Riven Blackthorn stood in the center of the Flame Coliseum , sweat dripping down his face as he glared at his opponent—a foreign exchange student named Arkan Vex , known for wielding Black Flame Magic , a rare and destructive form of fire manipulation.
The arena buzzed with anticipation. Students lined the stands, murmuring in excitement. Even Professor Orin had shown up, holding a popcorn bucket labeled "SPICY STUFF ."
Luna sat beside Kael on the bleachers, arms crossed.
"This is gonna be bad," she muttered.
Kael nibbled a cookie. "Why?"
"Because Riven's ego is bigger than his flames today."
Below, Arkan smirked. "Ready to lose, red-haired fool?"
"You're the fool!" Riven roared, summoning twin blades of fire. "Let's see how you handle this!"
He lunged forward, slicing through the air. His flames were fast, furious, and intense enough to melt steel—but the moment they touched Arkan, they vanished .
Silence fell.
"What?!" Raven shouted. "Why didn't that work?!"
Arkan grinned darkly. "My magic devours flame. Yours is just… bright."
He raised his hand. A wave of black fire surged forward, consuming the arena in shadow.
Riven barely dodged, rolling aside, but his cloak caught fire. He smothered it frantically.
"Come on!" he growled. "Fight me fairly!"
"Fair?" Arkan chuckled. "Magic doesn't care about fair."
Another blast of darkness launched toward Riven—this time, there was nowhere to run.
Before the attack could connect, the ground beneath Riven shifted .
Vines erupted from the arena floor, wrapping around him and yanking him sideways. The black flame scorched empty space instead.
The crowd gasped.
"What the—?!" Riven blinked.
Professor Orin leaned forward, eyes wide. "Nature-based redirection magic? No incantation? Who cast that?!"
No one raised their hand.
Kael casually lowered his sleeve, hiding the faint glow on his fingertips.
"Wasn't me," he said quietly.
Luna narrowed her eyes. "Of course not."
On the battlefield, Riven scrambled to his feet, panting.
"You alright?" Luna called.
"I'm fine!" he snapped, wiping sweat off his brow. "That was just a lucky dodge!"
Arkan scowled. "Lucky or not, you're outmatched."
He raised his hands again—but this time, the fire around him flickered .
Then, it died entirely.
The entire arena went cold.
"What?!" Arkan stared at his palms. "My magic—it's gone!"
Riven blinked. "Did you finally run out of mana?"
"No! Something nullified my spells!"
Above, Kael sighed. "Too easy."
Miraculously, the match ended in a draw. Arkan left fuming, and Riven staggered off, unsure whether he'd won or been humiliated.
As students dispersed, Luna turned to Kael.
"Alright," she whispered. "How many times are you going to save people before someone realizes it's you?"
Kael shrugged. "Depends. How many times do you plan to ask?"
She groaned.
Later that evening, a commotion stirred in the Academy Courtyard . Students gathered near the main gate, whispering excitedly.
"Is that…?"
"The rumored transfer student?"
"She's from the Moonlit Archipelago!"
Stepping through the gates was a girl with long, silver hair and piercing emerald eyes. Her uniform was pristine, and a simple staff floated behind her, humming with ancient energy.
Her name was Mirai Elowen .
Professor Orin greeted her with a dramatic bow. "Welcome to Eldoria, Miss Elowen. We've heard much about your talents."
Mirai nodded politely. "I only wish to learn."
Her gaze swept across the courtyard—and landed directly on Kael.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Kael felt a chill crawl up his spine.
There was something different about her.
Something… aware .
Mirai tilted her head slightly, as if silently asking, "Who are you really?"
Kael looked away first.
Ink fluttered beside him, muttering, "Uh-oh. She sees through things. This is bad."
"Why bad?" Kael asked.
"Because you can't trick people who already know magic shouldn't work like this."
During lunch, Mirai found Kael sitting alone under a tree, reading a book titled "The Art of Non-Magical Combat" (which confused everyone because Kael wasn't even enrolled in physical combat classes).
She approached, sitting beside him without asking.
"Hello," she said softly.
Kael glanced at her. "Hey."
Mirai smiled faintly. "You're Kael Lysander, right? Tier 3 Wind Mage."
"That's what the records say."
She studied him, then gestured toward the academy grounds. "I saw what happened during the duel. The vines. The sudden loss of magical energy. That wasn't coincidence."
Kael sipped his tea. "Sure sounded like it."
Mirai leaned in slightly. "You have a type of magic I've only read about—Null-Class Apex Magic . Undetectable, untraceable, and capable of rewriting reality itself."
Kael paused mid-sip.
"Interesting theory," he said slowly. "Where'd you hear that?"
"Ancient texts," she replied. "And from watching you."
For the first time in a long while, Kael felt something unexpected.
Unease.
Someone had figured him out.
Not fully—yet—but close enough to be dangerous.
He closed his book. "Even if that were true…" he began carefully.
Mirai cut him off with a smile. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me… for now."
She stood, walking away without another word.
Kael watched her go, feeling the weight of something inevitable.
One person had noticed him.
It wouldn't be the last.
That night, Kael sat on the roof, staring at the stars.
Ink hovered beside him, grumbling. "So, what now? The weird girl knows too much."
"She doesn't know everything," Kael said.
"Yet," Ink countered. "But she's smart. And annoyingly observant."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Let's hope she gets bored and transfers back home."
As if summoned by fate, Luna and Mirai appeared on the rooftop together, chatting casually.
"Mind if we join?" Luna asked.
"I think I do," Kael muttered.
They sat down anyway.
Mirai leaned back, smiling at the sky. "Beautiful night."
Luna stretched lazily. "Yeah. Makes you wonder what kind of idiot would ruin it with a cursed artifact."
Kael stiffened. "Please don't tempt fate."
Below them, somewhere in the forest, the demon chicken crowed once more.
Still ignored.