Grand Arcanum Academy –
The atmosphere in the nacromancy Lecture Hall remained tense after Morganna's display. The flickering torches barely illuminated the chamber, and an unsettling silence hung in the air.
The Abyssal Crystal still pulsed ominously on its pedestal, as if hungry for more.
Victor Graves' smirk hadn't faded. He gestured lazily toward the remaining students.
"Well? I assume the rest of you aren't afraid?"
He let his words hang, watching as students hesitated.
And then—
Other students steped forward.
But only some got little reactions.
For others crystal didn't react.
Not even for main cast.
Then.
The Vampire Twins stepped forward.
There was no hesitation. No reluctance.
Lunara and Veylen Nightshade moved with absolute confidence, the air around them thick with aristocratic grace and quiet menace.
Lunara, her crimson eyes gleaming, placed her slender fingers on the crystal first.
The reaction was instant.
The torches dimmed, their eerie blue flames shifting into a deep blood-red.
The crystal quivered, the darkness swirling around her like a lover's embrace. A faint sound—like a distant heartbeat—echoed through the room.
Lunara's lips curled into a slow, sultry smile.
"How delightful," she murmured.
Victor raised an eyebrow. "A natural affinity for Soul Manipulation, I see."
Lunara giggled, a soft and dangerous sound. "Of course. The soul is the most… delicate thing to play with."
She released the crystal, her fingers trailing over its surface as if it were a lover's skin.
Then—
Veylen placed his hand on it.
The shift was subtle—yet infinitely more chilling.
The crystal's glow flickered violently, and for the briefest moment—
A scream echoed.
It wasn't from any student. It wasn't even from within the room.
It was a sound that seemed to come from the void itself—a soul, wrenched apart, crying out into nothingness.
Then, as quickly as it came, it vanished.
The crystal stabilized, now radiating a soft, pulsating black light.
Veylen simply smiled—a calm, knowing smile that held none of his sister's playful theatrics.
Victor chuckled, but there was a hint of wariness in his expression.
"A silent reaper, are you?"
Veylen bowed slightly, his silver hair falling over his sharp features. "I prefer efficiency over theatrics."
Victor's smirk widened. "Fitting."
He glanced at both twins. "You both have a natural gift for Soul Manipulation. Use it wisely."
Lunara leaned toward her brother, whispering in a voice just loud enough for others to hear.
"How amusing," she purred. "I wonder whose soul I should play with first?"
Students shuddered.
Veylen merely sighed. "Try not to break them too quickly, dear sister."
And with that, they stepped back.
But the room was forever changed.
****
Cassandra Everwyn approached next, her raven-black hair cascading over her shoulders, violet eyes burning with quiet defiance.
Unlike the others, she didn't hesitate.
She slammed her hand onto the crystal.
For a moment—nothing happened.
Then—
A sudden crack split the air.
The torches flared violently, their blue flames turning into a chaotic mix of red and black. The crystal itself began to shake, as if resisting something.
The entire room trembled.
Cassandra clenched her jaw, her fingers gripping the stone harder. Her breath came sharply, her body tensed.
And then—
BOOM.
A violent shockwave of black and crimson energy erupted from the crystal, sending a gust of mana through the chamber. The torches flickered dangerously, the very air vibrating with unseen forces.
Some students stumbled back.
Victor's eyes narrowed.
"A dual resonance?" he muttered, intrigued.
The crystal stabilized, now pulsing in a way that was different from Morganna's or the Nightshade twins'. It was unstable, as if caught between two opposing forces.
Cassandra finally pulled her hand away, panting slightly.
Victor studied her carefully. "You are… unusual."
Cassandra lifted her head, her violet eyes burning. "What does it mean?"
Victor's smirk returned. "It means you have the potential for both Soul Manipulation and nacromancy"
Gasps echoed through the room.
Cassandra stiffened.
Victor's gaze sharpened. "You walk the line between control and destruction. The question is… which side will claim you first?"
Cassandra didn't respond.
She turned and walked back to her place, her mind racing.
The room grew tense as the final student stepped forward.
Alistair.
Unlike the others, he approached the Abyssal Crystal with no hesitation.
No wariness.
No fear.
For a moment, Victor simply observed him, intrigued.
Alistair placed his hand on the crystal.
Silence.
The room held its breath.
Then—
The torches died.
Darkness consumed the entire room.
The only light that remained… was the crystal.
And it was shaking violently.
A low, inhuman whisper slithered through the chamber.
Not like the scream Veylen had caused.
Not like the murmurs that had surrounded Morganna.
This whisper was deeper.
Older.
It wasn't the voice of the dead.
It was something worse.
Something forgotten.
The torches flickered back to life.
The crystal stopped shaking.
And then—
It shattered.
The entire class froze.
Victor Graves' smirk was gone.
The Abyssal Crystal, an artifact designed to measure necromantic affinity, now lay in ruins—black shards scattered across the altar.
Victor took a step forward, his expression unreadable.
"…Interesting."
Alistair pulled his hand back, glancing at the fragments.
His black eyes met Victor's.
"Was that supposed to happen?"
Victor exhaled slowly.
"No."
Silence.
Then—
Victor's smirk returned, wider than before.
"Well, well," he murmured. "It seems you, Vaelthorne, are not meant for any path, your mana abyssal do not posses nacromancy affinity. Instead your mana like a swamp trying to devour"
He gestured to the broken remains of the crystal.
"Whatever you are… it does not fit within the boundaries of necromancy."
The entire class stared.
Some in fear.
Some in awe.
Some in confusion.
Victor chuckled. "How fascinating."
Then, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the display.
"Well then." His voice returned to its usual, lazy amusement.
"It seems we have many promising students this year."
He turned toward the rest of the class.
"Lesson dismissed."
The tension remained thick as the students began to filter out, whispering among themselves.
But even as they left—
The shattered crystal remained.
A silent warning.
(To Be Continued...)