"We're so dead," Silas muttered, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"You bastard! Disqualify him immediately!"
The Red Line students surged forward, spears drawn, aiming straight for Cendric and Silas. Inside the academy's control center, staff tensed already preparing to intervene
But then—
Boom.
Gas erupted with a sharp hiss, flooding the chamber in thick, blinding smoke. The Red Line soldiers stumbled back, coughing and confused.
"What the hell?!"
"Where did this come from?! I can't see anything!"
In the chaos, a thin paper charm stirred from within Cendric's uniform.
It twitched then slithered out like a living ribbon, wrapping around his torso.
A soft glow flickered.
Snap.
The ropes binding him tore apart, dissolving into red mist as the charm uncoiled and vanished.
Cendric stood, breath steady.
His golden sword gleamed on the floor where they'd dropped it earlier. He reached down, grabbed it in one swift motion, and turned toward Silas.
