đ The Song Begins
The bells didn't ring.
There was no warning. No formal announcement. Just the soft tolling of wind chimes on a windless night â and the faint hum of something ancient crawling through the sky.
Rael felt it first.
He sat cross-legged on the roof of the dormitory, sipping weak tea and pretending not to glow slightly under his robes.
Then the sky turned black.
> "Well," he muttered. "There goes the peaceful phase of this reincarnation."
Above the academy, twelve black-feathered seraphs spiraled in silence. Their wings didn't beat. They simply hovered, unmoving â like puppets held up by invisible strings.
Students below began screaming.
Rael, still calm, took another sip. "Bit early for divine retribution. Thought I had at least a week."
A second later, a divine spear of white fire slammed into the ground, right where Rael had been sitting.
---
đ„ Assassins in Holy Robes
He flipped backward mid-air, landed on the chimney, and smiled grimly.
"Rude," he said.
From the shadows below, three figures in choir robes leapt into view â each wearing porcelain masks and wielding blessed steel. The Black Choir â divine enforcers known to "erase anomalies."
They didn't speak.
The middle one simply raised a hand and launched a volley of blades made from pure hymnstone.
Rael didn't move.
Instead, a circle of burning runes flared around him â a defensive seal, anchored into the air itself.
The hymn blades hit the barrier and dissolved like soap in acid.
Fayden, watching from below in horror, shouted:
> "What in flaming goat hell is going on!?"
Rael glanced down.
> "Assassination attempt. Possibly religious. Definitely annoying."
---
âïž Fire vs Choir
The attackers came fast â one from the left, one from above, one trying to flank with a spellblade.
Rael side-stepped all three, cloak flaring behind him like smoke.
Then he raised a single finger.
> "Burn."
The sky above cracked with red lightning.
From nothing, a serpent of flame burst outward â not fully formed, but enough. It circled the rooftop and slammed into the nearest assassin, hurling him across the courtyard and into a statue of Headmaster Valric.
The statue lost its nose.
The assassin lost consciousness.
Two more advanced.
Rael grinned.
> "I've been restraining myself. You shouldn't have encouraged me."
He stepped forward, boot striking a floating sigil, and teleported behind the second assassin mid-swing. Before the choir knight could react, Rael whispered:
> "Ever danced with your nightmares?"
He pressed two fingers to the knight's neck.
The man collapsed, screaming â mentally plunged into a spellscape made of his worst fears.
Only one left.
---
đ± The Final One Speaks
The last choir assassin hesitated.
Rael raised a brow. "Not joining them?"
The figure stepped back.
Then â it spoke.
"You are not supposed to exist. You died. The gods decreed it."
Rael tilted his head. "I've heard worse decrees. 'No dessert after midnight' still stings."
The assassin's voice cracked with fear. "You're not just flame⊠You're the thing the flame was meant to burn away."
Rael's eyes burned faintly.
"Correct."
Then the flame serpent surged again â its body spiraling into the air, this time more complete, with glowing ember eyes and crackling bone-plate armor forming along its body.
It roared.
The final assassin tried to flee â only to be caught in a ring of fire and exploded mid-air.
Rael sighed. "I told them to come quietly."
---
đ©ž Divine Fallout
The battle lasted three minutes.
The aftermath? Far longer.
Master Veylor was the first to arrive at the rooftop, eyes blazing. Behind him came instructors, spellcasters, wardens, even Lady Sireya herself.
She looked at the craters.
The melted hymnstone.
The three unconscious (or worse) bodies of holy choir knights.
Then she looked at Rael â standing calm, cloak flickering, sipping lukewarm tea from a cracked cup.
> "You defied a divine order," she said coldly.
Rael met her gaze.
> "No. I survived it."
"You should not be here."
"Neither should hypocrites with god complexes."
> "You've unsealed something that should remain buried."
Rael stepped forward.
"No. I am what was buried."
"And now," he added, voice sharper, "I intend to burn the roots that tried to strangle me."
---
đ Twist: The Choir Knew His Name
As the injured choir knights were dragged away, one of them whispered, barely conscious:
> "The Uncrowned⊠has returnedâŠ"
Lady Sireya froze.
Rael raised a brow. "So we're using the name now? I was hoping for something with a little more flair."
"Enough games," she snapped.
"Hardly a game." He turned away. "This was a warning shot. If they'd wanted me dead, they would've sent the White Choir."
He stopped just at the edge of the roof.
> "Next time, they will."
---
đïž Back in the Dorms
Fayden paced the room. "You fought what?"
Rael peeled off his robe, still warm with power. "A divine choir."
"Is that some kind of elite musical cult?"
"Yes. Very stabby. Off-key."
"You made a giant flame serpent, Rael. Half the school saw it!"
Rael shrugged. "We'll say it was an illusion."
"Illusions don't explode statues!"
Rael sat on his bed, eyes dark with thought.
> They know now. The gods know. Sireya knows.
And his power was no longer just theory. It had moved. Burned. Lived.
He closed his hand â the ember sigil flaring across his palm like a sleeping crown.
> One down. Eleven gods to go.
---
đ Epilogue: A Decree From On High
In the Divine Sanctum, eleven thrones stood silent.
A hooded figure approached the central flame.
> "The Uncrowned has re-emerged. The fire has broken its leash."
The voice that responded was cold.
> "Then call the Lightless War Protocol."
> "Begin the purge."
---
đ„ End of Chapter 8