I woke after exactly one hour.
My body moved before thought—exercise first. Push-ups. Squats. Controlled breathing. Mana circulation without release. Thirty minutes passed in disciplined silence.
Then the hidden project.
I opened the chest beneath my bed, gathering the materials I'd prepared over weeks. The artifact wasn't complete—its core array still unstable. Time ran short. I wrapped the components in cloth and slid them into my trouser pocket.
The Curse Weaver manifested the academy uniform over the vessel without a word.
I entered the dungeon.
As before, the blue flames ignited.
And as before—
The princess arrived.
I didn't leave this time.
I couldn't speak. I wasn't allowed to. But leaving her alone was worse. If anything happened, the consequences would spiral beyond repair. So I stayed beside her, silent, walking at her pace.
She didn't stop talking.
"Are you a spirit?"
"How old are you really?"
"What's your name?"
"Which affinity do you have?"
"Can you hear me?"
"Why don't you talk to beautiful girls?"
"Why are you always with Aeldir?"
I ignored every question.
We reached the second floor stairs.
Two trolls guarded the path with some goblins.
I dashed forward.
One strike—neck severed.
Second—clean decapitation.
They were weaker than the goblins from the first path.
Lysandria fought behind me, killing nearly ten goblins with sharp, efficient magic. I extracted the cores as she watched.
"Were you an explorer in your last life?" she asked again.
I exhaled.
Mana gathered at my fingertip.
A simple writing spell—light condensed into symbols in the air.
I wrote:
Lysan—
Pain detonated inside my chest.
A violent surge of mana crushed me to my knees. Blood spilled from my mouth as the Curse Weaver's voice tore through my mind.
[I warned you not to speak.]
The spell collapsed instantly.
I tried to stand.
Warmth enveloped me.
Lysandria was already casting healing magic, her hands steady.
"It's fine," she said quietly. "Don't talk. Not if the risk is that high."
I nodded once.
We walked in silence to the girls' dormitory.
When she entered, a sudden drizzle began.
Cold. Artificial.
I steadied myself and turned back toward my hostel.
That was when the first assassin fell from the sky.
Daggers flashed.
I dodged without counterattacking and tried to shift into soul form—
[Unsafe location. End combat first.]
Two arrows screamed from the tower.
I was forced to fight.
I rushed the female assassin to take her hostage—
A shield flared.
A tank-type teleported between us, blocking my strike.
The realization hit immediately.
This wasn't a normal ambush.
They were fast—appearing behind me, vanishing, striking again. A blade cut my leg. Another arrow pierced my arm.
Blood soaked the ground.
I swallowed an instant healing potion and ripped the cloth from my pocket—throwing it into the air. Mana surged.
Sound became shape.
Movement became intent.
I blindfolded them.
Their breathing changed.
I countered mid-air, snapping mana arrows into existence. Twenty-five formed. Only four struck—but it was enough.
The tank charged.
I enhanced my arm and sword, shattering his shield. Arrows pierced my back—six this time—but I didn't stop.
One strike.
The tank soul collapsed.
I pulled the arrows free and formed a water arrow, throwing it wide. The archer dodged—
I reversed its direction.
Impact.
The archer fell.
The assassin stepped forward, smiling as shadow fire erupted harmlessly around her.
"Come out," I said hoarsely. "Or the spirit summoner within this illusion by hand of mine."
The barrier dissolved like boiling vapor.
Emergency healing activated.
The principal appeared.
"Magnificent," he said calmly. "How did you realize it was an illusion—and strike me as well?"
I stood barely upright.
"You forced exposure," I said. "The drizzle was the trigger. The attackers weren't human. Souls don't bleed like this."
He smiled.
"We intended to pressure you."
"You threatened Aeldir."
I raised my hand slightly.
"That fire I used?" I said quietly. "One snap would burn your soul."
Silence.
"We're talking," I finished, "because you want me alive."
The barrier sealed tighter.
No sound escaped.
And the negotiation began.