Twilight Academy's towers gleamed under the morning sun, but shadows moved between the stones.
In a quiet chamber beneath the Grand Library, a figure knelt before a glowing mirror. His robes bore no emblem—just plain black cloth, soaked with silence.
"The janitor's class… shows irregular energy," he whispered. "One girl adapted to a method that shouldn't exist. The noble failed, but lived."
A deep, distorted voice answered through the mirror. "You're certain this isn't an ancient technique?"
"No. It's new. Crafted recently… but the energy pattern resembles pre-divine resonance. Almost like…"
"Like the old world," the voice finished grimly.
Silence stretched.
"Continue watching them," the voice commanded. "Do not interfere yet. But if the janitor reveals more—report."
The spy bowed and vanished into the shadows.
—
Back in Class D's dojo, Han Li stared at the six students, now seated in a meditative circle.
Xun Fei was trembling, his pride crushed—but not broken. Ling Yue sat calm, her aura refined. The cursed boy, Jian Mo, watched the others nervously, clutching his talisman.
"You're changing," Han Li said. "Slowly. Good."
The fox-eyed girl smirked. "When do we get to fight someone?"
Han Li chuckled. "Soon."
He looked to the sky, sensing something faint—eyes, watching.
"Too soon," he muttered.
Far across the academy, in the elite Class A courtyard, a golden-haired youth sliced through stone with a glance. He wore the emblem of Heaven's Crest Clan and had already entered the Nascent Soul stage.
He paused mid-strike. For a moment, he felt… watched.
Then, he smiled.
"Whoever you are," he said quietly, "you'll kneel in the tournament."
—
In the depths of the world, the Sky-Eater blinked.
The game had begun.