On a frozen lake where grey-blue mist rose endlessly from ground to sky, silence reigned supreme beneath thick, dark rain clouds.
A figure appeared without warning.
A young man stood at the lake's center, wolf ears rising sharply from his hair.
Alpha.
He scanned the empty expanse and quickly realized it had not changed much—no, it hadn't changed at all.
His ears flicked back and forth, straining for sound.
Nothing.
Is the dragon free? he wondered.
But the word sealing surfaced in his mind, heavy and unyielding, and doubt crept in. Whatever this sealing meant, Alpha was determined to uncover it.
He headed west—the same direction he had explored the last time he'd been here.
He wasn't worried about Ramien waking up before he was done. The sleeping medicine he'd slipped into the water would keep him unconscious long enough. Besides, time moved differently here.
One minute in the real world was an hour in this place.
After two hours of walking, Alpha found nothing.
Then—breathing.
Faint. Deep. Vague.
Dragon breath.
He froze, ears straining. The sound had no clear direction, only presence.
He adjusted course and continued west.
Hours passed.
Still nothing.
Yet the breathing persisted—always distant, always just beyond reach.
Frustration gnawed at him.
Changing tactics, Alpha began leaving footprints behind—each step glowing white against the frozen surface. He retraced paths, looping back again and again, walking circles, triangles, even squares.
Nothing changed.
When glowing lights finally appeared ahead, Alpha dropped hard onto the ice, throwing his arms up in disbelief.
"Where the hell is the dragon?" he snarled.
The place answered with silence.
Breathing deeply, Alpha forced himself to calm down. He sat cross-legged on the ice and closed his eyes.
Meanwhile—
At the Dragon Block arena, chaos ruled.
Students sparred relentlessly. Some trained. Others fought with real intent.
In one corner, Damien, Derian, and Reinna claimed space of their own.
"And how long do you intend to keep training with us, Your Highness?" Derian asked, dreamlike eyes flashing with irritation.
Reinna didn't even look at him.
"Until I'm as good as you," she replied calmly.
Exhaling sharply, Derian finally faced her head-on.
Reinna didn't hesitate.
She drew her scale-forged sword in a single, decisive motion and lunged.
Derian waited until the very last heartbeat before moving. He dipped low, pivoted aside with lazy precision, and let her momentum do the rest.
Reinna's blade sliced through empty air.
Her footing slipped.
She hit the ground hard, skidding across the arena floor with a sharp scrape of metal and fabric before coming to a stop near the outer ring.
A few students nearby winced.
Damien's brows knit together.
Derian never struck her—not once—but this was his pattern. He avoided, redirected, let her fail on her own terms. Every exchange ended the same way: Reinna bruised, breathless, frustrated… and no wiser than before.
"You're overcommitting," Derian said calmly, not even looking at her as she pushed herself up. "Again."
Reinna clenched her jaw, gripping her sword tighter as she rose.
Damien watched her stance—off-balance, defensive, pride screaming louder than reason—and then shifted his gaze to Derian.
Brutal wasn't the right word.
Detached was.
Derian wasn't training her.
He was enduring her.
And that, Damien realized, was far more dangerous.
He didn't know when he had started caring about the lady's safety, but it felt natural—after all, he had been keeping his brother safe since childhood. Feeling concern for a lady was just another habit.
Derian, on the other hand, tightened his gaze at Reinna when he noticed Damien's reaction. Anger rose in his throat.
Before he could calm himself, Reinna closed the distance, anticipating the same move as before, her body tensed in preparation.
Derian considered using the same technique—but in his mind, it escalated to completely crippling the princess. The school allowed it.
He paused. If he followed through, Damien would likely turn against him.
So he stood his ground, skin shifting into purple scales, as Reinna's sword struck him. The impact pushed him back a few steps, but he didn't falter.
Reinna seized the moment to press her advantage—but instead of striking Derian, her sword passed through an after-image. Derian had moved swiftly behind her, a violet-scaled sword in hand, the tip poised at her neck.
"You've lost, Your Highness," he said, his voice calm and unimpressed.
Reinna slumped, leaving the arena to tend to her bruises. Derian watched her go, expecting Damien to step onto the stage—but what he saw next made his blood boil, though he couldn't say why.
Damien, instead of sparring with him as planned, went to heal Reinna.
Naturally, all creatures could heal—the only difference was speed.
"Calm down, D," Derian murmured to himself. "This won't last."
Back in Ramien's Soul Sea.
Alpha suddenly opened his eyes and rose to his feet. His eyes glowed with white light as he activated his ability. Instantly, his vision expanded—first doubled, then tripled, quadrupled—until he could see ten times his normal sight.
He scanned the frozen lake, noting a pattern in his own footsteps. He had been avoiding a heavily fogged area, thinking it a dead end.
Maybe… it was actually the way.
Time was running out. Ramien would soon wake, and Alpha needed to act quickly. He dashed into the fogged section, the white glow of his footsteps illuminating the ground beneath him.
Breathing sounds grew louder as he advanced. Then, suddenly, the mist vanished. The frozen lake stretched before him, vast and uninterrupted.
In the distance, a massive black shape loomed, veins of blue light crawling through its cracks.
The dragon.
Alpha's heart sank. From afar, the dragon looked like a battered wolf pup, lying prone and struggling to heal. Every chain restrained it completely—head to tail, reinforced far beyond the last time Alpha had been here. Not even the slightest movement seemed possible.
His chest tightened. Emotion clawed at him, threatening to spill over. Kneeling beside the creature, he placed his hands—glowing white—on its icy scales. The dragon felt it, but could not move, not even its neck.
Alpha focused, channeling his energy, and slowly, the chains around its neck snapped. The dragon turned its head and mouthed the words, "Thank you."
Relief surged, but before Alpha could savor it, a sharp tug yanked him out of the Soul Sea.
He blinked, eyes meeting Ramien clutching his head.
"Are you okay?" Alpha asked.
"Yeah… just a headache," Ramien replied, wincing slightly. "It comes every now and then."
"Maybe we should head back to the dorm?"
"Yeah, sure."
They walked away from the training grounds, Alpha keeping a careful distance behind, eyes fixed on Ramien. Confusion flashed across his face—questions about the Soul Sea and the dragon's chains running through his mind, but he stayed silent, letting the moment settle.
At the dorm, a whirlpool of yellow light spun in the center of the room—Ace's own dramatic entrance.
As soon as he appeared, he froze. Before him was the rarest sight: Alpha with a calculating, almost predatory gaze.
"Geez, Wolfie… since when did you start looking like a wizard plotting something evil?" Ace muttered, stumbling back a step.
Almost simultaneously, the door opened and Damien walked in. Victor was nowhere to be seen.
Damien headed straight for the bathroom, ignoring everything else. Ace noticed Alpha's eyes following every step Damien took.
A chill ran down Ace's spine. Deep down, he knew—Alpha was definitely up to something.
Without warning, Alpha stood, startling Ace further. He moved to his drawer, rummaging quickly before pulling out a book. He began studying it with intense focus, as if his life depended on it—though in truth, it was his friend's life on the line.
Ace lingered, watching the abnormal scene unfold. He couldn't help but wonder what spell he might have cast wrong to provoke this, a secret only he knew—a life experiment of sorts.
Later that night, Victor claimed a practical class and left. Damien said nothing. Ramien, Alpha, and Ace exchanged casual goodbyes.
Once the door closed, Ace's eyes flicked to Alpha. By some uncanny timing, he had finished the book at the exact same moment. Alpha looked up at the ceiling, smiled faintly, and then turned his gaze toward Damien.
Ace felt the chill return. Alpha—once cute and somewhat weak in his eyes—now radiated danger and unpredictability.
Ace swallowed hard, wondering if he would even manage to sleep tonight.
Damien and Ramien sat opposite each other, the study table between them, two transparent orbs resting atop it. The twins' eyes were glued to the spheres, desperately trying to sense something. Alpha, in contrast, lingered in the shadows, alert and patient—like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.
Every passing second amplified Ace's unease.
Finally, Ramien gave up, glancing toward Damien. His brother's orb emitted a faint warmth, and Damien himself looked completely zoned out.
"I succeeded," Damien's voice rang in Ramien's ears.
"You found it? Congratulations, bro," Ramien said, relief and pride brightening his expression. "Tell me… how did you find it?"
"I can't explain," Damien replied, voice calm, almost distant. "Just felt like searching for something I didn't even know existed. Keep trying—you'll get it."
A pause.
"Eventually," he added, and without another word, climbed onto his bed.
Alpha's eyes gleamed, fixed on Damien like a wolf watching its prey, tail flicking slowly, anticipation building.
The room was quiet. Late at night, none of them were truly sleeping. Damien remained alert, naturally vigilant. Alpha waited, calculating, every muscle ready.
Ace, usually carefree in sleep, laid silently, eyes locked on Alpha, noticing the subtle wag of his tail.
And Ramien… he pressed a hand to his head. The familiar ache had returned. The sealing had been completed a month ago. He wasn't supposed to feel this now.