In the control hall overlooking the ten arena rings, the walls were thick glass and steel, veined with reinforcement seals.
A red alarm still blinked faintly from the console.
Herr Direktor Klaus Eisenwulf stood with his arms crossed, his tall frame rigid as stone. His pristine silver officer's coat bore the insignia of Wolfram's highest authority.
Beside him, Professor Dietrich Faulkenrath, sleeves rolled and monocle crooked from how violently he'd stood earlier, paced near the observation monitors.
"That boy," Faulkenrath muttered. "That boy just committed murder in front of a hundred witnesses. Do we halt the Standoff? Suspend the match format? Bring in containment squads—"
"No," Eisenwulf said flatly. His voice was quiet but final.
Faulkenrath glanced at him in disbelief. "No? Klaus, someone just died! That boy's body was full of crows—what even was that?"
Before the headmaster could answer, the steel doors to the command room hissed open.
A man walked in, tall and broad-shouldered, clad in full matte-black combat armor trimmed with crimson.
The rank insignia on his pauldron bore the unmistakable mark of the Global Containment Coalition.
"Erhardt Schwarzklinge," Eisenwulf greeted without turning. "Commander."
"I heard," Schwarzklinge said simply. He stepped past the console and looked at the feed still playing Emric's finishing move from multiple angles. "He knew exactly what he was doing."
"Then you agree we stop the event," Faulkenrath said quickly. "We can't afford another one of those—"
"No," Schwarzklinge cut in.
Eisenwulf looked at him now, one brow raised. Faulkenrath sputtered.
"I'll stop anyone who tries to kill again," Schwarzklinge said, calm as if he were discussing training drills. "This event is important. It surfaces unpredictable talents. You both know that."
"You're saying to just move on from that?" Faulkenrath snapped. "Someone died."
"I'm saying lock down the killer, reinforce arena shields, and keep going. That's the mission."
Eisenwulf exhaled. "Very well. Guards will escort Emric Blah to temporary holding. We'll process his parasite after the matches."
Schwarzklinge tapped his comms. "Containment Squad Drei, extract the crow-parasite. No violence unless necessary. Move."
---
Kai leaned against the railing, arms crossed, eyes locked on the now-cleared Arena One.
The blood was gone—vaporized by cleanup drones—but the tension hadn't faded at all. It clung to the air like static.
Freya stood next to him, gripping her coat sleeve. "He didn't even flinch," she whispered. "Emric just… killed him."
"I didn't think he had it in him," Kai muttered. "He was always quiet and kind of awkward. I mean, Lothar was loud and dumb, but he didn't deserve that."
Down by the main walk, Class 1's elite were watching from their reserved seats. Elena Weissburg, Rank 3 of Class 1, leaned forward, her long braid swinging. "So the lowest-ranked from Class 5 just erased someone?" she asked.
Beside her, Lucas Graff—Rank 6, known for his tactical breakdowns—nodded slowly. "It wasn't luck. I believe that was planned. His speed, timing, the feather phase... That was a controlled kill."
"And he used a crow mutation," chimed in Danika Raum, Class 2 Rank 8.
From Class 2's bench, Julian Richter, Rank 1 of their year, scoffed. "He's not gonna last. When you kill someone like that in public, the GCC's gonna cut you off from real field missions for life."
"Still," said Ilse Gräfin, Rank 4. "If he can do that at the lowest rank… how many others are hiding their real strength?"
---
Alric was silent, arms crossed tightly as he stared down at Arena One. His brows were drawn, expression unreadable. Seren stood beside him, brows furrowed.
"I saw him last week," she murmured. "He was reading a book about birds. He even apologized for accidentally bumping into me."
Alric didn't look at her. "Maybe that was an act."
Kai turned away from the rail, eyes scanning the elite seats again. "This changes everything," he said. "No one's going to go easy now. They all saw what happened."
Freya looked at him. "Do you think the headmaster will actually let this go on?"
"The GCC Commander literally walked in and said he'll handle it," Kai said. "They're not stopping it."
Then Reno joined them, panting slightly from running. "Emric just got taken away in cuffs. The guards were gentle, but he didn't even resist."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "Because he knew it was coming."
All around them, the buzz of whispers from students filled the stands.
Rumors already swirled. Some said Emric was possessed. Others claimed he'd eaten a corrupted parasite.
A few even thought he might've fused with a Riftborn crow monster.
Whatever the truth was, one thing was certain: the Yearly Standoff wasn't just a school ranking test anymore.
The arena lights dimmed for just a second, and then the display panels flickered—
[Classroom 2, Rank 1: Julian Richter] vs [Classroom 3, Rank 7: Sylvie Harrow]
Kai narrowed his eyes. "That's Sylvie… from Midnight Band."
Freya adjusted her glasses. "Against Julian Richter? That's brutal."
Sylvie stepped into Arena One, long black coat shedding behind her. Her eyes were focused, calm, calculating.
From her shoulders and wrists, thin black veins slowly pulsed outward—then exploded into long, jagged whips, swaying like they had minds of their own.
Across the arena, Julian walked out with casual confidence. No weapons, no visible parasite growths, just a gloved hand twitching once.
"Don't blink," whispered Elena from the Class 1 section. "Julian doesn't toy with people."
The buzzer sounded.
Sylvie struck first.
Her whips lashed out in a perfect arc—two from the left, one from behind, one feinting high and slamming low. The veins split midair and curved unnaturally fast, aimed to entangle Julian before he could even blink.
But he was gone.
The crowd gasped. Even Kai tensed. "What—"
Julian appeared behind her in a blur, his boot just grazing the ground as he slid past.
CRACK!
A dull thud. Sylvie's leg buckled from a blow to the back of her knee, and she stumbled, whips twitching erratically.
He moved like a machine—no wasted motion. His fingers touched her shoulder, and electricity surged into her body. She screamed, her whips spasming as she rolled back, trying to create distance.
"Too slow," Julian muttered.
Sylvie forced herself to her feet. Her veins flared wide, now serrated with glimmering blades. She screamed, launching every strand she had—over a dozen—at once.
Julian didn't dodge. He stepped through them.
He moved so fast it felt like the world paused. In two precise steps, he passed under the first, ducked the second, and twisted his wrist.
CLANG.
A shockwave pulsed from his palm. Sylvie's veins snapped midair, thrown off by the pulse. She gasped, trying to defend, but Julian was already inside her guard.
A flash of light—then a palm strike to the gut. She flew backward.
The arena wall stopped her.
Silence.
The announcer hesitated—then the screen flashed.
"Winner: Julian Richter"
Applause erupted, but it wasn't celebration—it was shock. Murmurs spread across all sections.
"He read her too fast," Freya said. "She planned to wear him down, but he's too efficient."
Kai bit his lip. "So that's the top of Class 2…"
Julian didn't gloat. He turned, nodded once at the professors, and walked off the stage like it was just a warm-up.
[Classroom 5, Rank 2: Freya Li Tanya] vs [Classroom 3, Rank 6: Akari Tsukikage]
The screen flashed, and the crowd buzzed louder than before.
"She's up next?" Kai stood straighter, watching Akari step into Arena One with her usual calm confidence.
Akari walked forward, her white snake coiled loosely around her neck, its eyes scanning everything. Her tachi glinted faintly under the lights, the scabbard still untouched.
Across from her, Freya adjusted her gauntlet, a sleek black exo-arm that covered her entire forearm and extended up to her shoulder like armor plating. She rotated her wrist once, sparks hissed from the joints.
"Good luck, main character!" Reno hollered from the stands, waving both arms.
Kai cupped his hands. "Goodluck!"
Freya smirked as she got into stance. "Let's see what your snake does."
Akari didn't say a word. She bowed once, then her hand slowly touched the handle of her sword.
The buzzer rang.
Freya immediately surged forward, gauntlet charging with kinetic energy. A boom echoed across the arena floor. "I'll break through first!"
But Akari wasn't there anymore.
In a single motion, she sidestepped—not even with speed, just perfect timing—and unsheathed her blade just an inch.
CLANG.
Freya's arm slammed down into air, missing by less than a finger's width. Before she could adjust, Akari's tachi snapped forward—only once.
THWIP.
A clean strike hit the side of Freya's gauntlet. Sparks flew. Freya staggered back, shocked. "How—?"
Akari's eyes were cold, focused. She didn't even look at the snake, which never moved.
Another step.
Freya raised her arm, trying to block, but her balance was off. Akari's next move was faster—a horizontal slash across the leg guard, then a downward feint.
"Wait—!"
A blunt strike from the hilt slammed into Freya's neck brace. She crumpled.
KO.
The screen flashed.
"Winner: Akari Tsukikage"
The entire arena blinked.
"That was fast…" someone in Class 1 muttered.
"She didn't even use the snake."
Julian Richter, still leaning against the wall nearby, narrowed his eyes. "Precision-type. That tachi work's not normal."
"Oi, Freya's Class 5 Rank 2! She's not weak!" one of the students from Class 5 shouted.
"Then what does that make her?" another replied.
Akari turned, sheathed her blade, and walked off. She didn't even break a sweat. I guess my rift buddy is really strong...
Back in the stands, Kai exhaled. "She's gotten better again…"
After twenty-five minutes, the duels blurred together—students clashing, Parasites flaring, wins piling up, losses stinging. Even Reno had stepped into the arena, only to get blown away by a red-haired girl from Class 2 who smiled sweetly before knocking him flat.
Kai barely registered it. His eyes kept drifting.
Then, everything froze.
The screen flashed.
[Class 4, Rank 5: Nocturne van Louis] vs [Class 2, Rank 8: Danika Raum]
And just like that, Kai stopped breathing.
Nocturne...?
His heart lurched.
Nocturne. Nocturne—
The name repeated in his head like a gunshot that refused to echo just once.
He stood there, zoned out, blood rushing in his ears as a figure calmly stepped into Arena One. The crowd didn't react too much, just murmurs—Class 4 wasn't usually this hyped. But to Kai, it was as if someone had carved open the sky.
A man with long silver-black hair and a calm expression walked across the platform. His face was youthful, almost gentle. He didn't look like a killer, not like a warlord. But Kai knew.
No way. It's really him.
His hand clenched the railing in front of him.
He stared and stared—and then, suddenly, he wasn't in the arena anymore. He was back in the command tunnels beneath the northern wasteland, under flickering bulbs, with his father's voice echoing through failing radios.
Back when the Vogel clan still stood tall, when the Eastern Ridge was theirs.
But they fell. They fell because of him.
The man walking casually now, adjusting his gloves.
Nocturne van Louis—The one who led the Louis clan into prominence during the Clan Wars. The one who never once lost a tactical engagement. The one who orchestrated ambushes so perfect they made seasoned generals kneel.
The one Kai never defeated.
Not on the battlefield, not in strategy, not in anything.
Kai Alaric Vogel—back then still a rising prodigy with command over genetics and battlefields—couldn't stop him. Every time he thought he had Nocturne cornered, it was him who was being hunted.
And now that ghost had a name on the screen.
He's alive? He's here? In the same year? In Class 4? How?
"Kai?" Freya whispered, but he didn't answer.
Because in front of him stood the reason his mother and sister died.
Nocturne Van Louis destroyed his clan with only a pack of a thousand low-tier men. Kai had over ten-thousand men wearing reinforced armor. But, he still lost, and his mother and sister died in front of him.
And Nocturne hadn't even looked up yet. He just stood there like always—serene, cold, unreadable.
The boy who once ended legacies without raising his voice. And now, he was going to fight again after being "executed."