They Can't Ignore
The sky above Astralis Academy bled orange as the evening sun dipped behind the mana towers.
But no one noticed.
Because the ruins hadn't cooled down—not politically, not magically, and certainly not socially.
Word of the incident had spread faster than any official announcement. Hades Draker—Class Zero's untouchable #1—had once again obliterated expectations, this time in front of multiple envoys and noble delegates.
Not only had he subdued a troll-hound trio with pure pressure, but he'd crushed a summoned specter duel from the infamous transfer student, Laziel Ebonshade—without lifting a finger more than necessary.
And now?
Everyone was talking.
"Did you hear? He didn't even chant. He just stared and snapped."
"I saw the projection orb! The guy dropped like a brick when Hades blinked!"
"Forget blink—he mocked him first! Said he was a subplot!"
"Hades Draker is like a one-man faction…"
"You think he's already awakened a royal-tier blessing?"
"No, that's too common for him. He's something else entirely."
Meanwhile, the person they were all gossiping about?
He was skipping pebbles across the academy fountain.
"You seem oddly calm," Kaela said, watching from a nearby bench.
Hades gave her a side glance. "What? Am I supposed to be brooding under a moonlit tower?"
"You humiliated a noble-class rival in front of three species. You should at least pretend to be reflective."
"I am. I'm reflecting on how easy it was."
She sighed and crossed her legs. "You're lucky you're cute."
"Flattery? You're warming up."
"No. I'm reminding myself why I haven't hit you yet."
"Fair."
At that exact moment, Instructor Veylan's voice echoed through their comm-glyphs.
"All Class Zero members, report to War Hall Six. Immediate briefing."
Mirth responded instantly. "Acknowledged."
Selwyn added: "On our way."
Kaela groaned. "We just sat down."
Hades rose, stretching his arms lazily. "And now we stand up. The tragic circle of academy life."
The War Hall wasn't like the other briefing rooms. It was built like an underground vault—walls etched in mana lines, the central floor displaying a massive projection map of the region, and the ceiling humming with slow, turning sigil rings.
When they entered, the Headmaster himself stood waiting—flanked by delegates from all three major non-human species.
Elven envoy Aereth. Dwarven Master Gragnil. Beastkin Marshal Vor.
And every one of them turned their eyes to Hades as soon as he stepped in.
Veylan didn't waste time.
"We have a problem."
Mirth adjusted his glasses. "Define 'problem.'"
"Something ancient has awakened in the eastern lowlands—beyond the ridge outside the academy's protective barrier. A mana-spiked horde. Monsters."
Hades raised an eyebrow. "What kind?"
Aereth spoke first. "Multiple breeds. Goblin variants, troll alphas, gnoll swarmpacks, wyvern scouts. They're moving in organized waves."
Kaela frowned. "Monsters don't usually coordinate."
"Exactly," Gragnil growled. "This ain't nature. It's warcraft."
Selwyn stepped forward. "You suspect someone is controlling them?"
Vor's yellow eyes narrowed. "Or something."
A new projection appeared. A sigil-pulse map displayed the swarm paths, their convergence points forming a wide crescent that curved toward the academy.
Veylan continued. "The Crown Accord demands immediate field action. And Astralis has been selected to provide the response team."
Kaela straightened. "You want Class Zero on the front line?"
"No," Veylan said. "I want Hades Draker on the front line."
Silence.
Even his team turned toward him.
Hades blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. The envoy circle has made it clear. After what you did in the ruins, you've earned their confidence. And their curiosity."
Aereth added, "We need to know if your strength is anomaly… or destiny."
Hades gave a lazy smirk. "Can't it be both?"
The next day, Class Zero was dropped at the outer perimeter of the academy's jurisdiction—a wild, broken region filled with tangled forest, sharp crags, and ruins half-swallowed by nature.
Above them, floating scrying crystals recorded everything. Dozens of nobles, mages, and species representatives were watching remotely from the Crown Accord watchposts.
The team huddled inside a rune-carved field bunker, reviewing the terrain.
Selwyn spoke up. "We're to clear a quadrant of troll nests and track the center of the surge pattern."
Mirth added, "I've narrowed the convergence point to a corrupted ley fissure. There's something… dark attached to it. My scanner keeps glitching."
Kaela tightened her gloves. "What's the plan, Hades?"
He leaned back against the bunker wall, eyes half-lidded, casual.
"Simple," he said. "I walk through the middle. You watch the sides. We let them come to us."
"You want to draw the entire horde?"
"Yup."
"You'll die."
"Nope."
Kaela rolled her eyes. "Why am I even asking."
They moved at dawn.
The corrupted woods were teeming with mana fog—choking, thick, and tinged with a purple hue that made the skin crawl.
The monsters didn't wait long.
The first wave—gnoll scouts, bone-armored, snarling—leaped from the shadows with rusted blades and poison darts.
Hades didn't flinch.
He simply held out one hand, palm open.
And the fog around him shattered.
Like glass.
Like it had been waiting for him.
A ripple of pure, silver-white mana erupted from his Seraphim core—blinding, silent, absolute.
The gnolls fell mid-air, unconscious before they hit the dirt.
The second wave was louder—troll whelps, ogre-born, armed with heavy stone clubs and embedded runic anchors. They bellowed, shaking the trees.
Hades stepped into their charge.
One. Two. Three.
Each strike he threw connected like lightning—graceful, clinical, impossibly fast. He didn't kill. He didn't have to. They just dropped.
"Are we... still needed?" Kaela asked from the side, watching him dance through chaos.
"No," Mirth said. "We're background now."
As they reached the fissure's heart, the land broke apart into a crater-ringed hollow of corrupted stone. At the center stood a throne of bone, half-melded with the rock.
And seated on it was something wrong.
Not human. Not monster. A fusion of both.
It opened one eye, red as embers, and smiled with a mouth far too wide.
"You're not from this world," it rasped.
Hades tilted his head. "No. But I'm the one it picked."
"You walk with the Seraphim. I was its shadow. I was—"
Hades vanished.
Reappeared beside the throne.
And placed a hand on the thing's chest.
"Talk less."
The Seraphim flared.
The throne shattered.
The thing was erased—silent, instant, painless.
Silence fell.
Even the beasts in the trees retreated.
Far away, in the observation tower, multiple envoys stood stunned.
"That child," whispered the dwarven king, "has command over light and will."
"The Seraphim," the elven queen murmured, "has returned."
Back at the crater, Hades dusted off his coat, glanced at his squad, and said, "Next time someone tells me I'm not the protagonist, remind them of today."
Kaela groaned. "You're insufferable."
Mirth nodded. "But statistically superior."
Selwyn said nothing. He just smiled.
Hades looked toward the horizon.
There would be more threats. More monsters. More nobles who tried to tame what he was.
But none of them mattered.
Because this was his story.
And no one else was even close to catching up.