The early morning mist wrapped Elysian Academy in a cold embrace, casting an ethereal glow upon its towering spires and vast training grounds. Jin stood quietly beneath a maple tree near the eastern field, the dew-damp grass chilling his feet through the thin soles of his shoes. His eyes, sharp and distant, watched the sky turn from slate to gold as the sun breached the horizon.
Every morning, he repeated the same pattern—waking earlier than most students, observing the flow of the academy, and mapping every corner in silence. Though his past lay buried beneath decades of discipline and solitude, instinct never faded. In this world that hadn't changed a second since he vanished, Jin now found everything unfamiliar. He was a relic out of time—one step behind and yet far ahead.
The academy had begun to stir. Instructors barked orders in the distance as groups of students gathered for their morning drills. The clash of practice weapons rang across the training field like a symphony of steel. But Jin wasn't watching them.
His focus was on the veil.
To the average person, the east field looked like any other—the perfect ground for sword training and elemental practice. But Jin had noticed a thin distortion in the air, like heatwaves rising from stone, pulsing with an ancient rhythm. A dormant dungeon gate.
Not just any gate—but one that wasn't supposed to exist.
"An E-rank veil… but the mana traces are all wrong," Jin muttered. "Something's feeding it from below."
He crouched, placing his hand against the ground. It was faint, but he could feel the pulse—deep, ancient, and unnatural. Someone was anchoring the gate from within the academy.
Later that afternoon, Jin sat alone in one of the observation towers, overlooking the dueling arena. The final stage of the entrance evaluations had begun—student-versus-student combat. He wasn't required to be there, but his instincts told him to watch.
Theo Ward stood in the center ring, his stance balanced, eyes fixed on his opponent—a young man named Kai Renwald, heir to the Renwald mercenary family. Renwald's techniques were brutish, overwhelming opponents with strength and speed. Theo, however, moved like water.
"Renwald fights like a storm," murmured a familiar voice behind Jin. It was Seraphina Albrecht, arms crossed as she joined him at the rail. "But even storms can be redirected."
"You've taken an interest in him?" Jin asked without turning.
"I observe potential. That includes you." Her words were casual, but her eyes searched him.
Below, Theo sidestepped a crushing blow and countered with a sharp elbow to Renwald's ribs, followed by a takedown. The crowd roared.
Jin's focus lingered. Theo's style—it wasn't identical to Lucas's, but the fluidity, the efficiency—it echoed pieces of what Jin had once taught. The disciple's legacy lived on, even without him.
That night, the veil broke.
A low hum echoed across the campus. Lights flickered. The distortion Jin had been observing for days finally unraveled. A rift opened on the eastern field, and with it, a scent of rot and old blood.
Monsters poured through. Low-tier at first—Crawler Wolves and Hollow Shades—but their numbers grew rapidly. Sirens blared. Students and instructors scrambled to form defensive units.
Jin didn't hesitate. He moved like lightning.
Blending into the chaos, he struck down a Crawler mid-leap, twisting his body and decapitating a Shade with a precise slash. His blade danced in silence, unlike the panicked shouts of students trying to hold their ground.
Theo arrived moments later with several high-ranking students. "We've got to hold the line until the instructors seal the gate!" he shouted.
Jin caught his eyes briefly. Theo froze—not from fear, but recognition. Not of a face, but of movement. That fighting style.
Then a roar shattered the sky.
A hulking mass tore through the veil—a mini-boss. Its body was plated in iron bark, its breath toxic. A Forest Juggernaut—far too strong for an E-rank gate.
"This isn't a regular dungeon," Jin muttered. "It's bait."
Theo and the others rushed to defend the courtyard, but their attacks barely pierced the creature's hide. One student was thrown like a ragdoll, blood spraying across the field.
Jin charged forward.
He moved faster than any eye could follow, sliding under the creature's swing and planting an explosive rune under its arm. With a short chant, it detonated, blowing away part of the Juggernaut's plating.
"Focus fire there!" he commanded, surprising everyone.
Theo didn't question it. With precise timing, he launched an energy lance directly into the exposed wound. The creature howled, staggered.
But it wasn't enough.
The Juggernaut roared again, its mana pulsing out in waves. The weaker students collapsed to their knees, clutching their heads.
Jin gritted his teeth. No more holding back.
He whispered a phrase in an ancient tongue—one no one should've known. Sigils glowed along his arm. His blade extended, enveloped in radiant energy. The air grew heavy.
He leapt.
A single strike—clean, brutal—sliced through the Juggernaut's neck. The beast fell.
Silence followed. The veil began to collapse behind it.
The field was ruined. Dozens were injured. But the gate was closed.
Jin landed softly, retracting the energy from his blade. Around him, stunned gazes fell in every direction. Whispers surged.
"Who is he…?"
"Did you see that strike?"
"That wasn't taught here…"
Theo stepped forward, breathing hard, sweat streaming down his brow. "You're no ordinary student."
Jin said nothing. Just turned and walked away, vanishing into the smoke.
Deep beneath the academy, in a sealed room lit only by floating crystals, Headmaster Vael stared at a flickering screen.
"He used the sigils," Vael whispered. "Just like thirty years ago…"
Another voice answered from the shadows. "He's back, isn't he?"
Vael nodded slowly. "The world will stir again. The embers have not gone cold. Not yet."