Chapter 46: What Hides in the Shadows
The silence stretched — heavy, thick, almost alive.
Beneath the stone arches, the green glow of runes cast rippling reflections across the flooded floor. The air reeked of dampness and metal. A thin stream of water slid down the stairs, drop by drop, vanishing into a black pool where something still breathed.
Oratius moved forward without a sound. Chains hung from the ceiling, clinking softly in the unseen breeze.
Before him, the water stirred.
What emerged was not human.
The mass rose slowly — half liquid, half organic. Thin tentacles, slick as serpents, glided along its translucent torso. A vaguely humanoid shape: two arms, a chest, and a face with too many eyes, no symmetry, no expression.
A murmur seeped from its mouthless lips.
— "Oratius. You returned sooner than expected."
The voice had no direction. It vibrated everywhere at once, echoing inside the skull rather than the air. Oratius inclined his head, almost respectful, though his jaw tightened with nerves.
— "The experiment failed."
His tone snapped — dry, unflinching.
"The student lost control. He thought he could contain the parasite, but it consumed him instead. We stirred unnecessary doubts among the others. A mistake."
The tentacles twitched, tracing lazy circles across the water’s surface.
The entity’s tone remained calm — almost instructional.
— "I warned you. My children are not tools, but amplifiers. They bring out what their hosts bury deepest. Anger. Fear. Desire."
A pause. Then, softer: "To contain one, you need a heart that already knows restraint. Someone who has been swallowing their emotions for a long time."
Oratius nodded.
— "Understood. This time, I’ll choose the right host."
A smile — or something close to one — rippled across the creature’s face. All its eyes focused on him at once.
Then its body opened.
Not like a wound — like an offering.
A slit formed from sternum to abdomen, spilling green light.
The air thickened, buzzing with a wet, organic hum. Luminescent filaments, like open veins, pulsed beneath its translucent flesh. And at the center, something moved — an embryonic creature, curled tight, trembling.
The parasite.
Small. Slick. Covered in microscopic cilia writhing like a thousand tongues.
The entity plunged its hand into its own chest, tearing the thing out with excruciating slowness. A shriek — neither human nor beast — echoed as the fibers snapped. The creature, alive and twitching, dripped glowing lymph. It pulsed as if breathing through its skin.
Oratius extended his hands, unflinching.
The drops scorched his flesh, leaving red welts that smoked faintly. He didn’t move.
— "Take it," said the creature.
Its voice grew more insistent.
"Feed it emotions — but give it discipline as its heart. If it survives... you’ll have created the perfect monster."
Oratius carefully sealed the parasite inside a runic vial. The liquid within reacted instantly: the green glow swirled into gold, as if the creature was already trying to escape.
He tightened the lid with care. The vial pulsed between his fingers — alive.
He glanced up at the entity, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.
— "My thanks."
The monster inclined its head — or what passed for one.
— "Don’t thank me yet. What you create may outgrow even you."
Oratius stepped back. The black portal unfurled behind him, swallowing the dim light. His figure faded into the mist, leaving only his voice, echoing like a vow:
— "This time... it will survive."
Then he was gone.
The chamber fell silent again.
The water rippled once... twice... then went still.
Only a faint whisper remained — the parasite’s breath, trapped in glass, beating like a heart.
~
When I opened my eyes, light blinded me.
A soft white, warm and fluid, bathed the ceiling. The smell of alcohol, dried herbs, and cold stone hit me at once. The infirmary.
My throat was dry. My muscles ached, like they’d been torn apart and sewn back together.
I tried to move — but something held me down.
Something trembling.
Black hair. A narrow shoulder. A muffled sob.
Hikari.
Her fingers clutched my tunic, her body shaking with quiet cries. She wept against my chest, no longer hiding her fear or her shame. The heat of her tears seeped through the fabric, chilling me from within.
— "Hikari..." My voice came out hoarse. "I’m here."
She lifted her head, eyes swollen, cheeks wet. Relief and anger warred across her face.
— "Idiot... You could’ve died!"
I gave a faint smile.
— "I’ve had worse."
Mistake.
The slap came fast. Not hard — just sharp, precise, like a sentence delivered.
The sound cracked through the air.
Reina stood beside the bed, looking down at me. Her normally calm eyes burned with cold fury.
— "Shut up," she said, voice tight but controlled. "If Mother hadn’t had a bad feeling, you’d be dead right now."
I stayed silent. Even Hikari flinched, gripping my sleeve tighter.
I sank back into the pillow, biting back a curse.
Reina looked away, crossing her arms.
— "Idiot," she muttered.
Ayame stepped closer, resting a cool hand on my forehead. Her gaze was gentle but firm — that of a healer who didn’t tolerate excuses.
— "You still have a fever," she said. "Your body took more damage than it could handle. Even Hikari’s mana barely stabilized your flow. You need to rest, understood?"
I nodded, defeated. My gaze drifted to the back of the room. Miyu sat on a table, arms folded beneath her chest, pretending to look bored. The creak of her leather pants echoed faintly.
She met my eyes with that half-smile — somewhere between teasing and worry.
— "So, hero... planning to scare us like that again?"
— "If it gets your attention, maybe."
She rolled her eyes, though I saw the twitch at the corner of her lips.
— "Tch. Keep talking. You should be thanking Sylvara — she’s the one who saved your ass."
I blinked.
— "Sylvara?"
Reina cut in.
— "She held the creature off long enough for the Regent to arrive. Without her, you’d have died before Hikari even touched you."
I sat up slowly, the sheets sticking to my skin.
— "And... the student we fought?"
The silence that followed told me everything.
Ayame looked down.
— "He’s dead, Kaito."
My breath caught.
— "Dead... how?"
— "The princess and the headmistress said he was under the influence of something."
Reina’s tone darkened.
"A spell or substance that amplifies everything — strength, magic, emotions. Fear, rage, even pleasure. He lost control. The only way to stop him was to kill him."
I closed my eyes, jaw tightening.
A flash of his twisted face. His voice. The blackened mana around him.
— "And... do we know where it came from?"
Ayame and Reina exchanged a look. Reina finally spoke.
— "The investigation’s ongoing. But... there are suspicions of demonic interference."
I stared at the ceiling. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Demons. Always them. Even here, buried in the heart of the Academy, their claws found a way in.
Hikari pressed closer, her voice trembling but soft.
— "Then promise me... you won’t rush in alone again."
I smiled faintly.
— "Promise. Or... I’ll try, at least."
Miyu snorted.
— "Translation: he’ll do it again tomorrow."
— "Not tomorrow," Ayame said, standing. "Tomorrow, he sleeps."
She crossed her arms.
"Doctor’s orders. No arguments."
I raised my hands in mock surrender.
— "Yes, ma’am."
Laughter broke the tension at last. Even Reina cracked the smallest smile — a miracle in itself.
Their voices blended with the soft hum of healing crystals. Hikari’s warmth pressed against my side. Miyu and Ayame bickered playfully in the corner. Reina was already jotting notes for tomorrow’s report.
For a moment, it almost felt... normal.
After a while, they left. Silence settled again.
No laughter. No scolding. Only the whisper of sheets and the heartbeat of crystal light.
I sat there, watching the door close behind them.
Then I stood. Slowly.
My body creaked like rusted hinges. Every step hurt — but I kept moving, one hand on the wall.
The torches cast golden ripples along the damp stone.
Outside, the Academy courtyard was quiet. Too quiet.
When I reached my room, I pushed the door open.
The bed — a mess. The desk — buried in notes.
I sat down at the edge of the mattress, head in my hands.
For a moment, I wanted to just forget everything. To close my eyes and let the world spin without me.
But no. That’d be too easy.
Then the thought returned. Not a clear memory — just a spark. A dream I’d had before the attack:A place. A shared space. A guild where all races could train together — learn from each other, stop seeing one another as monsters.
It had seemed naïve then. Impossible. But now... I thought of Sylvara.
Of her golden eyes — fierce and honest — when she stepped between me and death.
And then another image surfaced.
A flash.
Those azure wings. Vast. Luminous. Alive with mana. They’d unfolded before me like a shield between heaven and the void. I still remembered the sound — half roar, half heartbeat.
The last thing I’d seen before I fell unconscious.
I opened my eyes again.
She’d proven it — that unity wasn’t a lie. Not a fantasy. Not a weakness.
I grabbed my quill, dipped it in ink, and wrote three simple words.
"The Azure Pact."
A name. A symbol. A place where every race could rise — not through domination, but through understanding. Fragile, imperfect... real.
I stared at those words for a long time, the weight in my chest finally easing. The silence felt softer — like the room itself approved.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
I looked up.
Again.
Knock. Knock.
I groaned, dragging myself to the door. My body still ached from the fight.
When I opened it — I froze.
— "Hikari?"
She stood there, hands clasped, eyes red from crying.
— "I... I couldn’t sleep," she whispered. "I was too worried."
Before I could speak, she stepped inside. The rune light slid across her hair, her pale neck. She moved slowly, like every breath cost her.
Then her gaze fell on the desk. On the parchment.
The Azure Pact.
Her expression shifted. Brow furrowed. Lips trembling.
— "You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?" she snapped.
"You’re thinking about that woman while I’m here — healing you, watching over you — and you write in her honor?!"
I raised my hands.
— "Wait, it’s not what you think—"
— "Not what I think?" She stepped closer.
"Since we got here, you’ve done nothing but look at her! You think I don’t notice?"
— "Hikari, you’re overreacting. There’s nothing—"
She didn’t answer.
A flash in her eyes — and before I could react, she moved.
A quick motion — my wrist caught, my balance gone.
I hit the floor, breathless.
She’d used an assassination technique. Something she’d learned in Duskfall.
A twist of her hips, a push on my shoulder — and I was pinned.
I tried to protest, but she leaned in. Her breath brushed my skin, warm and fast. Her fingers slipped behind my neck.
— "You’re mine, Kaito," she whispered.
I froze. Her scent — flowers and steel — filled my lungs.
Then, in one motion, she pulled open her kimono.
Two perfect breasts spilled free.
I cursed under my breath.
— "...Hikari."
— "Shut up!" she barked, crimson.
She pressed them against my face, almost smothering me. "Look at them! It’s all I have for you — and you’re looking at her?!"
And that’s when fate decided to make things worse.
Knock. Knock.
The blood drained from my face. Hikari froze.
— "Under the bed," I hissed.
— "What?!"
— "Now!"
She scrambled beneath it just as I steadied my breath and opened the door.
Miyu.
Her eyes flicked over me — maybe catching something in my expression.
— "...Am I interrupting?" she asked flatly.
I forced a smile.
— "Not at all. Come in."
She hesitated, then stepped inside. The door clicked shut.
Without a word, she sat on the edge of the bed — calm, distant. Her eyes drifted for a moment before locking onto mine again.
When she spoke, her voice was lower than usual. Rougher.
— "About last time..."
I swallowed hard.
Under the bed, something shifted — a muffled breath, tension coiled tight.
And this silence...tasted like a storm waiting to break.