The bells of Vaelith Academy tolled at dawn. Deep, resonant chimes rolled across the spires and courtyards like the slow breath of an ancient god. One by one, the cursed fog dissolved under the weight of the sound.
The ground steadied. The air lightened.
The nightmare of the siege was gone.
At least on the surface.
Eryndor stood at the edge of the ruined training grounds, cloak stirring faintly in the wind. His crimson gaze swept across the impossible contradiction that was Vaelith Academy.
The devastation of nights before had been erased.
Shattered walls stood whole again.
Burned fields regrew pristine grass overnight.
System-run architecture restored the impossible as though nothing had happened.
Yet the cracks remained. Thin black fractures spiderwebbed across some stones. A lingering metallic scent tainted the breeze. Eryndor noticed. No one else seemed to.
Students poured in from teleportation gates. First-years, upperclassmen, professors. Dozens, hundreds, laughing, shouting, dragging heavy bags of spell-tomes and weapons across immaculate marble walkways.
The Academy looked alive again.
Floating mana spheres drifted lazily above the plaza. Spell arrays danced in the air like living art. Mythical beasts circled distant towers—wyverns, sky whales, mana stags. The spires of the Grand Library glowed like molten gold under the rising sun.
The Academy's beauty was overwhelming.
Unreal. Dangerous.
The Lost Ones gathered behind him.
The Mana-Cursed Girl stared in disbelief at the untouched scenery. The Flickering Aura Boy's jaw tightened, eyes shifting nervously at the crowd's hostile whispers. The Unborn simply stood, silent, chains dragging softly behind him.
They had no faction colors. No House sigils. They were anomaly survivors. Unclaimed. Untouchable.
Eryndor remained still.
The System voice crackled coldly across the plaza.
[All students: Report to Orientation Plaza for class assignment.]
[All previous correction protocols suspended.]
[Academic cycle resuming.]
Eryndor's lips curled faintly as the bells tolled again.
"Finally."
The Orientation Plaza blazed with mana light. Thousands of students stood in rows across the vast crystalline floor. The sky overhead shimmered with floating magical runes. Transparent projections showed the history of Vaelith Academy: past champions, legendary beasts, fallen cities.
The sheer size of the place silenced even the loudest of first-years.
Eryndor stood near the back with The Lost Ones. No one approached them. A bubble of fear formed naturally around their group.
The whispers were sharp.
"That's them."
"The Ruin Faction."
"I heard they killed an entire House."
"Is that Eryndor Vaelith? The anomaly?"
Eryndor ignored it all. His gaze moved coldly across the crowd, already calculating. Factions had returned. House banners rose into the air like predatory wings.
House Caldris. House Merilith. House Halwen. House Dredas.
Elite factions. Full colors. Perfect formations.
He noted who commanded presence. Who was weak. Who could be used.
The Lost Ones stood apart. No colors. No House. An unspoken scar.
The ground trembled softly. The crowd fell silent as the Head Instructor arrived.
He walked alone, robes trailing behind like a living shadow. A jagged staff rested in one hand, ancient runes bleeding faint light across the surface. His face was half-hidden beneath an obsidian mask.
Instructor Albrecht.
The highest combat ranking master of Vaelith Academy.
The Executioner of Unworthy Factions.
His voice echoed without sound.
"Classes resume."
No pleasantries. No introductions.
"You survived the Sorting. The Trials. The Siege."
"But survival is not victory."
"From this point forward: You will attend. You will fight. You will grow stronger or die forgotten."
The System chimed softly.
[Class assignments begin tomorrow.]
[New Tutorial Event unlocked: Shadow Classes.]
[All students required.]
The crowd stiffened. Shadow Classes were not part of the standard curriculum.
The instructor's masked gaze turned slowly toward Eryndor's group. The slightest pause.
"The Ruin faction will report as well."
Then he vanished into mist.
The tension broke instantly. Students surged away from The Lost Ones' position.
A single figure remained.
A tall upperclassman girl with silver hair and pale emerald eyes approached calmly. House Merilith colors rippled subtly at her shoulders. Her gaze was sharp and cold as it locked with Eryndor's.
"You shouldn't be here, Vaelith."
Eryndor met her eyes without flinching.
"I am."
She studied him one second longer, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
The Lost Ones remained still.
Eryndor stared toward the horizon, where dark clouds still twisted faintly above the sealed Core Vault. The Academy had reset. On the surface.
Eryndor's lips barely moved.
"Time to start."