Three days after the Trials, the academy halls still buzzed with one name: Ash.
Not because he was charming. Not because he played politics. But because the upper-year elites — the noble prodigies who'd ruled the student rankings for years — were silent when he passed.
They didn't understand him.
But they feared him.
Ash walked like a reaper who didn't need permission to take souls.
And beside him? Kirito — always quiet, always unreadable, but with the calm of someone who had already planned ten steps ahead in a game no one else knew they were playing.
Seraphina, meanwhile, didn't try to follow Ash.
She walked beside him.
And that made all the difference.
The academy cafeteria was a palace of glass and spell-forged silver. Students lounged like royalty — until Ash and Kirito entered.
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
A noble girl choked on her laugh.
Three boys pretending to be alphas suddenly remembered other tables to sit at.
Ash didn't notice. Or maybe he didn't care.
He took a seat by the far wall, back to stone, eyes scanning exits.
Seraphina joined him seconds later. She set her tray down like she'd been sitting there forever.
Kirito remained standing, eyes flicking between students like a predator on a timed hunt.
"You know they're planning something," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Ash didn't look up. "They always are."
"They're scared of you."
Ash's gaze was distant. "They should be scared of her."
Kirito blinked once. "Her?"
Ash nodded toward Seraphina, who was calmly eating like she hadn't just caught the attention of every noble house heir in the school.
"She adapts too fast. Syncs too well. She doesn't hesitate, but she doesn't kill for ego."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "You always talk about people like they're threats."
"I talk about them the way the world makes them."
Later that night, a message arrived.
No seal. No signature.
Just six words, etched into black parchment, burning faintly at the edges:
"The First Duel Begins at Midnight."
Ash stared at it.
Seraphina leaned closer, reading it aloud.
"Is this a challenge?" she asked.
Kirito took the note, sniffed it once, and nodded. "Void-scorched ink. Blood pact magic. It's not official."
Ash stood.
"It's not a challenge," he said.
"It's an invitation."
They found the entrance behind the academy's oldest library wing — a wall of stone that dissolved at Ash's touch like it had been waiting for him.
Beyond it lay the Forbidden Arena.
Carved in obsidian. Lit by floating chains of ghostlight. Sealed by wards older than the Dominion itself.
Students gathered in silence — upper-years, rogue bloodliners, exiled heirs. All of them wearing enchanted masks to hide their identities.
But not Ash.
He walked in bare-faced.
Seraphina followed him, no hesitation.
Kirito leaned against the far wall, arms folded, already bored.
A circle of fire lit in the middle of the arena.
From it stepped a figure in deep crimson armor, enchanted with runes from five different kingdoms. His magic pulsed like a war drum.
The crowd murmured.
"Isn't that Arix Valden?"
"Third-year. Duelist Champion. Half-dragon blood."
"He's going to destroy that first-year."
Arix cracked his neck. "You're the one they're whispering about," he said. "Ash."
Ash nodded once.
"You're not special," Arix said, summoning a massive greatsword wrapped in flames. "You're a mistake."
Ash tilted his head.
"Then let's correct it."
The duel began.
Arix charged — a tidal wave of force and flame.
Ash didn't move. Until the last second.
Then he vanished.
No flash. No smoke. Just… gone.
The crowd gasped.
Arix staggered. Looked around.
A shadow rose behind him.
Ash was already there.
He whispered a spell in a tongue that hadn't been spoken in centuries.
Arix's armor cracked.
Then shattered.
His weapon fell.
Ash stepped back, blade unsheathed but unstained.
Arix dropped to one knee, coughing blood.
"I yield—"
Ash didn't even blink.
He looked at the crowd.
"The next one better be worth my time."
Silence.
Then Kirito clapped — once.
Seraphina didn't smile, but her eyes were on fire.
The crowd shifted. The hierarchy was collapsing.
Because tonight, the maskless boy became something else.
Not a student.
Not a contender.
A threat.
That night, alone on the roof of the dorms, Ash stared at the stars.
Seraphina found him again. Like gravity.
"You didn't have to break him like that," she said.
"Yes, I did."
She was quiet for a moment.
"You're not what I expected."
Ash looked at her. "What did you expect?"
"Someone angry. Lost. Trying to prove something."
She stepped closer.
"But you're not trying, are you? You already know exactly who you are."
He didn't speak.
She leaned closer.
"I think that scares them more than your power."
Ash looked down at the academy lights, far below.
"They should be scared," he said. "Because I haven't even started."