flared faint blue and the stones beneath her feet cracked, shards of rock lifting into the air. She flicked her wrist and sent them flying toward Hadrin. They cut through the air fast, sharp—like she’d thrown a hailstorm. Hadrin didn’t even flinch. His body shrank in on itself, muscles collapsing, bones folding inward. In a blink he was gone—no, not gone—small. A gray blur darted across the floor. A rat. The stones shattered uselessly against the far wall, spraying dust into the air. Ciela’s head snapp

~Laurent By the time the fourth match started, I realized I’d stopped actually watching. My eyes were fixed on the arena, but my thoughts were miles away — on Ciela being carried off, and on Sorin’s hand crackling with something that shouldn’t exist. I caught pieces of the fights like static between stations. The Necromancers versus the Titans — it should’ve been an even match. The Titans relied on brute strength and skin like steel; the Necromancers fought with strategy and summons. They didn’t actually fight, they just called on shadow creatures that took the hits for them and attacked in their stead. The crowd loved that one. Bones clattered across the arena, spectral soldiers rising from dust as the Titans charged through them. Every impact was thunder. I should’ve been awed, but the noise only made the whisper at the back of my mind louder. Ciela screaming. Kade’s body hitting the floor. That wrong hum lingering after both and that crazy pop up that detected an abnormality.

~Omniscient The echo of the crowd still lived faintly in Director Calen’s ears as he walked the corridor toward his office. The long glass panes reflected the torchlight in restless fragments — gold against black, like the school itself was never quite still. He moved slowly, hands clasped behind his back, gaze distant. The tournament had gone well enough, at least to anyone watching from the stands. The students had cheered, the teachers had smiled, the academy had completed the first day of the yearly ritual of strength and spectacle. And yet— Something he didn’t expect happened. He replayed one fight scenes in his head: the vampire’s sudden command of shadows. Had he been underestimating these people? The last year, the students’ showcased powers that he expected, there were no surprises but this year? It was different. He saw new things. Were the students of Elarion getting more powerful? He couldn’t have that happen. Not yet. It would mess with what he was planning. He re