CHAPTER 192: CHAPTER 192 - INTO THE SHADOWS

The morning mist still clung faintly to the grass of the training ground, soft threads of white curling in the air as the sun stretched its first golden rays over Arcadia’s rooftops. Steel clashed in the distance where other students sparred, but in the quieter corner where Luca stood, the air carried a different kind of tension.

Eric adjusted his sleeves, curiosity shining in his eyes as he leaned slightly forward. Beside him, the Saintess folded her hands delicately, her serene expression marred by the faint downturn of her lips.

Big Bull, true to his name, gave a hearty laugh that echoed across the field, scratching the back of his neck as if none of this mattered at all.

"So everyone," Luca finally said, trying to ease the mood with a small smile, "this is our fifth team member—Selena Weiss."

From the edge of the field, a slim figure with long white hair had approached. Her steps were steady, each one carrying an air of unshakable confidence. When she finally stopped before them, her icy violet eyes scanned the group, unreadable.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her voice flat and cold, almost cutting through the morning quiet.

Eric’s mouth parted slightly, and the Saintess blinked, her brows drawing together as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. The awkward silence pressed in until Luca coughed lightly, rubbing the back of his head.

"W-well then, let’s do the introductions." He gestured toward Eric first. "This is Eric, my friend, who is a..." He trailed off awkwardly, then quickly waved it away. "Ahem, let’s move on. This here is the Saintess."

He pointed at the towering figure behind him. "And that’s Big Bull."

Selena merely nodded once, her face betraying no reaction, as if their introductions were trivial.

Eric suddenly hopped in place, his enthusiasm bursting out. "Hey! Are you serious? Even hell difficulty won’t amount to much in front of this team!" His voice carried with raw excitement, almost loud enough to startle the sparring students nearby.

He threw his arms wide, gesturing first to Big Bull. "We’ve got the best tank among the first years." Big Bull tilted his head with a sheepish grin, rubbing at his broad shoulders like he wasn’t sure if that was praise or teasing.

Eric turned next to the Saintess, his expression softening. "The best healer anyone could ask for."

His eyes flicked toward Selena. "And the strongest mage among all freshmen."

Finally, he grinned at Luca, teeth flashing as his voice rose even more. "And the strongest warrior ever—who’s already broken all the records among the first years!"

The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy yet exhilarating. Luca blinked, looking slowly around at each of them. For a brief moment, the weight of their presence pressed on him. W-why does it look like a party made for WAR? he thought, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

Still, warmth stirred in his chest. Well, I’m not complaining.

"And you, Eric," Luca said with a sly grin, "with your Dream Butterfly... you can be considered... a decent illusionist."

Eric’s head snapped toward him, his face scrunching up. "Hey now! That’s unfair!"

Luca laughed, waving a hand. "What? Don’t you want to leave this team anymore?"

Eric’s chest puffed up, pride flashing in his eyes. "Are you crazy? Where else would you find this much safety?"

That broke the tension. Big Bull let out a booming laugh that made the ground almost tremble, clapping his hands together. The Saintess pressed her fingers to her lips, a rare and genuine smile tugging there. Even Selena, expression like frost, allowed the faintest twitch at the corners of her lips—subtle, but unmistakable.

For the first time, the team felt like a team.

"Then it’s settled," Luca said, his voice firm with decision. "Let’s go and submit the application."

Everyone nodded in unison.

Eric stretched his arms lazily, grinning. "Why don’t you go alone? I don’t think there’s a need for all of us to tag along."

Luca thought for a moment, then nodded. He turned to Selena, his tone carrying quiet weight. "Why don’t you practice a bit with Big Bull? Use your full strength. Eric will explain everything to you."

He knew Selena wouldn’t show it, but doubts had to be lingering in her heart. Nobody really knew Big Bull—not yet. It was better they tested each other now rather than later.

As the wind stirred faintly across the training ground, Luca exhaled, steeling himself, and began walking toward Seraphina’s office. Behind him, laughter and light chatter carried once more, filling the cool morning air.

Luca paused outside Seraphina’s cabin, his hand hovering over the wooden door. The last time he had stood here, things had been far more complicated than he cared to remember. A faint breath left his lips as he reached for the handle—

—only for the door to creak open from the inside.

A familiar figure stepped out. Golden eyes immediately met his.

Aiden.

The two boys exchanged nothing more than a nod at first. Silent acknowledgment. Yet the air between them seemed to harden, growing heavier with every heartbeat. Neither spoke, but neither looked away either. Luca could almost feel the faint sparks in that silence—two blades crossing without ever being drawn.

Why so tense all of a sudden? Luca thought, tilting his head slightly.

At last, Aiden’s lips moved, his voice calm but firm.

"See you in the exams."

And with that, he walked past, his presence leaving behind a trail of pressure that only eased once his back disappeared down the corridor.

Luca glanced after him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I might be enjoying this more than I thought.

Shaking off the thought, he stepped into the cabin.

"Professor," he greeted.

Behind the desk, Seraphina looked up. Her usually sharp eyes were dulled, rimmed faintly red, the fatigue written plainly on her face. She stifled a yawn before gesturing to the chair opposite her.

"Sit down."

Luca obeyed, settling in with a slight frown.

"You should rest, Professor."

She gave a soft, tired chuckle, shaking her head as another yawn escaped.

"I won’t get much rest until your final exams are over."

Luca leaned back, studying her carefully. So even someone like her can be worn down this much. These preparations must be crushing her.

"I’m here to submit the team," he said.

Seraphina reached into the drawer and pulled out a sleek crystal device, sliding it across the desk toward him.

"Enter the details and difficulty here."

Luca tapped the device, entering the names of his chosen members one by one. When the final entry was in place, he pressed the confirmation rune and slid the device back across the desk.

Seraphina’s eyes flicked over the glowing list—and widened.

"I thought Student Aiden’s team was already strong enough..." Her brows rose slightly. "But yours is not bad either."

Luca’s lips curved faintly upward. She doesn’t know about Big Bull yet.

Pushing his chair back, he stood.

"Then I’ll take my leave. And if possible..." His tone softened slightly as he gave her a faint, almost brotherly smile. "Do take some rest."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stepped out of the office, the quiet click of the door sealing the moment behind him.

***

[Somewhere else]

The air reeked of rot and burnt iron. Shadows clung to the jagged stone walls, twisting unnaturally as if alive, while the ground itself pulsed faintly with corrupted mana. It gathered thick and heavy in the cavern, suffocating, like a living miasma that gnawed at the skin and soul alike.

Before a blackened throne carved from obsidian, thousands of hooded cultists knelt as one, their foreheads pressed against the cracked ground. The rhythmic pounding of their fists on the earth echoed like a heartbeat of madness, the cavern trembling faintly with their devotion.

One man stood at the forefront, bowing so low that his trembling hands scraped bloody against the stone. He did not dare raise his eyes.

On the throne, a figure cloaked in writhing shadows leaned forward. Its outline shifted constantly, as if the very darkness refused to take a stable form. When it spoke, the voice that spilled out was shrill and jagged, a sound that pierced through bone like rusted blades.

"What is it?"

The bowing man swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he forced words past his throat.

"E-everything is ready, Lord Second General."

The figure tilted its head, the screech in its tone slicing deeper.

"Good. I cannot send more of my clones... my power has yet to fully recover. I will leave this to you."

The man’s entire body quivered. A bead of sweat slid down his face and dropped onto the stone as he stammered, "It—it is my fortune, my lord."

The darkness writhed more violently, as though pleased by his fear. Then came the command—razor sharp, absolute:

"Bring me the head of the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom. Let them all know—we are not afraid. We come for them... we come for the Emperor."

The bowing man’s body shook as he slammed his forehead to the ground. "For the Emperor!"

The words rippled out like fire. Thousands of voices rose in unison, guttural and wild, chanting with frenzied devotion until the cavern shook and the very air seemed to bleed.

"Blood for the Emperor, flesh for the Emperor, soul for the Emperor!

Blood for the Emperor, flesh for the Emperor, soul for the Emperor!"

The chant thundered on, a storm of fanatic cries that shook the abyss itself—until it was impossible to tell whether it was men or monsters who howled for blood.