The silence of brilliance is often interrupted by the loudest mistakes.
Kael Ryuu wasn't in bed when the sun rose.
He was on the floor of his rune workshop, covered in soot, hair standing on end, gloves half-burned off, and parchments drifting around him like the aftermath of a magical war.
The walls were scorched, the floor cracked with residual arcane energy, and a once-elegant array now resembled a child's tantrum in ink and blood-ash.
He blinked, slowly sitting up. The hum of residual mana was still thick in the air.
He'd been trying to inscribe a delayed time-loop rune—a simple enough theory, one that would allow activation of layered enchantments with a built-in countdown. Except it wasn't simple. Not when he was threading unstable time runes with elemental sequences designed to self-regulate.
And certainly not simple when it exploded.
Again.
A burnt scroll fluttered past his face. Kael exhaled and coughed, a dark cloud escaping his lungs.
Then—
BAM.
The workshop door blasted open, slamming against the wall.
"Kael Ryuu!"
Master Illovar's voice cracked like thunder, followed closely by the stormy presence of the man himself. Robes of deep maroon fluttered behind him, etched in runes that glowed faintly as he stepped through the haze.
He paused.
Took one long look at the blackened walls, the floating embers, the stunned student lying on the floor...
And then sighed the sigh of a man who had been here far too many times.
"Time magic," he said flatly.
Kael looked up. "Only a delay rune this time, I swear."
"You activated six mana-sensitive barriers across the entire eastern wing."
"Does that mean the timer worked?"
Master Illovar pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do I look like I care about your theoretical success while half my workshop nearly combusted?"
Kael stood, brushing ash off his cloak. "Technically, it was only partial combustion."
Illovar gave him a look.
"I should lock this room and ban you from runecraft for a month."
"But—"
"But," Illovar interrupted, "you're the only one on campus who could even attempt that sequence, let alone come this close."
The old instructor looked around again. His gaze softened, just a little. There was admiration buried under the exhaustion. Or perhaps resignation.
"The palace hasn't named an Array Master in decades," he murmured. "And yet here you are, trying to blow yourself into one."
Kael tilted his head. "...Is that a compliment?"
"No. It's a warning."
Illovar turned and walked out. "Clean up. And no more explosions this week."
The door clicked shut.
Kael exhaled again and surveyed the damage. His workshop was a mess, but something about it felt oddly satisfying. A burnt edge of a parchment crumbled in his hand as he sat down, already sketching out revisions to the array.
That's when it happened.
A whisper.
Faint. Barely audible. But real.
"Soon."
He froze.
The room was silent. Empty.
But something deep within—something ancient and buried—stirred faintly.
He shook it off and returned to his notes. No time for paranoia.
The next phase of the tournament was approaching.
And Kael Ryuu wasn't about to be just another name on the roster.