For the first time in several days, Darian was doing absolutely nothing.
And it was glorious.
No corrupted mana. No secret investigations. No mysterious crimson eyes lurking beneath the academy. Just a quiet, uninterrupted afternoon.
Unfortunately, peace lasted exactly twelve minutes.
"Your Highness."
Darian didn't even look up from the book in his hands. "What happened?"
Marie let out a quiet sigh. "The fact that you can identify trouble solely from my tone is concerning."
"I've had practice."
That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. Progress. She stepped forward and placed a folded invitation on the table.
Darian stared at it. Then at her. Then back at the invitation. "No."
"You haven't even read it."
"I don't need to," he said, pointing at the elegant gold seal. "Nothing good has ever arrived in an envelope that expensive."
A brief silence followed. Marie hated that he had a point. "Unfortunately," she said, "this one requires your attendance."
Darian groaned. Actually groaned. Marie looked oddly satisfied, as if the universe had finally stepped in to punish him.
"What is it?" he asked.
"A joint social gathering."
Darian immediately looked suspicious. "Those words individually are bad enough."
Marie continued anyway. "Hosted by multiple noble factions."
Worse.
"Featuring first-year representatives."
Even worse.
"And attendance has been personally requested by the Headmaster."
Darian closed his eyes. Of course it had. Because apparently, Alaric Vayne enjoyed suffering.
The academy garden had been transformed for the occasion. Small, elegant tables sat beneath flowering trees, while students wandered between them in formal attire. Unlike the ballroom gathering, this event felt less like an active battlefield and more like a networking exercise.
Which meant it was only slightly less dangerous.
Darian arrived precisely on time. It was a mistake. Because the moment he appeared, people noticed.
"Why do they keep staring?" he muttered.
Marie didn't even bother answering; they both knew why. He was the prince who had changed overnight. The prince involved in every major rumor currently circulating through Virecan. The prince currently under investigation by half the academy.
Very popular and Very annoying.
Before Darian could escape toward a quieter section, a familiar voice called out. "Your Highness."
Ethan Vale approached, carrying two drinks. Darian blinked. "Ethan."
Ethan handed him a glass. "I figured someone needed protection."
"From what?"
"The nobles."
Fair.
Darian accepted the drink, and for a moment, neither spoke. It was strangely comfortable—an unusual experience lately.
Then, Ethan ruined it. "So."
Darian narrowed his eyes. A dangerous opening. "So?"
Ethan's grin widened. "How are things with Lady Reinhardt?"
Darian immediately regretted accepting the drink. "I knew this was a trap."
Ethan looked entirely too pleased with himself. "You danced with her."
"One dance."
"Half the academy thinks you're courting."
"Half the academy is stupid."
"Probably."
Neither looked entirely convinced.
Across the garden, Celia Reinhardt suddenly sneezed. A strange feeling washed over her, as though someone was discussing her. Suspicious, her eyes swept across the gathering and immediately found Darian. And Ethan. Talking. Laughing.
For some reason, that surprised her. The prince had become increasingly difficult to predict. Most nobles spent every waking moment building influence, yet somehow, Darian occasionally behaved like a normal student. It was very strange.
Meanwhile, Darian sensed danger approaching. Not political danger. Worse: social danger.
"Your Highness."
He looked up and immediately understood. Three noble daughters stood before him, smiling politely.
Ethan abandoned him instantly. Traitor.
"Good luck," Ethan murmured before disappearing into the crowd.
Coward.
The girls sat without invitation, naturally. Darian stared at his drink, hoping that if he focused hard enough, reality would improve. It didn't.
One of them smiled sweetly. "We've heard so much about you lately."
That sentence never led anywhere pleasant.
"Unfortunate," Darian replied.
The girls laughed. Marie watched from nearby, entirely unhelpful. For the next twenty minutes, Darian endured.
Questions. Rumors. Speculation. It was a masterclass in political probing disguised as casual conversation. By the end of the horrifying experience, even fighting corrupted mana sounded relaxing.
Later that evening, as the gathering finally dispersed, Darian walked through the academy gardens with visible exhaustion.
"That looked painful," Marie observed.
"It was."
"You survived."
"Barely."
Marie actually laughed. It was a small sound, brief but genuine. Both noticed it. Marie immediately composed herself, and Darian pretended not to have heard. Some things didn't need commentary.
Ahead of them, the academy buildings glowed peacefully beneath the setting sun. For once, things felt almost normal. Darian knew it wouldn't last—nothing in Virecan ever stayed simple for long—but for tonight, he allowed himself a rare moment of quiet.
Night settled over Virecan Academy. Most students slept peacefully. Others studied. A few plotted.
And deep beneath the academy, something waited.
Darian woke instantly. There was no sound, no movement, yet his eyes opened without hesitation. A strange sensation lingered at the edge of his mind.
Wrong. Something felt intrinsically wrong.
He sat upright slowly. Moonlight filtered through the suite windows, painting pale silver across the room. It was silent. Yet the feeling remained.
Frowning, Darian simply listened.
Nothing.
Then—a pulse. Faint and distant, like a heartbeat echoing through stone. His expression hardened.
Elsewhere within the academy, Professor Selena stood on a balcony overlooking the grounds. She felt it too: a subtle disturbance in the academy's mana flow. It was brief, almost impossible to detect.
Her crimson eyes narrowed.
Not again. Without hesitation, she turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Meanwhile, far below the academy, beyond sealed corridors, forgotten archives, and ancient barriers, a lone figure walked through the dark.
Black robes concealed their appearance completely; only their hands remained visible, covered in dark, pulsing veins.
Corruption but Controlled corruption.
The figure stopped before a massive stone gate etched with ancient runes. Most of the seals were broken already. Only a few remained active. Beneath the hood, the figure smiled. "Almost."
A hand pressed against the stone. Black mana spread across the surface like ink in water. The final seals trembled. Cracks appeared. One. Then two. Then dozens.
Something behind the gate stirred.
Back in the upper noble wing, Darian stood near his window. The strange feeling refused to disappear. His instincts screamed at him to move, act, investigate—the exact same instinct that had warned him about the ballroom incident, the same instinct that always reacted to corrupted mana.
Slowly, his gaze shifted toward the academy's central spire. He froze. For half a second, he thought he saw a crimson light flicker beneath the structure. Then it vanished. Gone, as though it had never existed.
Darian's eyes narrowed. He had seen enough strange things recently to know one golden rule: If something looked impossible, it was probably important.
The next morning, the academy exploded with rumors.
Students gathered in tight clusters throughout the courtyards. Whispers spread like wildfire, carrying a potent mix of concern, confusion, and fear. Darian immediately knew something had happened.
Ethan found him near the main pathway, his usual easygoing expression replaced with something unusually serious. "Did you hear?"
"Depends."
"Several students disappeared last night."
Darian stopped walking. "How many?"
"Three." Ethan folded his arms. "No signs of struggle."
Darian's expression darkened. That matched the original story. Unfortunately, it wasn't supposed to happen yet. The timeline was accelerating, which meant whoever operated beneath the academy was becoming bolder. Or desperate. Neither option was encouraging.
Suddenly, a loud bell echoed across the academy grounds. Once. Twice. Three times.
Every student stopped moving. That wasn't a normal class bell; it was an emergency summons. Unease spread rapidly as students began flooding toward the central assembly hall. Even the nobles looked nervous.
Darian exchanged a glance with Ethan. Neither spoke. Both walked faster.
The assembly hall filled quickly, hundreds of students gathering beneath the enormous vaulted ceiling. Faculty lined the walls. The atmosphere felt heavy and tense.
Then, Headmaster Alaric stepped onto the central platform.
The room instantly fell silent. His expression alone told everyone this wasn't a routine announcement. For several seconds, he simply looked out over the gathered student body.
Then, he spoke. "Last night." His voice boomed, echoing throughout the hall. "Three students disappeared."
Whispers erupted immediately. Alaric allowed them exactly three seconds before commanding silence once more. "We are currently investigating. Until further notice, students are forbidden from leaving designated academy zones after sunset."
More murmurs. More anxiety.
Then, Alaric's gaze hardened. "For the first time in decades..."
The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
"...Virecan Academy is under internal threat."
Complete silence fell over the room. Everyone understood what that meant. The danger wasn't lurking outside their walls. It was already here.
And somewhere within the crowded hall, a hidden figure smiled. Because everything was unfolding exactly as planned.