The Catacombs echoed with chaos.
Maki walked through it like it was a shopping mall.
She passed a student dangling upside down from a rune-net trap, screaming for help. Another limped past her, charred and coughing from a blast that probably wasn't even meant for them. Two others were locked in a fierce battle a few paces ahead, two different gifts fighting over which is superior.
Maki didn't flinch. She didn't even glance.
She just kept walking, boots crunching against the cracked stone floor, arms folded, eyes locked forward.
They weren't her problem.
She was getting close now.
The center of the Catacombs.
That place was the only site here where one can gain administrative control over the Catacombs.
It couldn't have been the students though, they would have to pass through multiple guardians, hell-difficulty traps and unfair test to get there.
Just then—The Catacombs shook.
A wave of pressure slammed through the corridors like a divine pulse.
Dust rained down.
The air grew heavy and thick almost like there was a weight to the space around. Students all around froze mid-fight. Some dropped their weapons. Others hit the ground outright, overwhelmed.
Maki's eyes lit up.
Finally.
A slow, wicked grin crept onto her face.
Black must've found one of them.
She could already see it—some cocky first-year getting humbled in real time. Maybe Daniel. Maybe even that superhero brat. Either way, they were about to learn why the horny delinquent was called the Undisputed Second-Year Rank One.
"Teach 'em, Black," she muttered under her breath. "Drag 'em through the dirt."
But then—
It stopped.
Just like that, the pressure vanished. The quake settled. The air cleared. The moment... passed.
Maki's smile faded.
She slowed her steps.
"...That's weird."
For Black to go all-out, his opponent would've had to be serious. And if they were good enough to push him, then they were good enough to last longer than a few seconds.
Her first thought was Daniel. Then the superhero kid. Either of them might make him sweat a little.
But there was no follow-up blast. No second wave. No lingering aura. Just quiet.
A dangerous kind of quiet.
Maki frowned.
Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. Black doesn't lose. No one takes down a No.1 that fast. Not unless they're from the upper years. Not unless…
She killed the thought before it finished.
"...I'm thinking too much," she muttered, shaking her head.
The sound of fighting resumed around her. A scream echoed from deeper in the tunnels. Somewhere behind her, an explosion lit up the walls in a pulse of blue fire.
Maki didn't flinch.
She kept walking.
And didn't look back.
---
Center Of The Catacombs.
The room was dark.
A low, eerie hum buzzed beneath the stone floor—barely noticeable, but unmistakably unnatural. Cracks lined the walls, glowing faintly with red runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. And in the center of the chamber…
It stood.
A black longsword, stabbed upright into an altar of scorched stone. Its blade looked burned, like it had survived a firestorm and decided to keep the scars.
Kale stood before it in silence.
He didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Even from a distance, he could tell—it wasn't ordinary. Not even close.
He had been raised in a palace saturated with rune-techs and weaponry. As the fourth prince, he'd touched relics older than mountains. Wielded blades forged in dragon flame. Hell, some were even made with the dragons themselves. But this sword?
This one felt different.
Wrong, almost.
And that made it fascinating.
This doesn't feel like something the Academy meant to leave here.
His eyes narrowed. He remembered the guardian he'd fought just to get in. It would have crushed the version of him from just a week ago.
But now?
Now I'm different. Unstoppable. But, is it... enough?
He clenched his fists.
Power flowed through him. Steady. Controlled. Dangerous.
Then—Footsteps.
He turned.
A figure approached through the archway behind him. A girl. Dressed in deep red mage robes, a wide witch hat tilted stylishly to one side. Her gait was light, but her aura wasn't. It slid into the room ahead of her like a fog—subtle, but sharp.
Kale's eyes flicked up and down. Then he placed her.
One of the four girls Sion saved during the entrance exam.
But something was off. She was different now. Her presence wasn't meek or overwhelmed.
It was composed. Confident.
She smiled as she neared.
"Hey, hostel leader."
Kale scoffed.
"Drop whatever act you're planning. I know you girls aren't simple. Hell, even the one who saved you figured it out."
nLympha's brows creased.
"He… knew?"
Kale chuckled—a cold, amused sound.
"You really are arrogant. I don't care where you're from, or who you report to, but don't make the mistake of underestimating those of us who passed through the Academy gates and lived."
"Tch," nLympha scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"The me now can tell, you are a bit stronger than I was." Kale suddenly said.
nLympha's eyes narrowed slightly. She then flicked her red hair over her shoulder.
"If you know that… why are you still bragging about your rural little kingdom?"
"Because you don't get it." Kale stepped toward the altar. "You don't even have the frame of reference. You can't comprehend the level of power someone like Daniel holds."
He paused.
"Not to mention the superhero."
Her expression twitched.
"What are you talking about?" she asked. "I thought you were stronger than him now. Even before whatever you did to transform, weren't you already stronger?"
Kale didn't answer right away.
Instead, his eyes blazed with focus as he neared the sword.
It stood still.
Black. Burned. Silent.
"Every day, I grow stronger."
He reached for the hilt.
"And every day… I catch a glimpse of the strength he was hiding."
His right hand gripped the blade.
"That's why I abandoned my petty goals. My princehood. My plans."
He pulled. It did not budge.
"And made a promise."
Power surged through him.
A green aura flared across the altar, and for a heartbeat, the room was still.
Then—
SHINK.
He pulled.
The sword slid cleanly from the stone.
"To never be the weak again."
Kale exhaled once. Then looked down at the weapon, now resting calmly in his grasp. Light danced along the blackened steel.
He tilted it slightly.
On the side of the blade—barely visible, hidden until now—runes glimmered, arranging themselves into a set of words.
It read:
The Lion Slayer.
---
Catacombs Edge.
Sion sat on a rock by the edge of a small pond, Dara's head rested on his legs—she was fast asleep.
Sion watched her with curious eyes.
I am the Lion here, but I don't sleep as much as her.
A wry smile crossed his lips.
She really is beautiful.
His head suddenly snapped up.
His eyes burned golden unlike ever before, as an intense bloodlust flashed through them.
It was so intense that if any student currently in the Catacombs had crossed gaze with him at that point, they would die from the sheer killing intent.
But, it only lasted a second before he went back to normal.
Sion's brow creased.
"Huh."
Then, he shrugged and went back to watching Dara sleep.