The crowd should've celebrated.
Instead, they seethed.
Kairon Vex had not only won — he had embarrassed one of Xyprus' elite. The upcoming final was now tainted, not a duel of nobles, but a spectacle starring an outsider. A ghost. A rat.
And so the whispers turned into something sharper.
Something with teeth.
Day 1 of Rest – Post-Semi Finals
The academy walls buzzed with manufactured hate. Posters were defaced. Digital feeds were scrubbed of Kairon's victories. AI commentaries began to "analyze" suspicious patterns in his movements, feeding conspiracy theories.
"Watch his breathing. Too calm. Drugged?"
"Muscle twitch delay. Synthetic control?"
"No lineage, no history — a ghost fighter."
And in the dorm halls…
They came for him.
First Incident – Cafeteria
A tray knocked from his hands. Soup spilled.
He didn't react.
A voice behind him said, "Oops. Guess rats shouldn't eat here."
He stepped aside, left it there, walked away.
Second Incident – Locker Hall
Three students blocked his locker. One leaned in.
"Heard if you fight outside the arena, you get pulled from the tournament. One punch, and you're disqualified."
Kairon stared past them. Not at them. Through them.
One flinched under the weight of that dead-eyed silence.
He left without his gear.
Instructor Lounge
Instructor Rhys slammed his datapad down. "This is coordinated."
Kaien Suro didn't respond.
"You know it's Thorne's doing."
"He's not giving orders," Kaien said, voice low. "He's giving permission."
Vaelric's Quarters
Vaelric sat alone, hands steepled.
No smile. No smirk. Just focus.
He didn't need to touch Kairon.
He just needed someone else to.
"If he strikes outside the ring," he murmured, "he loses everything."
"Rats always bite when cornered."
Day 2 – The Breaking Point
Kairon walked into the lower quad, a narrow courtyard between dorm wings.
Seven students waited.
Elite. Upper-rankers. Sponsored.
Not in uniform — they came "casual." No recordings. No proof.
The leader cracked his knuckles.
"Just a little training match. Nothing official."
"One hit, freak, and you're out."
"Go on. Show us that gutter fire."
Kairon stood silent.
Still.
Measured.
Do not fight. Do not respond.Survive.
But something deep inside itched.
A voice. Older than fear.
"They want you to be a monster.Show them why they should have prayed you weren't."
He inhaled. Exhaled.
The moment stretched.
Then…
A shadow fell across the quad.
Sera Thorne.
She landed between them like a thunderclap, red coat sweeping, voice like steel.
"Touch him — and I swear, you'll be fighting me in the ring and in the courts."
The students paused. Hesitated.
"Final match is in 12 hours," she said coldly. "Don't give me a reason to make it a funeral."
They backed away, sneering.
Sera turned to Kairon.
"You don't know who you are yet," she said. "But you're not a rat. And you're not alone."
Kairon didn't answer.
But for the first time…
He nodded.
Later That Night – Rooftop
The final match loomed.
Two names glowed on the screen across the Academy skyline:
Vaelric Thorne vs Kairon VexTomorrow, at dawn.
Kairon stood alone beneath the stars.
A storm rumbled in the distance.
Inside, something stirred. Bones ached. Thoughts fractured.
And the name he didn't remember whispered again:
God Killer.