The Academy had changed overnight.
Whispers followed Aerion wherever he went.
Some were filled with fear.
Some with curiosity.
Some with something darker—envy.
Aerion could feel it in the air as he walked through the eastern corridor, Lyria beside him. Conversations died the moment he passed. Eyes followed. Mana stirred uneasily.
"He's the one," someone murmured.
"The anomaly…"
"Did you see the sky last night?"
Lyria clenched her fists. "They're afraid of you."
Aerion exhaled slowly. "So am I."
Since the arena incident, his senses had sharpened unnaturally. He could feel mana flows like threads in the air, hear heartbeats through walls, sense intent before words were spoken.
And worse—
He could feel memories pressing against the back of his mind, like a locked door begging to be opened.
They reached the training grounds.
Instructor Kaedor stood at the center, arms crossed, his scarred face unreadable. He was a veteran—one of the few who had survived the Border Wars.
"All first-year combat candidates," Kaedor barked. "Line up!"
Aerion took his place.
Kaedor's gaze lingered on him longer than necessary.
"So," the instructor said, voice carrying across the field, "we'll be testing something different today."
A ripple of unease moved through the students.
"Live combat evaluation," Kaedor continued. "No killing. But no holding back either."
Excited murmurs erupted.
Aerion's instincts flared.
This wasn't coincidence.
Kaedor raised a hand, pointing.
"Aerion Valenfall."
The entire field went silent.
"You will step forward."
Aerion did.
Kaedor's eyes hardened. "Your opponent—"
He turned slightly.
"—Cassian Dreyk."
A tall boy stepped out from the ranks, silver-blond hair tied back, eyes sharp and confident. His mana aura was intense, refined.
A prodigy.
Lyria's breath caught. "Cassian… he's already at Rank-B mana control."
Cassian smirked as he faced Aerion. "No hard feelings. I've always wanted to test myself against a legend."
Aerion met his gaze calmly. "I'm not a legend."
Cassian leaned closer. "That's not what infinity says."
Kaedor slammed his staff into the ground.
"Begin."
Cassian moved first.
In a blur, mana surged around him, forming twin blades of compressed wind. He closed the distance instantly, striking with practiced precision.
Aerion barely dodged.
The wind blades grazed his sleeve, slicing fabric cleanly.
Fast, Aerion noted. Trained. Confident.
He raised his hand instinctively—
And stopped.
No.
He stepped back, relying on footwork alone.
Cassian pressed the attack, relentless. Each strike was calculated, refined through years of noble training.
"You're hesitating," Cassian taunted mid-swing. "Is that fear?"
Aerion ducked under a blade and answered quietly.
"No."
He moved.
Not faster.
Not stronger.
But cleaner.
Cassian's next strike met empty air as Aerion shifted at the last moment, slipping past him like a shadow.
The crowd gasped.
"That movement—!"
"He didn't use mana!"
Cassian spun, eyes narrowing. "Stop holding back."
"I'm trying not to hurt you," Aerion replied honestly.
That angered him.
Cassian roared as his aura exploded outward. The ground cracked beneath his feet.
"Don't pity me!"
He launched forward, blades screaming through the air.
Aerion's pulse quickened.
The infinity mark burned.
Enough.
Aerion caught Cassian's wrist mid-strike.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling across the field.
Gasps turned to shouts.
Cassian froze.
His eyes widened as he felt it—
Not mana.
Something deeper.
Ancient.
Cold.
"What… are you?" Cassian whispered.
Aerion released him gently and stepped back.
"I don't know yet."
The field fell silent.
Kaedor's expression was grim.
"Again," the instructor commanded. "Full force."
Cassian hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Fine."
He raised both hands.
The air above the field twisted violently.
A spell circle formed.
High-tier magic.
Students backed away.
"This is insane!" someone shouted.
Aerion felt it—
A familiar pressure.
This spell… I've seen it before.
Memory stirred.
A battlefield.
A thousand mages falling in an instant.
Aerion's vision blurred.
"No," he whispered. "Not here."
Cassian completed the chant.
"Tempest Divide!"
A wall of annihilating wind surged toward Aerion.
Time slowed.
Aerion saw every particle, every fluctuation.
And something inside him clicked.
He raised his hand.
The infinity mark ignited.
The wind—
Stopped.
Not blocked.
Not deflected.
Ended.
The spell unraveled into nothingness, as if it had never existed.
The field went deathly quiet.
Cassian fell to his knees, gasping.
Impossible.
Spells didn't just… vanish.
Aerion stared at his hand, horror and awe mixing in his chest.
"I didn't mean to—"
Kaedor stepped forward sharply. "That's enough!"
The duel was over.
No cheers followed.
Only fear.
Kaedor dismissed the students quickly, his gaze never leaving Aerion.
Lyria rushed to him. "Are you okay?"
Aerion nodded slowly. "I think so."
But inside—
He was shaking.
That night, Aerion stood alone in the Academy's lower sanctum.
An ancient place.
Forbidden.
He didn't know how he found it.
His feet simply remembered the way.
Torches ignited as he entered, reacting to his presence.
At the center stood a sealed altar.
Chains of light wrapped around a stone slab.
And on it—
A weapon.
Not metal.
Not mana.
Something else.
Something that felt… familiar.
"You shouldn't be here."
Aerion turned.
Headmistress Myrienne stood at the entrance, her expression conflicted.
"You found it," she said softly. "Just like before."
Aerion swallowed. "Before…?"
She stepped closer. "This weapon was sealed centuries ago. It responds only to one soul."
The chains rattled.
The altar pulsed.
Aerion's past memories surged violently.
White fire.
A blade that cut through concepts.
A promise made at the edge of existence.
"What is it?" he asked.
Myrienne met his eyes.
"The Endbringer."
Aerion's breath caught.
"The weapon that killed gods."
The chains began to crack.
Somewhere far away—
A seal shattered.
And infinity—
Took notice.