CHAPTER 165: 165. BACK IN ROSE ACADEMY

We stood there, frozen for a moment, as the air around us seemed to warp. The tremors that had shaken the land just moments ago were now reverberating through the very space we occupied.

Zyon, usually so composed, was visibly unsettled. "Aunt Isolde, is this really normal?" His voice was steady, but the unease was evident. "Is this part of the battle?"

Art, ever the one to crack a joke in tense situations, couldn’t help himself. "Yup, I feel like the world’s ending. Wouldn’t be surprised if Opalcrest is nothing but ash by now."

Isolde’s face tightened, her calm exterior betraying a flicker of concern. She shook her head. "No. Usually, Lucian doesn’t take this long to finish a fight. But given that the dragon is ranked above him... this could be different." Her gaze shifted toward the horizon, the distant roars of their battle reverberating through the air. "I just hope everything ends well."

I couldn’t help but scoff internally. ’Usually doesn’t take this long?’ I thought. What kind of power did Lucian wield? It felt like this battle had been going on for mere minutes, yet the earth itself was shaking beneath our feet. This wasn’t normal, not by any stretch of the imagination.

I turned my attention to the others. Freya was keeping a close watch over Amelia, who was cradling the unconscious Leon in her lap. It was a bittersweet sight—Leon, his body exhausted from his earlier efforts. Meanwhile, Amelia’s face was streaked with tears, the weight of the moment too much for her to bear.

I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, but my focus was elsewhere. The land around us was trembling, and while I was curious about the source of the violent shaking, I knew better than to make assumptions. It was clear the storm that Lucian had unleashed was powerful, and the very land seemed to bear witness to that power.

Suddenly, I felt a shift in the air. My senses sharpened, and my gaze flicked toward Isolde, who was standing almost perfectly still, her expression unreadable.

Zyon glanced at me and then back at Isolde. "So, how are we not getting caught in this? I mean, this whole place feels like it’s about to fall apart."

Isolde gave us a cryptic look. "Don’t worry," she said, as if reading my thoughts. "I’m protecting us from the aftermath. I can’t allow the battle’s energy to spill over into this space, but..." She sighed, a rare moment of hesitation crossing her features. "The mana in the atmosphere is so erratic right now that I can’t open a portal."

That made sense. I attempted to tap into my own mana, using my [ Threaded Control ] skill to channel energy, but nothing came. It was as if the very fabric of mana had been disturbed, leaving me unable to connect to it.

Isolde’s eyes flicked toward me for a brief moment, and for a split second, I could’ve sworn she was watching me more closely than usual. But then, as if dismissing whatever thought she’d had, she returned her attention to the scene unfolding before us.

As the seconds ticked by, the tension in the air grew thicker. Art, unable to remain quiet for long, broke the silence. "Honestly, I’m getting bored. What the hell are we supposed to do while all this is happening?"

Isolde didn’t even flinch. "You’ve been here for two minutes, and you’re already bored?" she asked, her voice laced with exasperation. "And you haven’t stopped talking. You need help."

Zyon and I didn’t hesitate to nod in agreement. Art’s incessant chatter had a way of getting under my skin, but I refrained from responding. There was a bigger issue at hand. Still, I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips as I caught a glimpse of Art’s playful frustration.

"You guys are such buzzkills," Art muttered, his shoulders slumping as he gestured around us. "How can you sit here without saying a word for more than a second? It’s like the silence is suffocating."

Isolde rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Fine, Art. If it’ll shut you up, go ahead. What do you suggest we do?"

Art grinned like a child who had just been handed a toy. But before he could open his mouth to speak, Isolde raised her hand, effectively silencing him. He started to protest, but then froze, the energy in the air shifting once more.

Without warning, the very space around us seemed to crack. Mana rippled and churned violently, and the barrier that had been keeping us safe from the devastating effects of the battle shattered like glass. The air grew thick, saturated with an overwhelming presence.

I was about to ask Isolde what was happening when a loud, resonating crack split the air.

And then... it happened. A spatial rift tore open in front of us, as if reality itself was bending under the weight of the battle.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause, frozen in time. Then, with a deafening roar, the rift widened, and something massive began to emerge.

« Spawn of Vorr’Kael »

Type: Thrall

Rank: ★★★★★★

Alignment: Aggressive

Drop: N/A

« Close »

That was all the system offered.

’Who the fuck was Vorr’Kael?’

None of us had time to ponder it deeply. Our bodies had already moved on instinct, taking battle stances as our mana flared to the surface. Everyone, that is, except Leon and Zyon—he couldn’t condense his mana.

I didn’t waste a second and turned to Isolde. "You got any clue who this Vorr’Kael is? Because whatever that thing is, it looks like a spawn straight out of a cosmic nightmare."

Isolde shook her head, her expression visibly grim. Strangely, despite the fact that her earlier barrier had been completely obliterated, the tremors had stopped. No residual quakes, no roaring air. Just eerie silence.

"I’ve never heard of Vorr’Kael," she admitted. "Not in any legend, ancient record, or buried volume from Cronica’s history. And I’ve read nearly all of them."

Which meant one thing—whatever this thing was, it wasn’t from Cronica.

My attention shifted back to the beast trying—and failing—to squeeze itself through the rift. Its full body couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was a blessing. What was visible, however, was enough to induce nausea.

It had the body of a reptilian behemoth, like some unholy fusion of a komodo dragon and a leviathan. Viscous saliva dripped from its jagged maw. Its obsidian-black skin shimmered faintly with veins of pulsating blue, as though made from coal and condensed mana. Every breath it took distorted the surrounding air.

Then a terrifying realization dawned on me.

We couldn’t use our mana.

I immediately tried to channel [Threaded Control]—nothing. No feedback, no reaction. My next instinct was to summon my [Amethyst Lightning], focusing everything into my fist—and this time, it worked.

Before I could even feel relieved, Isolde’s sharp voice cut through the stillness. "The portal’s opened—now get through it!"

No hesitation. I rushed to Amelia and Leon. She was still clutching him close, despite her own state of fatigue. I lifted Leon onto my back and sprinted toward the portal with the others already halfway through.

Zyon and Art dove in first. I followed.

The next moment, the world blinked.

I found myself in familiar territory.

Rose Academy. Our dormitory grounds.

Seconds later, the rest emerged through the rift. Isolde was the last one out. With a motion of her fingers, the portal closed behind her.

Zyon looked around first. "Is everyone here?"

One by one, we confirmed. "Yes." "Yeah." "Here."

For a moment, everything was still.

And then another disturbing realization hit. The air—it still carried the same mana tint as the place we’d just left. The same erratic, distorted feel. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

We were on a completely different continent.

Isolde must’ve noticed too. Her expression was unreadable as she walked several paces away from us. Then she turned her back and said, "I’m going to investigate. Whatever just happened... it’s not over. You kids should get yourselves checked out. Don’t do anything stupid."

And then she vanished.

I turned to Zyon. "Let’s go check the wards. Make sure the other students from Opalcrest got back. Especially the ones on the trip."

He nodded, taking Leon on his back. "I’ve got him. You lead."

Freya and Amelia followed silently. Amelia looked like a complete wreck—emotionally, mentally. She was fragile. Not even crying anymore. Just... blank.

She needed more than healing. She needed therapy, divine intervention—take your pick.

We walked through the familiar winding hallways, and before long, we reached the Academy’s medical ward.

The same room we always ended up in.

And of course—there she was. The pink-haired nurse, dressed in yet another questionable outfit that raised more eyebrows than her actual treatment methods.

Her eyes scanned us lazily before she sighed. "You masochists again? Who got mauled this time?"

I offered her my most charming grin. "No mauling. Just mana exhaustion for this guy." I gestured to Leon. "Also, got a question."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

"Did any students from Opalcrest arrive here recently? You know—the ones who were on the academic tour?"

She shrugged casually, as if we hadn’t just escaped from the epicenter of an eldritch apocalypse. "Yeah. They made it back fine. A bit shaken up, but no casualties."

Relief slammed into me like a truck. "Good. That’s good."

I hesitated before asking the next part. "Also... did someone come in recently? A tan girl, slightly taller than me, fit build, deep blue eyes. Probably not quiet."

She nodded with the same bored tone. "Yup. Kaelira. Evelyn brought her in. She’s patched up now. You can find her in the third wing garden."

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Perfect. Thanks."