Chapter Twelve
Morning had already broken, the horizon streaked with pale gold and soft lavender. From his perch on the rooftop, Kisame surveyed the campus below: rows of brick buildings crowned with slate roofs, courtyards dotted with benches and flowerbeds. Above it all loomed a vast, translucent dome of shimmering green energy, its surface rippling like the scales of some great serpent. Sunlight filtered through the barrier, casting everything inside in an otherworldly emerald hue.
Yet something felt… wrong.
Past the barrier's curved edge, the world had been frozen in place. Kisame frowned at the motionless tableau. A flock of sparrows, mid-flutter, hovered like living sculptures—their wings splayed but utterly still. Down below, cars sat abandoned on the avenue, tires half-buried in shallow puddles that caught the green glow and held it like stained glass. Not a single leaf stirred on the oak trees. No breeze whispered through the air. No distant hum of traffic reached his ears. Outside, time itself had been paused.
"…That's strange," he muttered, unease coiling in his chest like a living thing.
He glanced toward the classroom wing where Ali still slept, his back to the window. Then Kisame tore his gaze back to the frozen world. Heart pounding, he vaulted from the rooftop and raced down the stairwell, his boots echoing on the concrete steps. At the main entrance, he skidded to a halt just inches from the green barrier, pressing a hand against its surface. The barrier felt cool and solid, vibrating faintly under his palm.
Nothing moved beyond it. No footsteps in the street, no shifting of clouds overhead—only an eerie, perfect stillness.
He closed his eyes and summoned Hunter's Awareness. A soft hum resonated in his mind as the skill unfolded within him, senses stretching outward… Only to detect nothing. He traced the barrier's curve with slow, deliberate steps, but still sensed no life, no heartbeats, no wind.
A cold shiver slid down his spine. This place wasn't merely cut off—it was severed from time itself.
Frustrated, he spun around and strode back into the school. Through a sunlit classroom window, he glimpsed Ali watching him. A faint red aura glowed behind Ali's eyelids, pooling like molten ruby. Ali's lips curved in a small, knowing smile before he deactivated his skill and rose from his desk.
Kisame leaned casually against the doorframe. "I didn't know you could use Hunter's Awareness too," he said, surprise tempering his relief.
Ali shrugged, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear. "Well, the skill has a good name. Figured I'd learn it."
Kisame allowed himself a grin. "Then let's not waste any more time. We need to finish our quests." His tone grew firm. "No more delays."
They made their way to the canteen, passing under vaulted corridors where morning light danced across tiled floors. Inside the canteen, they ate quickly, the clatter of utensils and low murmur of classmates offering a fleeting comfort against the uncanny silence lurking beyond the barrier.
After breakfast, they parted ways. Kisame slipped into the library, where dusty tomes lined towering shelves and shafts of light illuminated motes of dust in the hushed air. Here, he hunched over ancient scrolls, deciphering cryptic inscriptions. Meanwhile, Ali strode across the quad to the training grounds, where the clang of steel on steel rang out and the ground was worn smooth by countless footfalls.
Evening descended in a blaze of copper and purple. The schoolyard buzzed with activity as students busied themselves for the Second Trial. Beneath strings of lanterns, groups formed and inventories were checked. Warriors in gleaming armor hefted broadswords; archers strung bows, testing the twang of bowstrings; healers laid out potions in neat rows. The air filled with the metallic scent of sharpened blades and the earthy aroma of leather.
Stronger students donned full plate and hefted heavy weapons with confident ease. Those less skilled clustered close to allies, their backs protected as they clutched lighter daggers or staves. Above the organized chaos floated an undercurrent of determination: everyone understood the stakes of tomorrow's trial.
At twilight, representatives of the student council stepped forward. "Ali and Kisame, you two are group leaders," one of them announced, her voice firm under the glow of lantern light.
"Huh?" Both Kisame and Ali exchanged startled looks, hands raised in mutual surprise.
"Yes, both of you," the council member repeated. "I've seen you fight—here, and in tournaments before this hell. You're faster, stronger, and you think differently. You stand apart from the rest. That's why you will lead."
The two nodded, absorbing the weight of responsibility as their peers watched with a mixture of respect and hope.
Preparations continued in tense silence: weapons were double-checked, formations rehearsed, strategies whispered under roving lantern light. This time, there would be no hesitation.
Then, as the last rays of sunset faded, a familiar presence floated into view above the assembled students. Heuk Ryeong descended with graceful ease, his dark robes billowing like ink in water. His arrival hushed the schoolyard; even the crackle of distant fires seemed to dim.
"Hello, everyone," he crooned, voice laced with false warmth. "I hope you had a good rest."
A ripple of resentment swept through the students—eyes narrowed, fists clenched.
Heuk Ryeong's smile widened. "Let's begin your Second Trial."
In an instant, the world tore away. A violent surge of energy crackled through the air as every student felt themselves yanked from the schoolyard. The familiar walls and lanterns dissolved, replaced by an alien landscape under a blood-red sky. The Second Trial had begun.