The air outside Crimson Academy was thick with excitement, a symphony of voices filling the sprawling campus as students reunited after their semester break. The warm golden light of the afternoon sun bathed the towering academy walls, its rays glinting off the polished stone pathways and the intricate golden trims of the school's signature crimson uniforms.
Hover buses and personal essence-powered carriages lined the grand entrance, each arrival unloading eager students, their arms weighed down with luggage and their minds buzzing with anticipation for the semester ahead. The academy's main courtyard, typically a place of quiet study, had transformed into a bustling hub of activity.
Laughter echoed as groups of students huddled together, excitedly exchanging stories about their break, their latest breakthroughs in cultivation, and gossip about new arrivals and departures in their dorm rooms. The scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the tantalizing aroma of the academy's dining hall, where staff had already begun preparations for the first official meal of the term.
At the main gate, a tight-knit circle of students stood in animated conversation.
"I swear, my old man nearly had a heart attack when I told him I reached Mid Rank 1 over the break," boasted a boy with messy brown hair, puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride. "He kept saying, 'Taro, you need to slow down! Your essence core might crack!'"
"Pfft, as if! My sister in Room A made it to Mid Rank 1, and now she won't stop lording it over me," a girl with short blue hair groaned, adjusting her satchel. "I swear, I have to at least be able to subconsciously channel my essence outside this semester, or she's never going to let me hear the end of it."
"You guys are lucky," another student chimed in with a defeated sigh. "I barely scraped by on the End-of-Semester Evaluation. I nearly broke my core trying to cultivate too fast. Good thing I'm in Room C, our only real requirement last semester was learning to properly channel essence through our seven points."
More students poured through the academy gates, some dragging massive essence-inscribed luggage, others gliding smoothly on hoverboards, weaving effortlessly between their classmates. Some younger students, first-years, whispered nervously among themselves, their eyes darting around as they processed the energy of the school.
"Did you hear? Some people got promoted into our Room B from Room C!"
"That also means some people got demoted from Room A to Room B," another first-year muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "I guess that just means things are going to be crowded this semester."
Before the nervous murmurs could continue, a booming voice interrupted the chatter.
"Logan, my guy!"
A massive figure lunged forward, an arm locking around Logan's neck in a playful headlock.
"J-Jay! Let me breathe!" Logan gasped, struggling to break free from Jay's iron grip.
"Come on, Jay, don't suffocate the guy before we even start the semester," Roy's voice came from behind, stepping off his hover bike just as it seamlessly transformed into a sleek silver bracelet around his wrist.
Jay loosened his grip and turned toward Roy, his bright eyes lighting up.
"Ah, the star boy is here at last! This semester, I won't let you leave me in the dust again!" he declared, punching Roy's shoulder in excitement.
Roy took a dramatic step back, brushing the wrinkles out of his crimson blazer, before flashing a grin and winking at a group of watching female students.
"Careful with the fit, Jay. You know I've got an image to maintain," he teased, throwing a mock kiss toward the giggling onlookers.
A sharp voice cut through the playful atmosphere.
"Must be nice, huh? Being both good-looking and talented. Not all of us can relate."
Turning, Roy spotted Melissa, casually pulling her luggage along beside her, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. June walked beside her, chuckling.
Roy turned to her with a playful glint in his eye.
"Oh, come on, Melissa. You of all people should know exactly what it's like to be blessed." He winked at her.
Melissa's smirk instantly dropped, replaced by a look of pure disgust.
"Please. Never wink at me again."
June, caught in the middle, quickly stepped forward.
"Alright, guys, new semester, fresh start. Let's not start fighting on day one—there will be plenty of time to tear each other apart later," she joked, stepping between the two.
Roy let out a chuckle, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation.
"That reminds me…" June continued, tilting her head. "I don't see a certain serious-faced someone with you today."
Roy raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused—until it clicked.
"Oh, Den?" he asked, his casual smile tightening slightly. "Well, he had some personal issues to deal with. He'll be back once everything settles down."
He had memorized the perfect response, drilled into him by Kara, ensuring that he wouldn't let anything slip about Denwen's suspension and his entanglement with the enforcement agency. It was all going according to plan—until a familiar and unwelcome voice cut through the conversation.
"Personal issues? Or should I say criminal issues?"
The group stiffened.
Turning slowly, Roy met the smug, self-satisfied face of Angus, standing with his arms folded, enjoying every second of the attention he had just stolen.
Roy felt his heartbeat quicken, his palm slightly damp. He knew this would happen eventually, but not so soon.
"Well," Angus continued, his grin widening, "why don't you tell them, Roy? Tell them what kind of criminal your friend really is."
The atmosphere shifted, the previous lightheartedness sucked away like air from a vacuum. All eyes turned toward Roy, their curiosity quickly morphing into concern.
"Roy…" June's voice was softer, more cautious. "What happened to him?"
Roy forced himself to remain calm, but his fingers clenched slightly at his sides. Damn it.
Angus simply stood there, waiting, his satisfied smirk deepening.
Roy was trapped.
---
The quiet hum of Crimson Academy's medical wing was eerily tranquil, a stark contrast to the bustling excitement filling the rest of the campus. Inside a small, dimly lit office, the sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly conjured essence.
At the center of the room, Kara sat at a sturdy oak table, her face a mask of determination, lips pressed tightly together as beads of sweat formed on her brow. The tips of her slender fingers glowed a faint green, delicate wisps of essence weaving like threads between her hands and the small, still-writhing fish laid out before her.
The creature's underbelly had been sliced open, a deep and fatal wound exposing the fragile organs within. Its gills flared weakly, its final moments slipping away as it twitched feebly under her trembling touch.
Across the room, Professor Seraphis Alden, Kara's instructor and academy's most renowned Healing Mage, leaned against her desk with her arms folded, watching with an impassive expression. The faint glow of the overhead mana-lamps reflected off her round glasses, concealing the sharp scrutiny in her gaze.
Kara gritted her teeth, her focus narrowing as she pushed more of her essence into the spell. The wound responded—slowly knitting together, the flesh attempting to reform. Encouraged by the progress, she increased the flow, pouring more energy into the fish in an attempt to accelerate the process.
Seraphis's sharp eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Kara didn't notice.
She only saw the wound closing faster, the shimmering green essence mending torn muscle and fragile skin. The momentary glow of success filled her chest.
Then—
A strange swelling rippled across the fish's body.
Kara's stomach twisted in alarm.
The once-faint glow intensified, spreading rapidly across the fish's form, the flesh around the wound bulging unnaturally. It twitched violently, its body convulsing as if being inflated from the inside.
Kara's eyes widened. No. No, no, no.
The green glow flared too bright, the fish's body expanding grotesquely—then, with a sickening POP, it exploded.
Bits of flesh and viscera splattered across the room in a sudden burst, wet chunks landing on Kara's face, streaking her cheeks, her forehead, her robes. A warm, slimy glob slid down the side of her nose.
Across from her, Professor Seraphis remained completely untouched, a thin mana shield shimmering faintly around her. She hadn't even flinched.
A long, heavy silence filled the room.
Kara's shoulders slumped in defeat, her hands falling into her lap as she clenched her jaw.
Seraphis sighed, adjusting her glasses as she finally spoke.
"Well," she said, unfazed, "that's another dead patient."
Kara groaned, covering her face with both hands.