Two weeks passed.
The academy looked untouched repaired stone, resealed earth, and new wards shimmered faintly along walls and pillars. But beneath the polished restoration lay silent resentment, rumors, and the memory of fire.
Reconstruction teams magicians brought from Earth who graduated long ago, specialists in structural magic and geomancy—had patched every visible scar.
But not the scar left in the minds of students remained raw.
Max's name now floated through halls like a ghost.
Victoria walked alone—always alone.
Where she passed, conversations died. Footsteps shifted away. Eyes followed her like shadows.
Whispers clung to her like smoke.
"She burned him alive."
"She smiled while doing it."
"Future S-Tier? She's a monster."
"I heard her spirit ate his soul."
"She's unstable. Someone should put her down before she kills again."
None of them dared speak loudly when she turned her gaze toward them. A single cold glare from her emerald eyes could silence a room.
And yet even now her steps never faltered.
The faculty, the researchers, and the higher-ranking professors treated her not as a criminal but as an investment.
A dangerous, promising weapon.
She ignored them.
Today, she walked toward the auditorium.
Because today, the school held a memorial.
For Max.
Inside the massive hall, the air was heavy. Candlelight flickered along the walls and a photograph hovered above the stage, a still image of Max smiling awkwardly back home. Students gathered in small clusters, some solemn, some indifferent, some curious.
Victoria took a seat at the back.
The silence was suffocating.
Finally, Headmaster Zephyr stepped forward, his voice carried by wind magic gentle and calm.
"Thank you all for gathering."
His gaze swept the room weighing every soul present.
"Today we acknowledge the loss of one of our own students, Max."
The hall remained still.
Zephyr lowered his head and every professor mirrored the gesture.
"We failed to protect him. For that, we accept responsibility."
A hush lingered soft, respectful… until it began.
The whispers.
"That's a lie—he died because of her."
"She should have been expelled."
"She'll kill again."
"I hope someone stops her."
"Someone should challenge her while she's weak. Before she becomes unstoppable."
Victoria's jaw tightened until her teeth ached.
She didn't react—not outwardly.
But inside?
A storm of emotions raged.
Zephyr continued.
"We are continuing our investigation. Until then, let Max's death serve not as discouragement, but as a reminder that power without discipline is destruction. And those who rise here will face many trials—seen and unseen."
A final gust of wind carried his closing words.
"Return to your dorms. Classes are suspended for the day."
Students wasted no time. They rushed to leave especially those nearest Victoria, parting like water around poison.
She stood her expression unreadable and quietly began walking toward the exit.
A shoulder slammed into hers.
Hard enough to stagger her.
Gasps echoed.
Victoria froze showing restraint, holding back her buildup of anger.
Slowly, she straightened.
A voice spoke behind her cold, barely held together by grief and rage.
"Where are you going, Victoria?"
She turned.
Alex stood there, eyes red from sleepless nights, anger radiating from him like heat.
He stepped closer.
"Going back to your perfect room?"
"To sleep peacefully—after what you did?"
Victoria said nothing.
Alex's wristband lit up a bright crimson.
A system prompt echoed through the auditorium speakers, catching every remaining student's attention:
Official Duel Request Issued
Challenger: Alex Kwan
Challenged: Victoria Aksa
Conditions: Pending
A notification pinged across every student's device. Whispers exploded instantly.
Alex tilted his head, eyes sharp with pain and fury.
"You killed my closest friend. Someone has to put a leash on you."
Victoria blinked once—slowly.
Then she smiled.
Her watch pulsed in response accepting the challenge without hesitation.
"Scared?" Alex taunted. "Or just waiting for someone weaker so you can burn them too?"
Victoria's shoulders relaxed, posture shifting not defensive from his jabs and taunts… but predatory.
She stepped forward until only inches separated them.
Her voice was soft—but every word fell like a hammer.
"Scared?"
She laughed—quiet, cold.
"No."
She leaned closer.
"But you should be."
Because now? Her eyes sharpened alive with something ancient.
"I guess," she whispered,
"today isn't just a memorial."
Her smile widened—slow and big for all to see.
"It's everyone's funeral!"