The rain hadn't stopped for two days.
The skies over Seoul Hunter Academy hung heavy and gray, thunder rumbling like an echo of something ancient and waiting.
Lee Shin moved through the empty corridor, boots clicking softly against the marble floor. Every few steps, he felt the prying eyes of others — the council's watchers, the guild informants, even the curious students who whispered his name as he passed. His victory had turned him into both an icon and a target.
When he reached the training hall, he found it sealed. A red sigil pulsed on the gate — "Access Restricted: Under Council Order."
So they moved faster than I expected, he thought bitterly.
The academy wasn't just suspicious anymore. They were acting.
He turned to leave, but a familiar voice stopped him.
"You're hard to find these days, little brother."
Shin froze.
The tone was mocking, arrogant — the kind of voice he had grown up hearing only in insults.
Standing near the pillar, arms crossed, was his half-brother Lee Ha-Jun, wearing the Class A insignia like a crown. His hair was slicked back, uniform spotless, and a faint smirk played across his lips.
"What do you want?" Shin asked, keeping his tone flat.
Ha-Jun's smile widened. "You've made quite a name for yourself, haven't you? The weakling of the Lee family suddenly beating top-ranked students, drawing the Headmistress's attention. Impressive."
"Get to the point."
"Oh, the point…" Ha-Jun took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Father isn't happy. He says you've been keeping secrets. Dangerous ones. So he's demanded a relic inspection."
Shin's jaw tightened. "He's using the Guild's authority."
"Exactly. Tomorrow, the Artifact Division will arrive to investigate your ring." Ha-Jun's smirk deepened. "You'll be stripped of that little toy and placed under supervision. You'll go back to being the weakling everyone pities."
He started to turn away but paused. "Honestly, you should've stayed quiet in Class D where you belong. You're just an embarrassment with a famous last name."
Shin's mana flared instinctively — a faint ripple that made the air hum.
Ha-Jun's confident smirk faltered for a second, but he quickly masked it.
"You think you can scare me?" he sneered.
"No," Shin said quietly. "But I don't have to. Deep down, you already are."
Ha-Jun's face darkened, but before he could retort, a calm voice cut through the tension.
"That's enough."
Both turned to see Nonna standing at the end of the hall.
Her long coat swayed lightly with each step, the crest of Class A–Fourth Year gleaming on her shoulder. Her eyes, sharp yet compassionate, locked on Shin first.
"You shouldn't be here," she said softly. "The Council is watching you."
"I know," Shin replied. "Doesn't seem to matter anymore."
Nonna turned her gaze on Ha-Jun. "And you — stop provoking him. Father already has enough plans to ruin this boy's life without your help."
Ha-Jun bristled. "You're defending him again? He's not even—"
"One more word, Ha-Jun," she said coldly, her aura flaring just enough to silence him. "And I'll remind everyone in Class A who really cheated in the midterm."
His face went red with rage. "You wouldn't—"
"Try me."
Ha-Jun glared at her for a long second, then stormed off, his mana flickering erratically as he disappeared down the corridor.
Nonna sighed and rubbed her temples. "He's becoming worse. Father's pressure… the guild's politics… it's twisting all of them."
Shin said nothing. The rain outside had grown louder, a steady rhythm against the glass.
Finally, Nonna spoke again. "You've changed, Shin. The way you fight, the way you look at people… It's not fear anymore. It's purpose."
"I just don't want to stay weak," he said quietly.
Nonna studied him, her expression unreadable. "There's more to it than that. That ring of yours — it hums with something ancient. When I saw your match recording, the mana pulse nearly disrupted our A-class simulations. What is it really?"
Shin hesitated, then looked down at the faintly glowing band.
"I don't know," he lied again. "But it feels like it knows me."
Nonna stepped closer, her hand brushing the air near the ring. "It doesn't feel cursed. Just… old. Like it's been waiting for someone."
He didn't answer. The truth was, the ring had begun whispering again. Every night, he felt faint visions — glimpses of dungeons, faces of long-dead hunters, his own hands bathed in light and blood.
Nonna broke the silence. "The Artifact Division will arrive tomorrow morning. If they try to take it by force, don't resist. I'll handle Father."
Shin looked up, surprised. "Why?"
"Because you're still my brother," she said simply. "And for once, I'd like to protect someone Father can't control."
Morning came with thunder.
The Artifact Division arrived in black coats embroidered with the sigil of the Hunter Guild. They were led by a tall man with gray hair and eyes like polished steel — Inspector Yun Seok-Min, one of the guild's elite relic examiners.
"Lee Shin," he announced in front of the gathered students, "by order of the Guild Association, you are to submit the artifact currently in your possession for classification and safety testing."
The crowd murmured as Shin stepped forward, calm but cold.
The ring glinted under the light.
Inspector Yun extended his hand. "Please remove it."
Shin hesitated. The ring pulsed once — faintly, like a heartbeat. Then again, harder. His fingers wouldn't move.
Something inside the band was resisting — a presence, awake and watchful.
"I can't," Shin said finally.
The inspector frowned. "Then I'll have to remove it myself."
He reached out, his mana forming a precision seal — but before he could touch the ring, the air cracked open with light.
A burst of pure energy erupted, knocking Yun backward several feet. Students screamed, shielding their eyes.
When the light faded, Shin was still standing — the ring burning with faint silver fire, its whispers curling through the air like mist.
Unworthy hands cannot touch what is bound by oath.
The voice was ancient, cold, and filled with quiet authority.
Yun stumbled to his feet, pale and trembling. "That artifact… it's alive."
The Headmistress, who had appeared at the edge of the field, looked at Shin with wide eyes. "No… it's sentient."
Nonna pushed through the crowd, her face pale. "Shin!"
He looked down at his hand — the ring now cool and silent, as if nothing had happened.
But deep inside, he knew something had changed. The ring had chosen to act on its own.
And far above them, in the highest tower of the academy, unseen runes along the walls flickered to life — ancient symbols long thought forgotten.
The awakening had begun.