The cafeteria still buzzed long after the arena circle had been cleared.
Three Class D students limping out of the lunch hall wasn't an everyday sight—especially when the one standing over them came from Class F and had "no affinity" stamped on his public record.
By the time Nicolas finally ate, he could feel the stares from every direction. Class F students eyed him with a mix of awe and caution. Higher-class students measured him like they were deciding whether he was a fluke or a threat.
And from the second-floor balcony above the hall… someone was watching very closely.
The rest of the afternoon classes passed in a blur. Nicolas's mind kept replaying the fight—not just the victory, but the way his Heavenly-Witch System had responded. That smoky rune circle… it had been subtle, but clearly visible to anyone with sharp enough eyes.
They'll think it's just some strange skill, he told himself. Plenty of cultivators have weird tricks. I just have to keep it vague.
When the dismissal bell rang, Nicolas slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the dorms.
He didn't make it.
A sharp voice cut through the hallway noise.
"Nicolas Dreyar. Stop."
He turned. Four students in pristine white coats trimmed with gold blocked the corridor. The emblem on their chests—a lotus cradling a crown—was instantly recognizable.
Heavenly-SSG.
The one in front, a tall boy with icy blue eyes, stepped forward. Nicolas recognized him from the Blessing Day stage: Auren Vey, First Captain of the Supreme Student Guardians.
"You'll come with us," Auren said flatly.
Nicolas hesitated. "Is there a reason?"
Auren's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll find out."
They flanked him as they walked, their presence heavy enough to make passing students press themselves against the walls. The Heavenly-SSG rarely involved themselves directly with lower-class students unless there was a disciplinary issue… or something worth their personal interest.
They climbed a spiraling stairwell that led to the upper balcony wing—an area Nicolas had never been allowed into. The hallways here were wider, lit by tall windows overlooking the central courtyard. Tapestries of past champions lined the walls, each one bearing names that had gone on to rule sects or command armies.
Auren pushed open a double door, revealing a spacious chamber furnished more like a council room than anything school-related. A long table occupied the center, and seated along its sides were the remaining members of the Heavenly-SSG.
They all looked older—third and fourth-year students with an air of authority sharpened by countless battles.
At the far end of the table sat a girl with jet-black hair tied high, her eyes like polished obsidian. She didn't speak, but the way the others subtly deferred to her told Nicolas she was the real leader here.
Auren took the seat nearest to her. "Nicolas Dreyar. Class F. No recorded affinity. And yet…" He glanced at a paper in front of him. "In less than twenty-four hours, you've defeated Garron of Class F and three Class D opponents in an unofficial arena match."
Murmurs rippled through the table.
"That's… unusual," one of them said.
"More than unusual," another added. "Impossible for someone with no Qi manipulation at all."
Auren's gaze locked on Nicolas. "So tell us—what exactly did you do?"
Nicolas kept his face neutral. "I fought. I adapted. Maybe they underestimated me."
"That's not an answer," said a broad-shouldered boy two seats down. His knuckles rapped against the table. "We've seen strange techniques before, but what you used… it wasn't cultivation."
"That circle under your feet," another SSG member said sharply. "Those runes weren't from any sect technique I've studied. And we've all studied plenty."
The black-haired girl finally spoke, her voice calm but cutting. "We're not here to accuse you, Nicolas. We're here to understand. This academy was founded to produce the strongest cultivators in the continent. When someone arrives with… something else… we have to evaluate the risk."
Nicolas met her eyes, forcing his voice steady. "I don't know what to tell you. Maybe I was blessed in a way that didn't register with the orb. Maybe it's just some… family trick. Whatever it is, it's not dangerous to the school."
Her head tilted slightly, as if weighing his words.
Auren leaned forward. "Family trick?"
"Yeah." Nicolas shrugged lightly, as if the whole thing bored him. "My grandfather taught me some… binding techniques. They're not flashy, but they can throw off an opponent's balance. I used them. That's all."
It was close enough to the truth to sound believable—and far enough from the real truth to keep the system safe.
The SSG members exchanged glances. Some looked unconvinced. Others seemed willing to let it go—for now.
The black-haired girl spoke again. "We'll be watching you, Nicolas. Not because we want to harm you… but because power that doesn't fit into the cultivation world tends to attract unwanted attention."
"From who?" Nicolas asked, though he already suspected the answer.
"From everyone," she said simply.
Auren stood. "You can go. But remember—this academy rewards the strong, and exposes the weak. If you're hiding something dangerous… it will come out."
Nicolas inclined his head, then turned and left the chamber. The heavy doors shut behind him with a final thud.
The hallway outside felt colder. He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders to release the tension.
They're suspicious already.
He'd dodged their questions this time, but the Heavenly-SSG weren't fools. If he kept using the runes openly, sooner or later they'd press harder—and he wasn't sure if "family trick" would work twice.
Back in his dorm, Nicolas collapsed into the chair by his desk. The Heavenly-Witch System interface shimmered faintly in his vision, as if it had been listening the whole time.
[New Passive Quest: Under the Upper Balcony's Gaze]
Objective: Avoid revealing Witchcraft origins to the Heavenly-SSG for 30 days
Reward: +200 EXP, Unlocked Feature – Arcane Library
Failure: Loss of 1 Skill Tree Tier, -50 Reputation (All Classes)
Nicolas rubbed his temples. "Great. Another tightrope to walk."
That night, the courtyard outside his window glowed with lantern light. Students moved between dorms and training fields, laughter and sparring shouts mixing in the air.
From the far balcony of the main hall, he caught sight of Auren standing alone, arms folded, staring down at the students like a hawk scanning for prey.
Even from a distance, Nicolas could feel the weight of his gaze.
The slow burn had begun.