The hallways stretched endlessly, dark yet strangely polished. Hina followed close behind Ivan, her steps echoing softly against the silence.
He stopped suddenly, pressing his hand against the wall. Shadows rippled outward as a door materialized.
"I'll teach you this one personally," he said with a low chuckle, pulling it open.
Hina hesitated, then stepped through after him—into a flood of noise and light.
The space was alive. Crowds of people bustled about, dressed in a chaotic mix of uniforms, robes, street clothes, armor. Despite the diversity, each carried the same unspoken weight — an intensity, a purpose.
"…Protected," Hina whispered unconsciously.
Ivan's chuckle followed. "This is the Shadow Faction's headquarters. Our heart. Our home." His eyes scanned the chaos, lips curling with amusement. "Looks like the tournament's about to start. Come on—best seats go fast."
They weaved through the crowd until Ivan dropped into a seat overlooking a massive arena. Hina slid in beside him, glancing down at the coliseum floor. It looked like a football field, if football included high platforms, summoning circles, and battlegrounds scarred with shadows.
The fighting began. Students stepped in one by one, unleashing bursts of raw power: dark flames, shadow-forged weapons, violet lightning. Steel clashed, magic collided, and the sound rang in her ears.
Hina's lips parted slightly. Awe flickered across her face—something she hadn't felt since her father's death. For a moment, she forgot her grief, the blood, her stepfather's sneer. For the first time in years, she smiled.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Ivan's voice broke through. "Dark magic. Our way. Some rely purely on sorcery, others mix it with weapons. It's all preference." He tilted his head toward her. "So? What about you?"
Hina frowned, still staring at the arena. "If I rely only on powers, what happens if they suddenly… stop working?"
Ivan barked a laugh. "Hah! Smarter than most who walk through those doors. You'll last longer than the rest, I promise." His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly pleased.
Her gaze drifted across the stands, locking onto a man. Black hair brushing his shoulders, a neatly trimmed beard, eyes sharp and unflinching. Beside him, a woman draped in a modest black dress, a faint dark halo shimmering above her head.
Hina shivered. Something about their presence made her chest tighten.
Ivan noticed and smirked, waving casually. "That's Asim. The woman next to him is Tenshi—or Aiko, if you prefer. She goes by both."
Hina tilted her head. "They're… teachers?"
Ivan leaned forward, amused. "Aiko, yes. Asim? Think of him as her dog. Loyal, overprotective, and always glaring at me like I'm the devil. And Aiko? She has no interest in me. Tragic, isn't it?"
He shifted back to the arena. "Aiko's student is Asim. Stronger than he looks. Some call him a prodigy. He could've become a teacher himself, but turned it down."
"Why?" Hina asked.
"I don't know," Ivan said, shrugging. "Silent type. Only opens his mouth for people he trusts. And Aiko? She doesn't share his secrets. You'll meet them soon—maybe she'll even train you. Just—don't get on their bad side."
Hina's eyes returned to the arena. The fights continued, students rising and falling, shadows and power colliding. But her thoughts kept drifting back to Asim and Aiko, a knot of curiosity and unease settling in her chest.