The road back to the academy was long, but it no longer felt dangerous.
The mist that had once choked the landscape had dispersed. The forests they passed now seemed almost mundane—just trees, not ambushes waiting to unfold. Even the air carried the scent of renewal, not blood.
They walked.Just tired feet dragging along uneven paths and aching backs burdened by supplies, bruises, and unspoken thoughts.
The air was lighter now. The lingering dread that once choked the forest paths had faded. It was as if nature itself had exhaled. Birds returned to the trees. Wind moved through branches without whispering threats.
But the silence within the group was heavy.
Kellan limped quietly near the rear, his steps deliberate. Mira walked beside him, not offering support unless he stumbled. He wouldn't accept help unless absolutely necessary. His pride ran deeper than the wounds on his body.
Ryn led the way, eyes alert, mind quiet. Every so often he glanced back, as if expecting someone—or something—to appear behind them. The encounter with Vorn had changed him. He had tasted the razor edge of death, and the quiet presence of a mysterious boy who vanished without a trace still haunted his thoughts.
Tharic, ever the talkative one, remained silent for most of the journey. Only when the academy's spires broke through the distant mist did he finally speak.
"I'm telling you," he said, his voice cracking from disuse, "we're going to be welcomed like legends. You saw what happened. Vorn Sablemist was a Rank four Engraving Master. And we survived. That's got to count for something."
Ryn didn't respond.
Mira snorted. "You think the academy will throw us a feast?"
Tharic grinned. "Why not? Kellan fought Vorn head-on. We won, and we all had a role in this victory.. We all made it out. If that's not worth recognition, what is?"
Even Kellan gave a small nod of agreement. "We accomplished something few teams could."
But as they neared the outer edges of the city that surrounded the academy, something felt... wrong.
The streets weren't empty. They were alive with chatter, motion, and noise. But none of it was for them.
They passed vendors, students, travelers—and everywhere, voices overlapped in excitement.
"…defeated a Rank Three engraving master, can you believe it? A second-rank student!"
"…and alone, too. Didn't even have help a team."
"…used forbidden techniques, they say. A rune that's not part of any known branch…"
"…Elias. That's his name. I heard even Academy Leader took personal notice…"
Tharic slowed to a stop, panting slightly. "Wait… what are they talking about?"
They passed a cluster of younger students gathered around a street poster nailed to a wooden board. The words were messy but legible:
> " Academy Student 'Elias' vs 'Alcheran' — A rogue engraving master who has a bounty on his head.
Outcome: Victory."
"Elias: Rank Two during the battle."
"Confirmed Witnesses: Three."
Someone had even sketched a rough likeness of Elias, his figure cloaked in shadow, one arm extended mid-attack.
Mira read aloud, almost disbelieving: "He fought a Rank Three? Alone?"
Ryn stepped forward and scanned the board. The name Elias was burned into the parchment, bold and deliberate.
"They're not talking about Vorn," he murmured. "They're not even talking about us."
"…while we were in the forest," Tharic muttered. "While Kellan nearly died… Elias was here. Becoming a legend."
Kellan's footsteps came to a slow stop behind them. He stood still, head tilted slightly, his one good eye narrowed.
By the time they reached the outer gates of the academy, the realization had settled into each of them like a weight across the shoulders.
The guards barely acknowledged them. One of the academy's messengers paused, recognized Kellan's blood-stained coat… and then simply moved on.
Inside, students gathered in corners, discussing the same thing again and again.
"Did you hear how he killed the bandit?"
"They say he triggered a spiritual core implosion inside the man's heart!"
"No… no, that's not right. He used some abyssal engraving—they're forbidden now, but the elders didn't punish him…"
Tharic's jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Mira looked toward him, expecting some retort—but he only kept walking, one slow step after another.
They returned to their dormitory—a shared space of rough stone and worn furniture—and once the door shut behind them, Tharic finally broke.
"This is insane. We almost died out there."
"No one saw it," Mira said simply. "That's all that matters."
"We were in the dark," Ryn added, voice low. "Elias was in the light."
Kellan sat down slowly, arms resting on his knees. "Elias..."
His lips barely moved. His eye gleamed—not with resentment, but thought.
"He changed while we were gone. Not just his strength. His presence. I can feel it in the air."
"You think he really fought a Rank Three alone?" Mira asked, skeptical.
"If he didn't," Kellan said, "the academy wouldn't be whispering his name."
* * * * * *
That night, Ryn stood by the window.
He could hear the echoes of laughter from the courtyard—students celebrating Elias's victory. Ryn looked up toward the moon, distant and cold.
"We survived the storm," he whispered. "But now… the winds belong to someone else."
Far away, in a sealed meditation chamber layered with runes, a youth sat alone in silence.
Elias opened his eyes.
No celebration. No joy. Just silence.
He had ascended—but not above consequence.
Outside the room, the world whispered his name. But within, his thoughts were on something else.
The vision shown by the Coin of Destiny. And the darkness he had touched when his spiritual sea cracked open during battle.
Power had a price. And he had paid only the first coin.