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The morning sun spilled over the campus, its golden rays illuminating the pristine hallways of Blackbourne Academy. Students bustled about, chatting and laughing, but Lucien Falkner remained detached from the noise. His steps were measured, his posture as relaxed as ever, yet beneath his composed exterior, his mind was anything but calm.
Last night's attack still played in his head. The precision of the strikes, the way the enemy moved—it wasn't just some random assassin. They knew what they were doing.
Who sent them?
Why now?
And more importantly—was this just the beginning?
Lucien entered his classroom, taking his usual seat at the back. He barely paid attention as the teacher started the lesson. His senses were still sharp, scanning for any signs of irregularity.
Across the room, Evelyn Mercer stole a glance at him. She wasn't sure why, but something about Lucien felt… different today. A shift.
Lena leaned toward her, whispering, "Okay, is it just me, or does our resident silent assassin look like he's plotting world domination?"
Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Maybe he just didn't sleep well."
Ryan Caldwell, on the other hand, was more direct. As soon as class ended, he approached Lucien near his locker.
"You look off today," Ryan muttered, his voice just low enough that no one else could hear.
Lucien didn't even blink. "I'm fine."
"Yeah, no. I don't buy that." Ryan folded his arms. "Look, I know you don't do 'small talk,' but last night, when you were training me, you were… different. And today, you're—"
Lucien turned to face him, eyes sharp. "Drop it, Ryan."
Ryan held up his hands in surrender, but the curiosity in his eyes didn't fade. Something happened, and he knew it.
During lunch, Lucien excused himself and slipped into an empty hallway. He pulled out his phone, accessing a secure line only Vermilion Oath operatives could use.
He typed a single message:
"Confirm recent Red Fang activity."
A moment later, a reply came in. Short. Direct.
"They've been waiting. This is only the beginning."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. So last night wasn't a random strike. It was a calculated move. A warning? Or a test?
He needed to be ready.
Later that afternoon, Evelyn walked alone toward the main gate, her thoughts occupied with Ethan. He was back to normal, but something still felt off.
As she turned a corner, she suddenly froze.
A shadow moved at the edge of her vision.
She snapped her head toward it—nothing.
The hallway was empty, but the eerie sensation lingered. Her fingers curled slightly, a habit she developed whenever she felt uneasy.
Shrugging it off, she continued her walk, but the feeling of being watched never truly left her.
Night fell, and Lucien met Ryan at their usual training spot.
Ryan, despite his earlier curiosity, was fully focused on the lesson. He wiped sweat off his brow. "Alright, I've been practicing what you taught me. Tell me if this works."
He lunged forward—faster than before.
Lucien effortlessly dodged, sidestepping the attack. Ryan's movements were improving, but they were still sloppy. Too predictable.
Lucien's hand shot out, gripping Ryan's wrist mid-strike. In one swift motion, he twisted, sweeping Ryan's legs from beneath him.
Ryan hit the ground with a thud. "Ow—okay, yeah. That was dumb."
Lucien released him, stepping back. "You hesitate when you attack."
Ryan groaned. "Yeah, because you scare the hell out of me."
Lucien said nothing. Instead, he glanced around. That feeling again.
Someone was watching.
His stance remained relaxed, but his eyes flicked toward the rooftops. The presence wasn't obvious, but it was there. Hidden. Waiting.
On the rooftop above, a figure stood in the shadows, watching them.
The wind rustled their coat, but they didn't move, their gaze locked onto Lucien. A small, almost amused smile formed on their lips as they pulled out a phone and typed a message.
"Target confirmed. Phase Two begins."
They vanished into the night.
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End of Chapter 17.