The next morning arrived faster than I expected.
Despite the heavy thoughts lingering in my mind from last night—the crow's words echoing like a curse—I had no time to dwell on them. Today, all the students who won the trials had been summoned by none other than the Headmaster himself, Lanoh Jakartaye, for a formal breakfast.
That's what Dante had told me, anyway. And by the tone of his voice, it wasn't just breakfast—it was an event.
I stood before the full-length mirror in our shared room, adjusting the collar of the neatly pressed black suit they had given us. The fabric was soft, expensive, far too formal for a simple meal, which only made me more suspicious of what this breakfast really was.
Dante was already dressed, of course. Polished and composed, as if he was born wearing suits like this. He wasn't waiting for me—he was waiting for Zaden, who, to no surprise, was still fixing his hair with the same smug focus he used in combat.
After a few more dramatic sighs and last-minute mirror poses, Zaden finally declared himself ready. The three of us exited our room, stepping into the golden-lit hallway that led toward the dining wing.
Outside the large, intricately carved doors of the dining area stood the rest of the chosen students. Razah leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usual calm demeanor in place. Simyle stood beside him, talking quietly with Ayan, while Brendon was pacing lightly, clearly nervous. Serelith and Sarina stood at opposite sides—like fire and ice.
Serelith spotted me immediately.
"Finally, you're here." She said with a soft smile as she walked up and looped her arm through mine. "Let's go. The Headmaster is waiting for us."
I blinked, caught off guard by how casual and natural she made it look. Before I could even respond, I caught the sharp glance Sarina threw in our direction—followed by a dramatic roll of her eyes.
Excuse me?
My jaw clenched instinctively. She didn't even try to hide it.
But before I could dwell on it, the grand double doors opened with a soft creak, revealing the Headmaster seated at the far end of the long mahogany table. The room was bathed in warm morning light, filtering through the tall, stained-glass windows that depicted ancient symbols and mythical beasts.
Lanoh Jakartaye stood up as we entered, his white and gold robes flowing like waves with the movement. His presence demanded attention—regal, powerful, yet oddly calm.
"Welcome, dear children." He said warmly, spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Come, take a seat. Today is not just a celebration of your victory, but of the journey you're all about to embark on."
We moved quietly to the long table, each of us taking our places. The air was filled with a strange mix of formality and expectation, as if something more than breakfast waited behind those polished words.
And deep down, I knew…
This was only the beginning.
"Let's start eating." Headmaster Lanoh Jakartaye said, his voice calm but with that ever-present undercurrent of authority. He picked up his fork and took the first bite with practiced elegance.
That was our cue. The tension hanging in the air loosened just slightly as everyone around the table followed suit, metal clinking against porcelain, the scent of rich food filling the ornate room.
But the moment of peace didn't last.
"The upcoming tournament." The Headmaster began, his voice rising just enough to command attention. "Is not as easy as it may seem—unlike the trials you recently faced."
We froze mid-bite. Forks hovered. Eyes met across the table in silent unease.
Even Serelith's grip on her knife faltered for just a second.
He continued casually, almost too casually, chewing another bite before placing his fork down. His expression hardened. "I assume none of you have ever heard the real story of this tournament?"
There was a pause. A silent exchange of glances. Sarina raised an eyebrow, Zaden frowned. Dante didn't move, but I saw the subtle narrowing of his eyes.
What was he talking about?
"I suppose you haven't." He answered his own question, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting against the polished wood.
"Then allow me to share something... long buried."
The headmaster's gaze swept across all of us like a blade.
"Twenty-seven years ago, this very tournament was halted permanently. Not postponed. Not restructured. Stopped. The kind of stop that doesn't come from budget cuts or bad organization—but from fear."
A chill crawled down my spine. The others shifted in their seats, no longer pretending to eat.
"What happened?" Brendon asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lanoh clasped his hands in front of him.
"There was a student... a prodigy, brilliant in both martial and mana disciplines. No one could match him. But something inside him wasn't right. The further he advanced in the tournament, the more unstable he became. His power... it was unlike anything anyone had seen before. Not light, not shadow, not flame nor storm."
He paused.
And then said it.
"Gansovi."
The name hit me like a thunderclap.
I froze.
The same name Kael warned me about.
My fingers curled into my lap under the table. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
The others didn't recognize it—not yet. But I did.
"That name." Lanoh continued. "Should never be spoken lightly. It's not an element. It's not a spell. It's a force. A curse. Something that should never have belonged in the hands of a human. And yet, twenty-seven years ago, it resurfaced... and almost took the entire academy down with it."
He leaned back in his chair, the light from the stained-glass windows casting eerie shadows on his face.
"The student vanished after the final round. Some say he was taken. Others say he was consumed by the very power he used to win. We don't know. But what we do know is that the tournament was sealed off—and the incident erased from official records."
I swallowed hard.
So this tournament wasn't just a competition—it was a test. A stage where something dark had once awoken. And now… it was back.
And I was carrying a piece of it.