Aura in Yan Shuo's eyes vanished.
Not fading. Not weakening. But… gone.
As if an invisible hand had just forcefully snatched away the flame that had only just ignited, then dragged it back into a well of darkness deeper than the one he had just touched.
The class froze. Even the noisiest student, who had been busy showing off sparks at his fingertips, fell silent. The atmosphere that had been heated suddenly turned cold, leaving behind traces of energy vibrations hanging in the air like dust.
Haoran stared straight at Yan Shuo. For the first time since the bell rang, his face completely lost its relaxed expression. His sunglasses slid down slightly, revealing sharp eyes that traced every inch of Yan Shuo's existence.
"…Strange," he muttered softly.
Haoran stepped closer. His leather shoes tapped lightly against the marble floor, which had begun to crack from the earlier pressure of energy. Each step sounded like a slowing heartbeat in Yan Shuo's ears.
"An Orienzu aura that has already emerged cannot disappear that quickly," Haoran continued. His voice was heavy, echoing between the classroom walls covered in scribbles. "At minimum, twenty minutes. That's not an assumption. That's a law of nature observed for decades."
The dark-skinned man in front of Yan Shuo—Kiro—shrugged, trying to break the tension even though his eyes remained wary.
"Or maybe he's just in shock, Teach. He looked like someone just born, surprised to see the world."
Haoran immediately shook his head. His gaze did not leave Yan Shuo's pupils, now back to ordinary brown.
"There is no connection between focus and initial aura stability. Once that 'door' opens, it will remain open for a while, allowing residual energy to flow out until it naturally closes. But this… it's as if the door was slammed shut from the inside."
The girl in the mini skirt in the front row crossed her legs. The fabric shifted softly against the wooden chair. A thin smile, almost mocking, formed on her lips.
"Or… maybe he simply isn't strong enough to hold it. His vessel cracked before it could be filled."
A small ripple of laughter spread across the class. Sharp and cynical.
Yan Shuo did not react. The mockery felt distant, like a broken radio playing somewhere far away. He was still trying to understand his own body. Inside his chest, he felt empty. A profound void, as if his organs had just been replaced with a vacuum.
But behind that emptiness… there was something. Like an echo. Like a second heartbeat, very faint, yet constant. Something that hadn't truly left, only hiding behind the shadows of his soul.
Before he could think further—a chair shifted.
Screeeet.
The sound was soft, but in the silent classroom, it cut through all speculation. The black-haired man in the front row stood up.
Vat Diante.
He rose with a measured motion. Slowly. As if every muscle fiber in his body had been calculated to create intimidation. His right hand lifted slightly to his side.
In a single second—Lightning appeared.
Not a small spark like an electric lighter. But a stream of living electricity, blue-white in color, moving wildly and hissing like a starving serpent. The air around him instantly smelled of sharp ozone. Yan Shuo could feel it down to his skin—his hairs stood on end, and the static sensation pulled at the fine hairs on his arms.
Vat walked closer. His steps were unhurried, yet each footfall felt heavy, like a weight pressing slowly onto Yan Shuo's chest.
"You," Vat said coldly. His voice was as sharp as a blade. "If that was truly an awakening, you shouldn't be this empty. You insult those of us who bled to reach this stage."
Yan Shuo swallowed. Cold sweat formed on his forehead.
"I… don't know—"
There was no time to explain. Vat didn't need words.
He moved immediately. Fast. Too fast for a human. The lightning in his hand roared, striking straight toward Yan Shuo's face at the speed of sound.
Pure instinct born from fear made Yan Shuo raise his hands. He covered his face, curling into the wooden chair that suddenly felt incredibly fragile. His eyes shut tightly, waiting for the pain that would scorch his skin.
But—there was no impact. No smell of burnt flesh. Only a short, solid sound.
"Tak."
Yan Shuo slowly opened his eyes, one by one. Vat's hand had stopped. Exactly one inch from his nose. The lightning still licked the air, its heat brushing against Yan Shuo's forehead.
And the one holding it back—was Haoran. With one hand, without showing the slightest strain. Haoran gripped Vat's wrist as if he were stopping a child's toy.
"Seems your teaching method is a bit too radical, Vat," Haoran said lightly.
Vat glared at his teacher with disdain. His jaw tightened, then he pulled his hand back roughly. The lightning in his palm still crackled softly with dissatisfaction. But he knew his limits. He did not attack again.
Instead—he extended his hand toward Yan Shuo. His palm open.
"Vat Diante."
The shift in attitude was too fast, almost illogical. Yan Shuo hesitated, staring at the hand as if it were a deadly trap. But under the gaze of the entire class, he finally accepted it.
"I… Yan Shuo."
Vat smiled. A smile too wide. Too quick. And in a fraction of a second—The lightning flowed.
"—UGH!!"
Yan Shuo's body jerked violently. The electric current surged from his palm, crawling up his arm, then spreading through his entire nervous system. His muscles tensed to the extreme, his jaw locked as his teeth clashed painfully, and his breath felt cut off in his throat.
The world before his eyes trembled. Colors faded into a blinding white. Sounds became distant, as if submerged underwater. But Vat's laughter rang clear, echoing directly inside his head.
"HAHAHA! So this is the 'special' student?! Nothing more than a pathetic conductor!"
The current intensified. Yan Shuo began to lose control of his body. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision. But—then the voice came again.
"Let go."
This time it was different. No trace of humor. No relaxed aura that usually clung to Haoran. It was a command. Absolute.
Vat ignored it. He increased the current instead, his eyes gleaming madly. "Teacher, look at this—he doesn't even have basic defen—!"
His sentence was physically cut off. Haoran's hand had already gripped his neck, lifting the athletic man until his feet dangled off the floor. The lightning in Vat's hand died instantly, as if its power source had been forcibly severed.
Yan Shuo collapsed back into his chair. He gasped for air, his lungs working hard to draw in oxygen that felt thin. His body still trembled violently, residual electricity still tingling through his nerves.
But he was conscious. Fully conscious.
He looked forward. Haoran stood there, his broad back blocking the view of Vat, who was struggling. Haoran was protecting him.
That feeling… was very unfamiliar.
All his life, Yan Shuo had always been the one at the very back, the one blamed, the one who had to bear everything alone. No one had ever stood in front of him to block an attack. No one had ever truly… protected him out of care.
A small smile, thin yet sincere, appeared on Yan Shuo's pale face.
Vat, whose face was turning red from the chokehold, saw that smile through the gaps between Haoran's fingers. His emotions exploded. He felt insulted by someone he considered trash.
"Let me go—!"
Haoran did not release him immediately. He looked at Vat with cold eyes behind his sunglasses.
"This is what happens when you harass a new student during my class. You disrupt my communication flow."
He let go just like that. Vat dropped onto the marble floor with a heavy thud, coughing harshly while clutching his neck.
The girl in the mini skirt—whom Yan Shuo later learned was named Miora—sighed, brushing her hair back.
"Teacher… if you keep choking him like that, he might actually die before the first exam."
Kiro glanced over, looking at Yan Shuo with a new expression.
"Seriously. He already looks like a living corpse, but he can still smile. You're crazy too, Shuo."
Vat tried to stand, his face filled with restrained anger.
"What did you sa—"
"Enough."
A single word from Haoran stopped everything. He walked back to the front of the class as if he had just moved a flower vase, not choked an elite student. He picked up a piece of blue chalk.
He wrote. Strange symbols. Spatial formulas. Structures far too complex to be called ordinary chemistry. The lines curved, forming patterns that looked like constellations compressed onto the blackboard.
"Our lesson is not over. And your time is too valuable to waste on trivial drama."
No one argued. Even Vat, though his eyes were still red with anger, could only return to his seat. He leaned back roughly, crossing his arms, but his gaze remained fixed on the board.
The class returned to its rhythm. But the atmosphere had completely changed. Heavier. Deeper. As if the earlier incident had peeled away the surface layer and revealed the core of Class 1H: Power is everything.
Yan Shuo leaned back in his hard chair. His breathing steadied, though his chest still burned from the lingering electricity. Yet behind the pain—he felt a sharp awareness.
He was still alive. And somehow, that simple fact felt extraordinary.
Kiro glanced back slightly, his voice very low.
"Still alive. Not bad. Most people would've passed out by the third second of Vat's shock."
Yan Shuo chuckled hoarsely.
"Yeah… guess I've got talent as a lightning rod."
"My name's Kiro. Don't forget it if you ever need help cheating on material," Kiro grinned.
"I… Yan Shuo."
Kiro nodded, then his face turned slightly serious.
"Listen, Shuo. If you can survive a week here without ending up in the hospital, you'll become a different person. This place will shape you—or burn you to ash."
Yan Shuo didn't answer immediately. He looked ahead, at Haoran explaining Orienzu molecular stability in a calm tone, occasionally scolding students who started to drift off.
This class was chaotic. Some were sleeping, some playing with fire, some arm-wrestling in the corner. There was truly no sense of school etiquette left. Yet here, Yan Shuo didn't feel the pressure he used to feel while working at the factory.
His thoughts drifted briefly. To the image of his boss constantly yelling because production targets weren't met. To the piles of bills that kept him awake at night. The suffocating feeling that used to grip his throat every morning.
Back then, one small mistake meant ruin. Here, one small mistake meant death—but strangely, it felt more fair. At least here, he had a chance to fight back.
He took a deep breath. The air in Class 1H felt different. Lighter, despite being filled with ozone and dust.
He glanced to the side. The silver-haired girl—Elara—was still sleeping peacefully. But Yan Shuo noticed something new: the floor beneath her feet was cracked symmetrically, forming a perfect circular pattern. As if her mere existence exerted too much weight for gravity itself.
"…Crazy place," he muttered softly.
Yet that small smile returned. For the first time in a long while, he felt free. Free from the shackles of debt, free from the fear of a monotonous future.
Haoran tapped the board once with his chalk. The sound wasn't loud, but its effect was like a cannon blast. All the students who had been half-relaxed immediately straightened. Even Vat only clicked his tongue before fixing his posture.
On the board, the symbols began to change. Not because they were erased, but because they moved. The chalk lines wriggled like luminous worms, rearranging themselves into a more dynamic structure.
"Orienzu Chemistry is not about liquids or gases," Haoran resumed. "It is about the interaction between pure cosmic energy and organic matter at a sub-atomic level."
He pointed to a circle at the center of the diagram. "Your bodies are not just piles of flesh. Inside them is a 'space'—a small dimension that can only be filled with Orienzu. If that space fills without control, you explode. If it remains empty, you are nothing more than a civilian waiting for death."
Yan Shuo stared at his hand. Haoran's words echoed in his mind. Vessel.
"Then… does everyone have a different form of vessel, Teacher?" Yan Shuo asked. His voice rang clearly in the silent class.
Haoran glanced at him from behind his sunglasses. "Correct. And that difference determines what kind of Stellar will awaken. Your Moon Chess, for instance… that is not a normal vessel. It is a labyrinth."
The atmosphere grew heavy again. Yan Shuo watched with surging curiosity. He tried to follow Haoran's instructions mentally—breathing, sensing his blood flow, searching for that point of light again.
But still, he found nothing. Empty.
Kiro glanced slightly. "Still can't? Relax, Shuo. If you could do it right away, Vat would get even more depressed."
Yan Shuo chuckled. "This is way harder than calculating bank interest."
Suddenly, the loud scrape of a chair cut through their conversation. Elara, the silver-haired girl, moved. She lifted her head from the desk very slowly, as if her head weighed as much as a mountain.
Her silver eyes looked at Yan Shuo briefly. There was a cold glint there, but no hostility.
"Noisy… I can't synchronize if you keep muttering," she said flatly. Her voice was cool, like ice touching skin.
"Ah, sorry," Yan Shuo replied reflexively.
Elara didn't respond. She just stared at the board for three seconds, then laid her head back down. In an instant, she was asleep again.
"…Is she actually human?" Yan Shuo whispered to Kiro.
"Ask her when she wakes up next month," Kiro replied casually.
Haoran cleared his throat, pulling the class's attention back.
"Tomorrow, we will not be in this room. We will conduct field practice in the Peripheral Sector of Seroin."
The students' eyes immediately lit up. Field practice meant real combat.
"That place is a gray zone. The SDC does not fully patrol it. So if you cause trouble or end up in a gutter with a hole in your stomach, I will simply write in the report that you 'went missing in action,'" Haoran said with a smile that was anything but friendly.
Yan Shuo felt adrenaline surge through his veins. The fear was there, but his curiosity was greater.
After the final bell rang, Haoran immediately packed his things.
"Class dismissed. Don't forget to eat well, you'll need the energy to run tomorrow."
Instantly, the class became noisy. Students rushed out. Vat stood, staring at Yan Shuo for a few seconds with a look difficult to interpret—a mixture of anger and curiosity—before finally walking away without a word.
Yan Shuo remained seated, organizing his notebook—which he hadn't used to write chemistry notes, but to sketch small drawings of what he had seen today.
He walked out of Class 1H, along the grand corridors of Noxward. The afternoon sunlight streamed through large glass windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. He paused briefly at a balcony, looking toward the university's main field.
There, he saw other students in neat uniforms. Some were practicing energy swords, others were engaged in serious tactical discussions. They all looked so capable, so far above him.
But Yan Shuo no longer felt small. He clenched his fist against the balcony railing.
"Got struck by lightning today, field practice tomorrow," he muttered with a smile.
His life as a daily laborer was over. Here, in the madness and danger of Noxward University, Yan Shuo felt for the first time that he truly held control over his own chess pieces.
He began walking toward the dormitory with steady steps. The sky of Seroin turned purple-gold, and inside his chest, that echo still remained. Something silent, something waiting for the right moment to erupt.
"Just wait," he whispered to the night wind. "I will surpass this sky."