~Laurent
My cheek hit the dirt with a wet smack, and before I could even groan, a boot dug into my ribs and rolled me over like I was a sack of potatoes. Laughter crackled above me, sharp and mocking. “Pathetic.” Another blow landed, this time to my shoulder. My arm went numb. I tried to push myself up, but a fist came down and flattened me back to the ground. I swung anyway—clumsy, desperate, stupid. My knuckles smacked against someone’s arm, and all I got for my bravery was a bark of laughter. “Is that your best? My grandmother hits harder than that!” Their shadows circled me like wolves, feet darting in and out. Every time I tried to crawl out of their orbit, another kick would shove me back in. My lip was split, my vision blurred. I managed to get onto my hands and knees, crawling, each inch forward feeling like a mile. Dirt stuck to my face, to the blood trickling from my nose. Then the laughter shifted. Uneasy. Confused. I blinked and turned my head. One of them—tall, broad, smug—wasn’t standing anymore. He was floating. “Wha—?!” His voice cracked. His feet kicked wildly, arms flailing like a child who suddenly realized swimming lessons were a scam. “Put me down! Put me down right now!” “I’m not doing anything.” I protested. The others stumbled back, wide-eyed. I followed their gaze. She stepped into view like she owned the place. Bright yellow hair spilling over her shoulders, warm brown eyes sharp with focus, slender frame wrapped in the Academy’s robes. Her hands were raised slightly, fingers curled like she was holding invisible strings. The guy dangling in mid-air screamed again. “I—I hate heights!” She tilted her head, unimpressed, then lowered her hands. He crashed into the ground with a heavy thud. Groaning, he scrambled up, but by then she was already at my side. “Can you stand?” she asked, offering me her hand. For a second, I just stared. My pride wanted to spit out some line like, I’ve got this, don’t worry about me. My bruised ribs disagreed violently. I took her hand. She pulled me up with surprising strength. My legs wobbled, pain ringing in every bone. One of the boys sneered. “Stay out of this. It’s between us and the freak.” The girl turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “I know all your names. Bullying is a crime punishable by suspension in this school. If you don’t walk away right now, I’ll report you. My father is part of the administrative staff. He will make sure you regret it.” That hit them harder than any spell could. They froze, exchanged glances, then stepped back. A growl here, a muttered curse there, but they retreated. I exhaled, every breath a stabbing reminder of how fragile I was. “Thank you,” I muttered, voice ragged. She gave me a small smile. “Don’t mention it.” I didn’t plan on mentioning it. Ever. The sooner I got away from her—and from the pity in her eyes—the better. I turned, limping, blood dripping down my chin. My notebook slipped from my bag without me noticing. “Wait!” she called. I froze as she jogged after me, notebook in hand. “You left this.” I took it quickly. “Thank you again.” Then I quickened my pace, desperate to put space between us. “Do they always do this to you?” she pressed, hurrying to keep up. “No. They just started today,” I said, avoiding her eyes. “You have to do something about it. They’ll keep coming if you don’t.” I gave a bitter laugh that hurt my ribs. “Listen, I’m just an E-rank. There’s nothing I can do. Even if I report them, they’ll come back worse. It’s better I just avoid them.” Her frown deepened, but I didn’t let her reply. I jogged off, as fast as my swollen legs would let me, and didn’t stop until I slammed my dorm door shut. That night, I patched myself up with cold water and scraps of cloth. The next day, I ate alone in the cafeteria. My tray rattled with bread, soup, and shame. I chewed quietly, ignoring the laughter from tables packed with friends. I saw a figure walking towards me in the distance. I looked up and saw her–the girl from yesterday. She sat down across from me like she belonged there. “How’s your face?” I nearly choked on my soup. “Getting better,” I said quickly, keeping my eyes down. She slid a flyer across the table. “There’s a sparring contest after school today. Come along, I believe you’d learn a thing or two watching people spar. Maybe even learn enough to be able to defend yourself from bullies long enough to run away.” I frowned. “No thanks. The last thing I want is to watch people get punched. I get enough firsthand experience.” She smirked and left the flyer anyway. “Think about it. I’m sure you won’t regret coming.” Then she walked off, just like that. I stared at the paper. My gut said no. My curiosity whispered maybe. After fifteen minutes of silent war with myself, I sighed and decided to go. Maybe watching people spar would give me a glimpse of how best to dodge punches. The place that was picked as the contest ground was hidden in one of the older training halls—stone cracked, torches flickering, air buzzing with anticipation. Students crowded the edges, chanting, betting, roaring with excitement. Teachers were no longer around so we had the whole school to ourselves. “There you are.” She appeared through the throng, grinning like she’d won a bet. “I knew you’d come.” I mumbled something unintelligible. The first fight began. A necromancer summoned shadows that twisted into a ghastly figure—its hands clawing, its voice whispering in tones that raised goosebumps. His opponent, a Titan, charged with earth-shaking force. Fists like boulders swung, cracking stone, but after minutes of fury, the Titan collapsed from exhaustion. Shadows swallowed him whole. The necromancer was declared the winner. The crowd went wild. Next, a Celestial fire mage hurled blazing torrents across the arena. His opponent, an Arcanist, dodged frantically,muttering incantations. Fire licked his robes, singed his hair. Then, at the perfect moment, he shouted a final word, freezing the Celestial in place with an immobilizing spell. One hit. Victory. The crowd cheered and clapped. I scribbled in my notebook, fascinated despite myself. Spells need time. Titans burn out fast. Note: never fight shadows. The third battle drew gasps: a Psychokinetic versus a Vampire. The air filled with flying debris—rocks, benches, even shards of glass—but the Vampire blurred through it all, her speed inhuman, her movements graceful. She reached the Psychokinetic, wrestled him down, and ended it with a single brutal strike. Psychokinetic were formidable from range but if you got close enough to them, you might just have an edge. That was the trick the vampire used. My jaw nearly hit the floor as I looked at her flexing her muscles, relishing her victory. I wished I could move like that—quick, untouchable, powerful. Instead, I sat bleeding ink into a notebook, barely able to limp. Before the next fight could start, a sharp voice cut through the chaos. “What is going on here?” We turned, no one speaking. A teacher stormed into the arena, robes billowing, face like thunder. Students scattered instantly, panic replacing excitement. “Run!” someone shouted. Ciela grabbed my hand without asking and bolted. My body screamed in protest, but her grip was firm. She dragged me through the stampede, her hair flashing like gold in the torchlight.
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11
~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.
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~Laurent “Laurent? What are you doing here?” The voice made my heart stop. I froze where I was, still half-kneeling in the grass, blood drying on my sleeve. I turned slowly, dreading who I’d see. Ciela stood a few paces away, sunlight curling through her yellow hair like gold wire. Her brown eyes widened as she took in the sight of me. “I—uh…” My brain scrambled. I couldn’t exactly tell her I’d just returned from fighting a crypt full of undead. “I dropped something. Must’ve rolled under the shrubs.” Her brows lifted. “You’re lying on the ground because of a lost pencil?” I forced a weak laugh. “Not a pencil. Something more important. You don’t have to worry about it. I’m sure I’ll find it. What are you doing out here though?” Something in her face softened. She hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Was looking for you. Thought you ran into trouble again.” “I’ll be more careful to avoid those from now on so you’ll be able to rest. You have other things to worry about othe
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~Laurent I opened my eyes and was greeted by the ray of sun that creeped in through the window. I got off my bed and stretched, yawning. As if waiting for me to get up, an inevitable shimmer burned across my vision. [Status Menu] • Strength: 29 • Agility: 10 • Endurance: 11 • Perception: 6 • Intelligence: 8 Current Level: 2 Skills available: Blood Instinct, Night Vision And then the part that I never looked forward to showed up: [Daily Task Generated] Raid the Ashen Crypt and slay the Master. Reward: New skills, extra points Penalty: Loss of current points, extreme pain I let out a shaky breath and rubbed my face with both hands. "I feel this thing is on a mission to kill me." I hadn't heard too much about the Ashen Crypt but from the little I'd learned. I knew it wasn't a place that people visited often especially not alone and it was my task for the day not to only visit there but also slay the master. How was I going to do that?! I dragged myself upright anywa
8
~Laurent Ciela sat alone, her hair spilling like starlight over her shoulder, her fork barely touching the food on her plate. Her gaze drifted, unfocused, as if she wasn’t really here at all. My legs carried me before I could think. I slid onto the bench across from her. Her fork froze midair. She looked up—and her eyes widened. Her mouth parted, a soft gasp breaking free. “…Laurent?” I gave a nervous smile. “Yeah… I’m back.” She set her fork down, staring at me like I was a ghost. “I—I thought you were still in the hospital. You… you shouldn’t even be walking yet.” I shrugged, though my chest still ached faintly. “But I am. No need to worry.” A flicker of relief crossed her face before she caught it and straightened. “How are you feeling?” “Better than I expected.” I flexed my fingers, as if to prove it. “And you? After… everything.” Her lips pressed tight. A shadow passed over her eyes. “…Trying. Nights are the hardest.” “Why did you come back to school? You could’ve take
7
~Laurent I woke with a gasp—air tearing into my lungs like I had been drowning for centuries. My eyes darted around. White walls. A ceiling fan that clicked faintly as it spun. Curtains drawn halfway across a window where sunlight streamed in too warm, too gentle, too alive. My trembling hands flew to my chest, then my arms, then my legs. My body was whole. No bones shattered, no blood dripping. My ribs—weren’t they broken? My skin—wasn’t it flayed? I flexed my fingers, watching them curl and uncurl in disbelief. “I… I’m alive?” My own whisper startled me. The door creaked open. Several men in crisp uniforms entered, their footsteps measured, their expressions tight but relieved. Administrative staff from the Academy. “Laurent,” one of them exhaled. “Thank goodness you’re awake.” I sat up weakly, voice rasping. “What happened? Where am I?” “You’re in a hospital.” He replied. “What about the monsters? Did you kill them? Do you know where they came from?” I asked. The man at t
6
~Laurent Everyone was frozen in fear for about a minute before we turned on our heels. Adrenaline pumped through our veins, fueling our speed. My feet pounded against the dirt, frantic and desperate. Behind me, I heard the sound of bones snapping, claws raking flesh, and the unending roar of the monster chasing us. The monster was catching those too slow to keep up and ripping them apart. “Don’t look back!” Ciela’s voice cracked with panic. Her hand gripped mine like iron, dragging me forward when my legs threatened to give way. But the screams—they wouldn’t stop. Every few seconds another one rang out, high-pitched, choked, then cut short. A boy I knew from class, gone. A girl whose laugh used to echo across the cafeteria, gone. I could hear them being caught, shredded, crushed, but I couldn’t turn. If I turned, I’d freeze. If I froze, I’d die. My chest burned, my ribs screamed in protest, and tears blurred my eyes. I wanted to shout, to beg, to stop running. But Ciela’s han
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