CHAPTER 57: FRESHER BALL (5)

Chapter 56: Fresher Ball (5)

Leon POV

The moment that word rang out Demon my chest tightened like a vice.

All around me, nobles screamed, scrambling like frightened birds. The barrier at the doors flared crimson as the first fools tried to escape, slamming against it and falling to the floor in panic.

But my eyes weren’t on them.

They were locked on the creatures crawling out of the summoning circle.

The smell hit me first sulfur and copper. Then the sight. The way their yellow eyes glowed in unison, like wolves stalking a kill.

My hand went to the hilt of my training sword. The steel felt pitifully light. Too fragile. Too small.

A voice brushed near me.

"Leon..."

Selena. Her hands trembled as she lifted them, threads of wind mana already sparking faintly around her fingertips. For once, there was no mischief in her eyes. Only fear.

I swallowed, forcing down the lump in my throat.

This was no duel. No academy spar.

This was death walking toward us on two legs.

"Stay close," I muttered. "Don’t wander. If you see an opening, strike—but never alone."

Her nod was quick, sharp.

For the first time, I realized we weren’t children anymore. Not here. Not now.

---

Selena POV

I had thought I understood fear.

I’d faced beasts during training, sparred against stronger opponents, even been scolded by instructors until I cried.

None of that was fear.

This—

This was fear.

The demons moved wrong. Too fluid, too heavy, too... unnatural. Every step rattled the floor like they belonged here, like this was their world and we were trespassers.

I wanted to run. Gods, I wanted to. My legs shook with the urge. But Leon’s voice anchored me, pulling me down before the terror swept me away.

"Stay close."

His back was to me, firm, steady.

And somehow, just seeing that spine straighten made me breathe again.

I clenched my hands tighter, forcing the wind to gather in my palms. My chest still heaved, my heart screamed run, but I whispered back:

Not yet. Not while he’s standing.

---

Eric POV

My breath caught when the first demon looked up.

No when Maria looked at it.

Even now, even with monsters crawling out of hell itself, I found my gaze dragged to her. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t falter. She looked at the creatures like they were inevitable, like she’d been waiting for this moment.

And beside her is him.

Michael Willson.

Sword drawn, posture unyielding.

The sight of her at his side tore something raw inside me.

I remembered.

Twelve years old.

Her silver eyes meeting mine for the first time in that Duke’s banquet hall.

I thought it was destiny.

I thought she was the girl I’d spend my life protecting.

Now, watching her stand shoulder to shoulder with another man, I felt my lungs burn not from fear, not from sulfur, but from something crueler.

I had wanted to show her my worth tonight.

Instead, I came with another girl, a fragile priestess who smiled with tears when I accepted her.

And Maria Frostheart... chose someone else.

But when the circle pulsed again and another demon soldier crawled free, I clenched my fists.

Fine. Let her watch.

Let her see.

If I had to carve these monsters apart with my bare hands, I would show her that Eric William was no coward.

Not before her.

Not before him.

---(Battlefield Tension)

The ballroom that once sparkled with laughter now seethed with tension.

Third-years formed tight knots, blades drawn, their discipline steady but eyes sharp with terror. Second-years took their cues, spreading into defensive lines. First-years... some steadied, others still trembled, clinging to courage they barely knew they had.

And in the center of it all, the summoning circle continued to glow.

Twenty demons.

Thirty.

More.

Their growls rolled across the marble like drums of war.

And the cadets of Arcadia realized this was no mere test.

------

Emily POV – Command Amid Chaos

The circle pulsed again.

And the air cracked open.

Demons poured from the glow in jerking lunges, claws raking marble, teeth snapping like wolves tearing meat. Their guttural roars shook chandeliers until crystal rained down.

Too many. My stomach clenched as I counted—eighteen, twenty, and more crawling through the red. D-rank strength, some touching D+. Enough to butcher a hall full of pampered cadets. And if worse came—

No time.

I drew steel, my voice rising like fire cutting through screams:

"SECOND- AND THIRD-YEARS, FORM LINES! Shields forward, casters rear! FIRST-YEARS, HOLD POSITION!"

The command hit them like a whip. Chaos rippled, but training held. Third-years clashed shields into place, a crude wall of steel and trembling arms. Second-years filled the gaps, some steady, others pale. First-years clustered in knots, wide-eyed.

Justin moved beside me, fire already spilling between his hands. "Emily—"

"I know." My grip locked white on my hilt. "We buy time. Protect the first-years. Until instructors arrive."

The words tasted like ash. I wasn’t sure anyone was coming.

"Shields brace!" roared Chris Blackthorn, voice deeper than I remembered. His greatshield thudded into place at the center, anchoring the line.

"Casters, ready!" Selena Veylan stepped forward, scythe of shadow flashing into existence with a shriek of mana. A dozen other mages followed, hands trembling over runes.

I lifted my blade, felt fire hum at its edge, and prayed my voice didn’t betray the tremor in my chest. "Steady! They bleed. They can be killed!"

The circle spat another wave. And then the demons struck.

---

Impact.

The first demon slammed into Chris’s shield, claws shrieking over steel. The shock drove him back half a step, boots grinding marble, but he held.

Another vaulted high, crashing into Aurelia Miller’s barrier spell. The rapier-wielder hissed as her defense cracked like glass. She answered with a flame-lanced thrust, skewering its chest and sending it writhing back.

"Hold! Hold, damn it!" shouted a senior cadet at the line, voice quaking.

Blood sprayed as a second-year too slow to raise his shield was torn across the shoulder, hurled screaming into the tables.

The formation rippled. Shields wavered. And in that instant chaos bloomed.

---

(Leon POV )

The sound. That was what struck hardest.

Claws screeching on steel. Bones snapping. Cadets screaming.

One demon broke through, slipping past a cracked shield. It lunged, eyes burning red.

I didn’t think. I moved.

My training blade hissed free, my body finding rhythm older than thought.

"Lionheart Sword Style—Form One: Rising Fang!"

The steel tore upward, like a lion’s pounce. It caught the demon across the chest, not deep, not fatal, but enough to stagger.

"Leon!" Selena’s voice, sharp. Her shadow scythe hissed, a crescent slash of mana slamming the beast’s head sideways.

It fell back, ichor dripping.

Alive. Barely.

My hands shook. This wasn’t sparring. Its hide was thick, its movements jerking, wrong. Its eyes weren’t human.

Too slow, Alastor’s voice cut into my skull, that ever-present commentary of the ancestral spirit bound to me. Your strike landed, but shallow. Balance is good control, precise—but you fight as if in a classroom. No predator survives on drills alone.

I grit my teeth. If I faltered, Selena would die.

If I faltered, so would I.

I forced my blade steady. "Form Two—Crushing Claw!"

Steel swept down, weight behind it, like a lion’s killing blow. It smashed the demon into the marble with a screech. Selena’s follow-up carved it still.

My chest heaved. My knuckles bled. But I was standing.

"Leon, left!" Selena cried.

Another demon lunged. My blade came up, sparks flying.

This was only the beginning.

---

(Selena POV )

My shadow scythe vibrated with mana, heavy in my hands. Too heavy. Every cast pulled at my veins, burned behind my eyes. But I forced more power.

"Casters, on my mark! VOLLEY!"

Half a dozen mages unleashed. Fire orbs streaked. Lightning cracked. A rain of ice shards tore into the front ranks of demons, staggering them.

The air shook with spells.

But their numbers didn’t falter.

One broke free, rushing straight for our line. My throat froze, mana tangled.

Leon’s blade intercepted, sparks spraying. "Stay behind me!"

"I can fight!" I snarled, forcing mana into a slash. "Night Veil Slash!"

Shadow ripped across the demon, carving it in two. It shrieked, dissolved. My breath came ragged, my knees weak.

Efficient, Alastor murmured from the ether. Terrifyingly so. But you burn too quickly, girl. A scythe with no endurance shatters in war.

"Not yet," I hissed. "I’ll hold."

Another spell lanced beside me—Elara’s arrow, earth essence piercing clean through a demon’s skull. "Focus fire on the flanks!" she cried, voice calm despite the chaos.

Leon’s stance never faltered, though I saw the tremor in his grip. If he could force himself to stand, so would I.

---

(Eric POV )

Steel rang left. A cadet screamed right.

But my eyes locked forward.

A demon broke the shield wall, straight for the cluster of first-years. Straight for Maria.

"[Blessing of Light]!" Lillian’s timid voice cracked behind me, faint gold wrapping my back.

I ignored it. My body already moved.

The demon lunged. My blade met it mid-charge, sparks flying, impact shattering through my arms. I held.

"Maria stay back!" I roared, even as Michael cut across its flank.

The demon shrieked, staggering.

Maria’s eyes flicked to me. Not warmth. Not gratitude. Cold calculation. Then to Michael—burning, alive.

Something cracked inside me.

I roared, slamming my blade deeper. "Die, damn you!"

It collapsed under our combined strikes, ichor hissing.

My breath came ragged, arms numb.

But my glare burned at Michael.

This wasn’t over. Not between us. Not ever.

---

The demons kept coming.

Shields shattered. Spells lit the air. Blood stained gowns and marble.

Chris Blackthorn anchored the line with Stone Guard, his shield immovable even as claws raked sparks. Aiden Stromfang darted like lightning, dual blades flashing, reckless but explosive, carving gaps before rolling back into formation.

Lyra Braveheart conjured a serpent of water that coiled around a demon’s throat, binding it long enough for Aurelia’s flame lunge to pierce its heart.

Edric William’s blade flared with light, a Radiant Slash cutting a demon in half. For a heartbeat, his presence steadied the wavering cadets around him.

And through the chaos, noble heirs and commoners alike realized—

This was no ball.

This was war.

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