The aftermath of the Labyrinth Trial should have brought rest.
It didn't.
Classes resumed within a day. Velmora Academy didn't pause for trauma. Weakness was expected—but not tolerated.
Ash walked into his first class in the Tower of Soulweaving wearing black. Not as a statement, but because magic clung better to blood-colored cloth.
Inside, students quieted the moment he entered. Eyes followed him—not with admiration, but fear. Rumors had already spread.
Crimson King.
Kaelith Reborn.
Labyrinth Reaper.
Ash ignored them all.
The instructor was an ancient elf with no left arm and no patience—Professor Malen Draith, once Archmage of the Southern Reaches. Now a teacher worn thin by time.
He pointed to the center arena.
"New boy. You. Duel. Now."
Ash blinked. "Me?"
A girl stepped forward before Ash could move.
Tall. Cold-eyed. Silver hair in braids. Her presence made the other students step back instinctively.
"I challenge him."
Her name was Rhiessa Luneblade. Royal blood. Ranked number one among first-years. A prodigy.
Ash tilted his head.
"You sure?"
Her voice was cold. "You're a danger to this academy. If you're as strong as they say, you'll win. If not—you die."
Malen nodded. "Let it begin."
---
The duel circle sealed with runes.
Rhiessa struck first—binding magic, blood ice, and spirit flame all layered into a single, devastating spiral.
Ash didn't counter.
He watched.
Then, just before impact—he snapped his fingers.
Her spell unraveled like thread. Collapsed midair. She gasped, stumbling.
Ash didn't move.
"You cast like a scholar," he said calmly. "Pretty, precise, and predictable."
She growled. "Say that again."
"I said—"
In a flash, she struck again—this time aiming to kill.
Ash flicked his wrist.
Her sword shattered in midair.
And then his voice dropped, laced with something deeper. Older.
> "Kneel."
Crimson magic surged. Her legs buckled involuntarily—her will overpowered, not by force, but by dominion.
She fell to her knees, eyes wide.
Ash stepped close, leaned in.
> "If you want to kill me, Rhiessa… don't challenge me like a noble. Hunt me like a monster."
He walked away, the room dead silent.
---
That night, in a hidden chamber, a council gathered.
Twelve robed figures. Some with crowns. Others with halos. All powerful.
The Grand Seer spoke:
> "Kaelith has returned."
A king slammed his fist on the table. "You said he was dead!"
"He was. Now he's something else."
A woman in golden robes whispered, "If he unlocks Primordial Arcana again… the world fractures."
Silence.
Then the oldest among them said:
> "Then we kill him. This time… permanently."
---