The open grounds of Astraeus Academy lay silent, tension thickening with every breath.
Students and professors stood at a distance, their murmurs hushed as they watched the confrontation unfold. Before them, two figures—General Aldren Valor and General Seraphina Kyros—stood rigid, their postures carefully composed, yet unable to suppress the invisible weight pressing upon them.
Opposite them stood Tirius Ashborn.
He had not moved since their descent, his stance utterly still, yet his presence alone was suffocating. They had come prepared for resistance, but standing before him now, the reality was far heavier than they had anticipated. The aura surrounding him was not one of mere strength but something far greater—an unshakable authority, an overwhelming presence that sent a primal warning through even their hardened instincts.
This was a man who could take them both on.
And they knew it.
Still, duty demanded they speak.
Aldren was the first to step forward, inclining his head just enough to maintain decorum. "Lord Ashborn," he greeted, his tone neutral, controlled. "We come here not as adversaries but as enforcers of our sworn duty."
Tirius remained silent.
Seraphina took the cue and continued, her voice smooth yet firm. "The Human Supreme Society exists to protect humanity from all threats—external and internal. We do not act out of personal will but from necessity."
Again, Tirius said nothing. His silence was suffocating.
Aldren's lips pressed together before he added, "We have reason to believe that young Lord NOX may be tainted."
The words hung in the air.
Tirius finally moved—his head tilting ever so slightly. The smallest motion, yet it sent a shiver down their spines.
"You have reason," Tirius repeated, his voice calm, yet beneath it lay something cold, something lethal. "And yet, I see no proof."
Seraphina met his gaze, choosing her words carefully. "This is not an accusation. It is an investigation. If the young lord has nothing to hide, then—"
"You dare suggest," Tirius cut in, his voice carrying the weight of restrained fury, "that I should allow my nephew—my youngest kin—to be subjected to such baseless scrutiny?"
Aldren did not falter. "The Dark Heaven Clan has long stood as one of the twelve ruling forces of our society. Its Patriarch is a Council Lord, bound by duty to uphold the balance of power. Even he would not overlook the necessity of an inquiry."
A slow exhale left Tirius' lips.
And then, he chuckled.
It was a quiet sound, one devoid of amusement.
"You invoke the Council," he murmured. "You speak of duty, of balance, as though you have not already made your decision."
Seraphina inhaled sharply. "This is not—"
"It is not an accusation?" Tirius cut her off again, his voice now laced with something darker. "Then what is it? A test of my patience? A proclamation of your intent?"
Aldren held his ground. "You misunderstand. The Society exists to prevent corruption, not to wage war against its own."
Tirius took a step forward. Gone was his usual lazy demeanor, gone was the bickering tone he maintained with NOX. In its place stood something colder, something sharpened through the corpses of his enemies. His aura never expanded beyond a few inches from his body, yet it pressed against them like an unseen force, smothering the air itself.
For the first time, the generals reacted—a shift in their stance, a tightening of their muscles.
"You speak of prevention," Tirius said, his voice quieter now, yet no less dangerous. "Yet I can smell the stench of greed in your every word."
Neither general spoke.
Tirius' gaze sharpened. "Do not mistake me for a fool. The Human Supreme Society has already prepared to move against the Dark Heaven Clan. This charade—this feigned concern—is merely the first step."
Aldren remained composed, but Seraphina's fingers twitched.
Silence stretched between them.
There was no need for denial.
Tirius saw through them too clearly.
Finally, Aldren sighed, his voice dropping in tone. "Lord Ashborn, whether you accept it or not, this investigation will proceed."
Tirius gave a slow nod. "Then let us not pretend this is anything other than what it is."
With a simple motion, he lifted his chin toward the vast sky above them.
"If you truly wish to press this matter," he said, "then we settle it where no innocents will be caught in the crossfire."
The generals exchanged a look.
They had stalled for as long as they could. Reinforcements were en route, but the risk of endangering students was too high.
Seraphina exhaled. "Very well."
Without another word, the two ascended, their figures vanishing into the expanse above.
Tirius lingered a moment longer, then turned to NOX.
NOX met Tirius' gaze through the blindfold covering his eyes, utterly unbothered by the storm raging behind the man's expression.
Astonishingly, there was no solemnity in the boy's demeanor—no fury, no urgency, no weight of the moment. Instead, a playful glint flickered across his golden irises, as though all of this—Generals descending, battle looming, history threatening to repeat itself—was nothing more than a mildly amusing spectacle.
Tirius' brow twitched.
"Even now, you're playing games?" he asked, disbelief lacing his voice.
NOX smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Oh? Is my dear guardian finally shedding his laziness?" His tone was light, teasing. "And here I thought you'd let them talk until the stars grew dim."
Tirius scoffed, folding his arms. "A lazy man doesn't become a legend, boy."
"Then what does?" NOX grinned. "A brute who solves everything with his fists?"
"Brute?" Tirius arched a brow, narrowing his eyes in mock offense. "I'll have you know, they call me the Dark Star of the Ashborns for a reason."
"A star burns brightest before it dies."
Tirius exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Remind me again why I bother protecting a mouth like yours."
NOX chuckled but said nothing.
This was the side of Tirius he had always known.
Their words, though sharp, carried no venom. It was a dance they had played many times before—a subtle language of familiarity, of trust. But NOX had long since accepted one truth—no matter how much he tried, he could never win their bragging tradition.
Because his Shadow Uncle only had two modes—either too lazy to bother with anything, or, if he wasn't lazy, bragging. And when it came to bragging, no one could best him.
Yet, when Tirius finally turned his gaze from NOX to the soldiers still lingering in the academy's open grounds, all warmth vanished.
A mere look.
That was all it took.
The air itself seemed to wither under the weight of it.
A choking, suffocating force pressed down upon the gathered troops—so potent, so lethal, that for a brief moment, life itself felt as though it would be stripped from their bodies. Some staggered, their knees nearly giving way. Others broke into a cold sweat, their instincts screaming at them to flee, to escape the crushing might that threatened to snuff them out like flickering flames.
Tirius had no intention of killing them—yet.
But the warning was clear.
If any of them made a move against NOX, he would not hesitate to turn that suffocating presence into reality. He did not need to say it aloud. They understood.
"Be careful," Tirius muttered, his voice softer now, though no less firm.
NOX shrugged. "Am I ever not?"
Tirius' expression darkened slightly at NOX's nonchalant demeanor, but he didn't press the matter further. He had no way of knowing what trump cards his nephew held to remain so carefree, but it didn't matter. He had already put countermeasures in place if NOX ever found himself in danger while he was occupied with the generals.
He sighed at his own fate as a guardian, feeling the weight of responsibility settle once more. However, beneath that weary acceptance, his eyes burned with fury. The Human Supreme Society had not only disturbed his lazy guardian duty but had forced him into action. More than that, they dared to act against his clan, using the excuse of devil eradication to justify their interference.
NOX, blindfolded, gazed at the vast starry expanse in the direction the two generals had flown. The usual playfulness in his demeanor faded as he spoke, his voice steady and absolute. "Shadow Uncle, I want them dead."
Tirius arched a brow at NOX's tone. Though he still could not fully reconcile this version of his nephew with the naive and mischievous boy he once knew, he met his gaze with a deep, scrutinizing look. "How badly do you want them dead?"
A sharp memory surfaced in NOX's mind. A battlefield drenched in blood. The scent of burning flesh. His sister's body, broken, cradled in his arms as the last traces of warmth faded from her skin. Another followed—his mother, shielding him with the last of her strength, sorrow filling her gaze rather than fear as she whispered her final words before a blade tore through her chest. Then another—his father, standing alone against an army, unyielding even as his body was riddled with wounds, until at last, he too fell.
One by one, the faces, the voices, the deaths resurfaced. His family. His bloodline. His past life, stolen away by the very forces that now stood before him under different banners.
The Human Supreme Society had taken everything from him.
And in this life, they would pay.
"Do not show mercy if they beg in the name of the Supreme Society. Do not falter if they claim they were only following orders. Do not hesitate, thinking this is not the Dharma Path we follow. The Society abandoned their Dharma long ago when they masked greed with justice and duty. Showing mercy now is the same as inviting our own destruction."
The air around him shifted.
For the first time since their conversation began, Tirius truly looked beyond the blindfold and saw what lay beneath.
Hatred. Boundless and unrelenting.
Madness, not in the form of reckless rage, but something far colder, far deeper. A force that coiled beneath the surface, warping the very space around him. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but even Tirius—a Rank 9 Awakener—could sense it as though it were an illusion barely out of reach.
Something within NOX was spiraling out, seeping into reality itself.
Tirius turned back to him, his expression unreadable.
NOX's voice did not waver. "End them. Every last one of them."
Tirius studied him for a long moment before exhaling a soft chuckle. "You really are your father's son."
A beat of silence passed before NOX's tone sharpened. "There's a third."
Tirius' amusement faded instantly. "Explain."
"A third Rank 9 Awakener is hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike."
Tirius hummed in acknowledgment, treating the revelation as little more than a mild inconvenience. "So three against one."
NOX's lips curled slightly. "You worried?"
Tirius let out a short laugh. "Boy, do you know who I am?"
NOX raised a brow, waiting for his Shadow Uncle to brag.
Tirius' smirk deepened. "I am the Dark Star of the Ashborns. The man who tore through battlefields. The one who crushed sects that thought themselves untouchable. Do you think three are enough?"
NOX exhaled through his nose, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Just don't let me down."
Tirius turned away, his form already flickering with raw power as he prepared to ascend. "Watch closely, boy. I'll show you why legends don't die so easily."
And with that, he ascended—toward the battlefield, where death awaited. And where death would be given.