The crowd backed away instinctively. Even the more seasoned students flinched under the sheer pressure spilling from Kyle's body. It was like standing before a wild beast—not just dangerous, but ancient, primal, and angry.
"Kyle?" Professor Owl called out carefully, one hand drifting toward the wand at his waist. "Can you hear me?"
No response.
Kyle's eyes were glazed, shadowed with crimson veins pulsing like threads of mana gone rogue. His burnt skin shimmered faintly—not with healing, but with something darker. His aura, once calm and muddled, now throbbed in violent waves.
Alex Mordain took a step back. "What… what is this?"
Kyle's feet moved.
A blur.
He was in front of Alex before the senior could raise his wand. The dagger—now crackling with residual magic—stopped an inch from Alex's throat.
Professor Owl moved. The air bent as he cast a restraining sigil directly over Kyle's position.
"Null Field!" A spell without an element, made to entrap anything as long as the caster was strong enough.
The sigil pulsed like a seal. For a moment, Kyle's body froze mid-strike. His blunt dagger, sharpened by mana, clattered to the ground.
Then he shuddered—the bloodlust snapping like a brittle thread.
His knees gave out, and he collapsed, for good this time.
Owl was there instantly, catching him.
"Clear the arena!" he barked. "Now!"
The students obeyed without hesitation. The tension lifted only slightly as the crowd scattered—whispering, theorizing, fearing.
Alex stood frozen, eyes wide. He hadn't seen death so close before—not like that. He dropped his second wand.
"I—"
"Save it," Owl snapped, hoisting Kyle into his arms. "You'll answer for this in the disciplinary hall. Both of you may have broken rules today, but only one of you tried to kill."
"I didn't know he'd—!"
"Enough!"
Owl vanished with Kyle in a blink of light and pressure, leaving only scorched stone and silence behind.
___
Later, in the infirmary…
Kyle awoke to the sterile scent of mana-infused ointments and white sheets. His torso ached, his skin bandaged and faintly glowing with restoration runes.
He blinked.
Mirai sat beside the bed, her arms crossed, eyes puffy but alert.
"You're awake," she said quietly.
Kyle tried to sit up. Pain lanced through him.
"Don't," she added, rising to push him gently back down. "The healers said you need rest. You burned... bad."
He looked away. "Did I hurt anyone?"
Mirai hesitated. "No. But you could have. What the hell was that, Kyle?"
He closed his eyes. "I don't know. I haven't…"He trailed off, remembering the day he slaughtered the boar.
"You don't remember?"
"I do... but it's fuzzy. Like I was watching from underwater. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't."
She didn't speak for a long moment. Then, softly:"That wasn't just anger. That was something mages call mana corruption. Void-linked rage—chaotic energy."
Kyle's breath caught. "Are you saying I'm cursed?"
"No," Mirai said gently. "I'm saying something inside you responded to that fire with darkness. And you need to find out why before it happens again."
Footsteps interrupted them. Professor Iskra entered the room, her face impassive, but her eyes—calculating.
"So; You survived."
"Barely," Kyle muttered.
"Don't be dramatic. Your body was resilient enough. That's not what concerns me."
Mirai stood but didn't leave. Iskra gave her a nod of silent approval.
"What does concern you?" Kyle asked.
"Everything that happened after Mordain burned you. The mana burst that followed."She stepped closer. "You weren't channeling just your own magic, were you?"
Kyle's silence said enough.
Iskra's eyes narrowed. "We'll talk more in our next session. For now, focus on healing. But Kyle—listen carefully."
He met her gaze.
"Without a doubt, you've stepped into a current that flows deeper than you understand. If you don't anchor yourself... it'll pull you under."
She turned and left with a swirl of her cloak.
Mirai sat again. "We've got you, you know."
Kyle looked down at his hands. Bandaged. Scorched. Still shaking faintly.
"Yeah," he said. "I hope that's enough."
Kyle remained in the infirmary for four days.
The healers said the burns were deep, but something in his mana core had accelerated the healing unnaturally. The outer scars faded rapidly—though the inner aches lingered, both in body and mind.
He had time to think. About the bloodlust. The moment he lost control. The pressure that crushed the air itself. He remembered wanting to destroy Alex.
And what terrified him more than the burns was that… he didn't resist it.
When he was finally discharged, the air around Sanctum Magna had already changed.
Rumors about the fight were spreading—especially the ones about him. They caught on like wildfire. Everywhere he went, it was a new whisper or a twisted echo of the last:
Did you hear? That Rank Zero kid nearly killed a senior.He stood up after being roasted alive—shirtless, like some demon.He didn't even cast high-level spells. Just walked through it and snapped.I heard he's part Voidspawn. That's why Iskra teaches him.No, no—he's from a cursed village. They say the ground there eats mana.Damned cursed commoner.Bet the Council's watching him now...
Some students kept their distance, eyes filled with suspicion—or fear. Others offered cautious nods, impressed in a way they didn't know how to express.
In the hallways, conversations stopped when Kyle passed. In the library, even seniors pretended not to look. In class, his desk felt further away than before.
But a few things remained unchanged.
Orin still plopped down next to him at lunch, humming while eating too many pastries.Mirai still made sure he showed up to lessons—even if she didn't say much.And Vera and Cynric? They waved him over when no one else would.
Still, the silence around him grew heavier. Isolation, this time, not by his own hand—but by the weight of what had happened.
Two weeks later.
Kyle had returned to his routine—light training, classes, and his occasional private sessions with Professor Iskra. His body felt stable, but his mana still flickered unpredictably, responding to emotions he hadn't fully tamed.
He had yet to hear anything formal about the duel.
Until one morning.
A sealed envelope lay on his dorm desk when he returned from a Thaumatology lecture he'd attended in his free period. The seal bore a silver flame crossed with a balance scale—the mark of the Disciplinary Tribunal.
Kyle sat on the edge of his bed, thumb trembling as he broke it.
___
To Kyle of House Noctis,
You are hereby summoned to appear before the Disciplinary Tribunal of Sanctum Magna on the twelfth bell, Hall of Accordance.
Matters regarding your duel with Second Year Alex Mordain will be addressed.
Attendance is mandatory. Failure to comply will result in probation or expulsion.
Signed,Proctor Isadora WrenOn behalf of the Tribunal
___
Kyle stared at the parchment for a long moment.
Then he folded it neatly and stood.
The fire hadn't taken him. Not yet.
And whatever this hearing brought—he would face it.Scars and all.