The day after Lucien awakening was quiet—too quiet.
Classes resumed, instructors gave lectures, and students gossiped about the magical anomaly from the night before, but nothing concrete had surfaced. The headmasters gave no statement. The noble houses hushed their young.
The illusion of normalcy lingered in the air.
But beneath Crescent Academy's polished marble and enchanted banners, spies, secrets, and schemes simmered.
---
Lucien sat in the House of Warding, pretending to focus on Professor Thallor lecture on magical perimeter disruption.
Around him, the elite students listened with forced interest.
At the front, seated just two rows down, sat Seraphina Elowen—the golden prodigy of House Solmere. Light itself seemed to bend around her, illuminating her presence with quiet reverence.
She glanced back at Lucien once, her silver-blue eyes narrowing slightly. Something about him had changed.
He looked the same—raven-black hair, sharp gaze, and poised demeanor—but there was a new resonance in his aura. Subtle. Dangerous. Ancient.
She tapped her enchanted quill, casting a silent detection ward.
The quill snapped in half.
Her eyes widened.
> "Impossible. A student's aura can't nullify detection magic unless… unless it's being rewritten in real time."
She stared at Lucien a moment longer, but he offered no reaction. Just a calm gaze, eyes distant—as if orchestrating something far larger than the confines of a classroom.
---
Elsewhere in the academy, Veyr the Royal Enforcer had arrived under the guise of a traveling examiner.
He moved silently, dressed in ash-gray robes, with no visible weapon. Yet the archmages of the court feared him more than any blade.
Veyr didn't need to ask questions. His eyes saw patterns—flaws in magic, lies in behavior, tension in air pressure.
He walked past dozens of students. None noticed him.
But he paused when passing a storage hallway behind the enchantment wing. He turned to face a blank wall, runed slightly at the corners.
A secret vault.
> "You were here," he muttered. "You broke an ancient seal."
He pressed two fingers to the wall. A pulse of energy rippled through the stone.
"Trace locked. Soulprint: Lucien Thorne. Forbidden crest resonance confirmed."
He vanished, leaving only a faint scorch on the floor.
---
Back in the central garden, Lucien sat beneath the moonpearl trees, reading a tome on crest transmutation. Around him, students gossiped and laughed, but he was alone—by design.
Until a soft voice interrupted him.
"You weren't here yesterday during rollcall."
Lucien turned his head. Selira Vael, his secret ally and rebel observer, wore her librarian's uniform with modest grace.
He gave a faint smile. "Studying."
"Of course," she said, sitting beside him casually. "I assume it worked."
He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
She saw it in his eyes—the glow of script runes hidden beneath each blink. The power of Magic Reconstruction now coursed through him, tied to the living Thorned Crest embedded in his core.
Selira leaned closer. "They'll come for you soon. You know that, right?"
Lucien closed his book. "Let them."
---
That night, a duel was declared.
An official one—within the rules of Crescent Academy.
Issued by House Durath's golden son: Kaelen Durath, known for his arrogance and swordsmanship. He claimed Lucien had slighted his younger brother during a house assembly.
But everyone knew the truth.
Kaelen was a proxy.
The nobles were probing Lucien.
Seeing if he would crumble—or reveal the monster beneath.
Lucien stood at the dueling ground as the crowd gathered.
He wore the standard academy dueling robes. No armor. No enchantments.
Kaelen stood opposite, wrapped in glittering plate, sword glowing with blood-red enchantments.
"I hope you enjoyed your time at the top," Kaelen sneered. "You don't belong here, Thorne. You're a mistake the Academy will erase."
Lucien looked up at the sky, where twin moons crossed briefly.
> "I'm not the mistake," he said quietly. "I'm the correction."
---
The duel began with fire.
Kaelen rushed, sword ablaze with flame sigils, shouting incantations meant to intimidate.
Lucien didn't move.
Until Kaelen sword came within an inch of his chest.
Then Lucien's hand flicked.
The flame on Kaelen's sword reversed, wrapping around the hilt, burning his own hands. His armor shattered at the chest—sigils broken, reversed.
Kaelen screamed, dropping the blade.
Lucien stepped forward, whispering in arcane tongue.
> "Invert. Nullify. Rewrite."
Kaelen's crest glowed briefly—then shattered.
The crowd gasped.
Lucien had disassembled a noble's ancestral magic. In public.
He turned to the crowd, calm and cold. "Anyone else want to test me?"
Silence.
From a tower balcony, Veyr watched with interest.
> "So this is the child destined to break the crests of kings…"