CHAPTER 59: "WHERE THE HELL IS KAEL?"

Meanwhile, Cecelia:

Cecelia stood near the back of the group. Her heart was pounding hard.

She scanned the crowd, her bright emerald eyes darting from one face to another, trying to spot someone.

(Where... where is Kael?) she thought, panic growing with every second.

But he wasn’t there.

Without thinking, Cecelia turned and broke into a run, rushing down a narrow side tunnel.

"Kael!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the cold stone walls.

(Where the hell did you go?!).

She didn’t care about the danger behind her. The fighting.

She was worried about him.

Her boots thudded against the stone floor as her pace quickened.

(Kael had disappeared just moments before the assassins attacked. That couldn’t be a coincidence. )

(Why would he leave right before the ambush? Did he sense something? Or was he already in danger? Is he okay?)

But there was nothing.

She ran everywhere.

Just an empty, silent stretch of tunnel. The air felt colder here, heavy with unease. The only sound was the silence of the tunnel and students murmuring from group two..

Then—

She heard the soft sound.

Cecelia froze as her heart leapt into her throat.

She ran toward the sound with her straight eyes.

Her mind raced.

(Another assassin?! No—Kael’s out here somewhere... what if—)

(What if he ran into one of them?)

Her breath caught in her chest.

Kael had no chance against those assassins.

He was still behind the others in training. If he was fighting one alone... he might already be...

Her voice came out low, tight with emotion with a mix of fear and hope.

"Kael?"

"Kael Ashford?!".

On the other hand...

While chaos unfolded in Group Two’s tunnel, something far more dangerous had been brewing quietly in Group One’s path and no one knew it.

Seven assassins had been hiding in wait to attack.

They were skilled, deadly, and patient. Hidden deep in the shadows of the tunnel walls and behind piles of debris, they had been watching and waiting.

Their plan was to strike when the group was most relaxed—when they least expected it.

Group One had just completed their dungeon challenge and was preparing to leave. Some students were laughing quietly, others were wiping sweat from their brows.

A few had their weapons sheathed already. They believed the worst was behind them.

They had no idea they were moments away from an ambush.

Then there was a flicker of light from one of the assassins.

One of the assassins lifted his hand, and a faint light briefly shine in the darkness. It was a signal.

A coded gesture, simple and quick—but it carried a message.

The assassins, through hidden marks and silent magic, had been linked in communication. A signal from deep in the tunnels had just reached them.

"Four assassins have been defeated."

"Students are fighting back."

"Academy staff are present."

That final message changed everything.

They paused.

The leader of the seven, a tall figure with a curved blade strapped to his back, clenched his jaw behind his mask. His eyes narrowed as he processed the news.

Four of their own—"taken down? By students?"

And worse—"professors were with them."

This wasn’t the simple infiltration they’d planned. It was supposed to be a clean sweep, a silent mission, and an easy message to the academy: You are vulnerable.

But now, everything has changed.

The leader raised two fingers, then quickly dropped them—a universal sign among the group.

ABORT!

And then all the assassins began to retreat. Swift in silent. And are perfectly coordinated with each other.

They moved like shadows, disappearing into cracks in the walls, scaling the jagged stone silently, and slipping deeper into the maze of tunnels that webbed beneath the ground.

Their plan had failed—but they had not yet been seen.

Or so they thought.

Because right before they could fully escape—

One student turned her head.

It was Alina, a sharp-eyed mage near the back of the group. She paused, sensing something off.

A faint shimmer. A glint of metal.

Her brows furrowed. She took a step forward, scanning the edge of the cavern.

Then, just as she was about to look away, she saw it—a brief flicker of movement at the edge of the shadows. It wasn’t the kind of random motion that came from wind and it was sharp, deliberate, and far too fast to be anything natural.

Too quick... too precise. A chill ran down her spine as realization sank in.

"Was someone there?".

Her breath hitched, caught between fear and certainty, as her instincts screamed that this was no trick of the eye and this was real.

"Wait..." she whispered, just loud enough for the nearby students to hear. "Something’s there."

The laughter faded.

The students turned. They followed her gaze.

At first, they saw nothing.

Then...

The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the tunnel—light, quick, and barely noticeable, like whispers on stone.

It was the kind of movement that vanished almost as quickly as it came, but for those who caught it, it was unmistakable.

A sudden realization struck several students at once.

"Is this... a beast trial?" one of them murmured in confusion.

"We just finished the dungeon quest—why is something else starting already?"

The idea spread like wildfire. Whispers and murmurs rippled through the group.

Many began to think this was simply the next phase of their test, something the academy had planned to challenge them.

From behind, a student added with a chuckle, "Heh, maybe it’s a hidden boss round."

Another scoffed, "Tch. They’re just testing our alertness. Typical mountain."

Some students even relaxed slightly, misreading the signs.

"Oh, look," one of them said with a grin, "they’re running away. Must be part of the dungeon trial script."

"They must’ve realized we cleared it already. Stupid beasts," someone else muttered, trying to sound brave.

"They got scared and ran."

But not everyone was so quick to laugh.

Alina’s sharp eyes remained fixed on the direction the shadows had moved. Her grip on her staff stood tight. She wasn’t so sure this was part of any school-sanctioned trial.

Up ahead, only two figures remained visible, far down the tunnel—the last of the assassins, their dark cloaks blending into the dim tunnel.

(They didn’t advance. They didn’t speak.)

They just stood still for a moment, watching.

Then, one of them—taller than the rest—locked eyes with Alina.

Even from that distance, she could feel the weight of his gaze.

Cold.

Calculating.

Dangerous.

A silent warning passed between them.

"Next time."