By noon, the Academy sky was an overcast, a sickly gray ceiling lowered as clouds settled like a hushed audience in anticipation.
The Combat Field Annex 3 had been emptied of souls and yet one name lingered on the assessment board.
Nclai Azrael.
He stood in the middle of the Combat Field, the hem of his coat swaying with whatever wind decided to blow at this moment, arms crossed.
The upper balconies weren't filled with only junior instructors. Nclai's peers came from every walk of martial tacticians to bloodline scholars. Among them stood Instructor Seros Venn, one of the few who had trained through inherited scripts and memory sequences passed down by a now-dead Sovereign.
Nclai did not look up.
He already felt their presence. Like cold spears in the air.
......
Lyra sat on the steps just behind the entry gate, legs drawn up, chin on her knees.
She watched him with the same expression she'd worn since the Codex had appeared. Curious. Half-worried. Half... something else.
When he glanced her way, she brightened immediately.
"You're really not gonna tell me anything?" she whispered. "Even if I ask super nicely?"
He didn't answer.
She tilted her head, cheeks puffing out. "I'll keep asking. And I'll keep poking. Or I can just come to your room every night and poke you until you give in."
He turned his head slightly, eyes on her from his periphery. "That sounds like a threat."
She playfully batted her lashes. "It's a very cute threat~"
......
Then Instructor Seros finally descended.
He was a tall drink of water. Too tall for his age, anyway. His washed-out crimson tattoos spiraled down to his forearms, he'd obviously completed a bloodline ritual.
"You're the Observation boy," he said.
Nclai didn't nod.
Seros pulled off his gloves.
"This won't be a duel. You don't need to win. Just survive."
That earned a chuckle from the balconies.
Nclai took one step forward.
"I'm not interested in surviving."
Seros's eyes narrowed.
......
Crimson Sovereign Protocol: Stable
Sync Ratio: 5.1%
Unlocked: System Interface, Partial Access Granted
...
Traits:
Bloodline Sensitivity (Passive)
^ Sanguine Reflex (Linked Sub-trait)
......
Seros didn't wait.
He moved without sound.
A moment on the edge - within reach.
He put his fist out, a test jab. This was not for damage, but for exactness. Nclai moved only a little.
Sanguine Reflex showed.
The bloodline memory pulled him.
He saw it, not Seros now. A phantom image lay over the figure. A blurred motion came from an old instinct.
He ducked.
Seros followed with a knee to the ribs.
This time, Nclai didn't dodge. He absorbed it. Skidded back, boots grinding the sigil-dust.
He spat blood. Wiped it away. Straightened.
"You're learning," Seros muttered.
He came again.
A flurry of precise strikes... joints, tendons, blind spots.
And again, the reflex answered.
Nclai wasn't fighting with skill. He was reacting with something older. Something buried deep in his blood.
Not mastery.
Instinct.
......
From above, Lyra leaned forward.
Her voice was low. Almost proud.
"That's my idiot."
She blinked, then flushed.
"I mean... not mine mine. But you know. I'd totally keep him."
A few girls nearby gave her amused looks. She stuck her tongue out. "What? He's mysterious. And he can dodge like... six moves in a row. I respect that."
......
Back in the ring, Seros finally slowed.
He nodded once.
"You're not normal."
Nclai exhaled, the warmth of blood trailing from his mouth.
"I'm not trying to be."
......
System Update: Reclassification in Review
Pending Tier: Crimson Class Candidate
Status: Awaiting instructor consensus
......
As Nclai left the field, Lyra ran up to him.
She made a heart with her hands.
He stared blankly at it.
"That's for you," she grinned. "If you keep ignoring me, I'm going to draw those all over your bed."
Nclai sighed.
"Do it and I'll lock the door."
She blinked. Then leaned in close. "You think that'll stop me?"
She winked and walked ahead.
He watched her go.
Then looked down at his hand.
It was still shaking.
But the blood inside wasn't afraid.
It was remembering what it was.
......