CHAPTER 294: EXPERIMENTS (2)

Elara knelt in front of him, her tone gentler than Merlin had ever heard it.

"They were wrong," she said simply. "That’s all that matters now."

Cale’s lips trembled. "But they—they killed my friend."

Silence.

Only the wind answered.

Merlin took a slow breath and stepped forward. He rested a hand lightly on the boy’s shoulder.

"They won’t hurt anyone else," he said quietly. "I promise."

Cale didn’t respond, just stared down, eyes glistening.

After a few moments, the healers moved in and helped him to his feet. He was escorted toward the carriages waiting beyond the ridge, bound for the academy infirmary.

When he was gone, the field felt emptier.

Elara spoke again, her voice low. "You’ve seen this before."

Merlin didn’t answer at first. His hand tightened at his side.

’More than once,’ he thought. ’In the novel, this was only supposed to start next year. The corruption arc, minor villains testing mana-draining tech on students. It was background noise, nothing serious until it escalated later. But now...’

Now it was real.

He finally said, "They’re testing something. That’s all I know for sure."

Elara watched him. She didn’t press, but her gaze lingered. She had learned by now that when Merlin hid something, it wasn’t out of arrogance, it was out of caution.

Still, she said quietly, "Don’t carry it alone."

Merlin gave a faint, tired smile. "You make that sound easy."

"It’s not," she replied. "But I’ll keep saying it anyway."

For a while, neither spoke again. The sky was clearing now, light blue peeking through the smoke. Somewhere in the distance, the academy’s bell tower chimed, faint but clear.

Merlin exhaled slowly. The world felt heavy, but real. Tangible. The kind of reality that made his skin prickle and his chest tighten.

Then, a soft hum.

He looked down. His academy band flickered faintly with light. A message rune.

Elara’s did the same.

They exchanged a glance before raising their wrists to read.

[To: Second-Year Squad 3 — Immediate Debrief Required. Headmistress Morgana requests your presence. Location: Central Tower.]

[Priority: Urgent.]

Elara’s brows furrowed. "She already knows."

"She always does," Merlin muttered.

They stood in silence for another heartbeat before turning toward the distant silhouette of the academy rising beyond the ridge. The sunlight glinted off the tower’s upper spire, bright, unyielding, watchful.

Merlin brushed a hand across his sleeve, flicking away the soot.

"...Let’s go."

Elara nodded once. "Let’s."

As they walked, the wind stirred the ashes behind them, faint spirals of gray rising into the sky, carried by the same wind that tugged at Merlin’s hair.

’It’s starting,’ he thought.

’The story’s shifting again.’

He didn’t know what the organization wanted, or why they’d moved so soon. But deep down, a familiar unease pulsed in his chest.

Because he remembered something from the novel’s Chapters that never made sense, a hidden note, a reference to an event that had never been explained.

A phrase that had always haunted him.

"When the second year bleeds early, the gods will look down once more."

Merlin’s steps slowed.

Elara glanced at him. "What is it?"

"...Nothing." He shook his head lightly. "Just thinking."

She studied him for a moment longer before turning back toward the path.

The two of them continued in silence, the ruins shrinking behind them, the academy gates looming ahead.

The storm had passed—

but the air still carried the scent of something burning.

The corridors of Starpower Academy were quieter than usual that afternoon.

Too quiet.

The day’s sunlight slanted through the long arched windows, scattering across the polished marble floors. The banners of the academy, blue and silver, threaded with faint mana, hung still in the air, unmoving even in the wind that should’ve passed through the courtyard. It was as if the entire building itself was holding its breath.

Merlin Everhart walked beside Elara Vaelith, their footsteps echoing softly down the main hall toward the Headmistress’s office. Both still wore the aftermath of the earlier skirmish, scorched fabric, faint cuts, and the scent of burned mana clinging faintly to their uniforms.

They reached the large double doors marked with the engraved emblem of the academy, a five-pointed star wrapped in rings of energy.

Elara glanced at Merlin before knocking twice.

"Enter," came a calm, unmistakable voice from within.

The doors opened with a whisper.

Morgana sat behind her desk, which was wide, carved from blackwood, its surface filled with floating data crystals and glowing reports. Her violet eyes lifted as they stepped in, piercing and deliberate.

Behind her stood Professor Lysandor, the tall combat instructor with silver eyes like blades, and Instructor Eira, the academy’s healer, her expression gentler but no less wary.

Morgana didn’t gesture for them to sit, not yet. She simply studied them.

The weight of her silence alone pressed heavier than any words could.

Finally: "You two were the first to reach the northern testing zone."

Merlin nodded once. "Yes, ma’am."

"I assume you understand the gravity of what occurred?"

"We do," Elara answered before he could. "There were hostiles, armed, coordinated. They were waiting for the second-year group."

Morgana’s eyes flicked to her, then to Merlin. "And yet, only you two engaged. Why?"

"Because the rest would’ve been wiped out," Merlin said simply. "They weren’t equipped to handle what was there."

His voice was calm, even, but there was a subtle edge under it, a restrained certainty that made even Lysandor’s brow furrow slightly.

Morgana tapped one finger against her desk.

"Describe them."

"Black uniforms. Crimson bands on the left sleeve. Modified gauntlets embedded with unstable mana stones," Merlin replied. "Their control wasn’t natural. Artificial augmentation, maybe using resonance stimulants."

Lysandor frowned. "That level of coordination... are we suggesting—"

"Yes," Merlin interrupted quietly. "The Obsidian Veil."

Elara stiffened beside him. "You’re sure?"

He didn’t answer immediately. His golden eyes met Morgana’s. "I’ve read their patterns before."

Of course, he had, in the novel.

Every move they made now mirrored the script he remembered almost word-for-word. The Obsidian Veil: a small organization that would later become infamous for triggering an international conflict.

But none of them knew that. Only he did.

Morgana leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing, violet light faintly flickering around her irises. "That group hasn’t been active for years. Not since the southern border collapse."

"Then someone’s reviving them," Merlin said.

The silence that followed was sharp.

Even Eira’s usually calm composure faltered.

"Show me what they used." Morgana extended her hand.