The sky above the Mystical Academy burned with a crimson hue. The barrier that protected the grounds flickered, its light trembling like a candle in a storm. The once-peaceful training fields were painted with blood; broken swords and shattered formations littered the earth.
Students screamed, not from fear but from desperation.
They fought with everything they had.
The intruders—seven men dressed in pitch-black cloaks—moved like shadows, their killing intent thick enough to choke the air. Their leader, a Tier-4 Peak cultivator, wielded a long scythe made of obsidian flame. His eyes glowed faint red behind the mask.
"Kill them all," he said softly. His voice carried no emotion, just cold purpose. "No witnesses."
One of the students, barely sixteen, raised his trembling sword. "You won't touch the Academy!"
A blur of black light crossed the air.
The boy's sword shattered.
The next instant—so did his arm.
He screamed as blood splattered the ground, and the intruder moved to deliver the final blow—
—and then froze.
A ripple spread through the air.
Every cultivator on the battlefield—friend and foe—felt it.
It was like the world itself inhaled.
The heavens paused.
Wind reversed direction, trees bent backward, and every spiritual formation in the Academy activated on its own, humming in fear. From the distant mountains to the lowest valley, the spiritual beasts howled in submission.
A golden light descended.
The black-cloaked intruder turned, eyes narrowing. "What is—"
He never finished.
A blinding flash split the sky, and the next instant his body exploded into a mist of blood.
No sound. No impact. Just erasure.
When the light faded, a figure hovered above the academy, his robe fluttering like a banner of divine wrath. His eyes shone brilliant gold, his aura so vast that even Tier-4 cultivators felt like insects beneath his gaze.
"Who dares to slaughter students of my Academy?" his voice thundered—calm, controlled, yet echoing with divine resonance.
The students looked up.
For a heartbeat, no one breathed.
Then someone whispered, voice shaking, "...Kael?"
The name spread like wildfire through the survivors.
"Kael... he's alive..."
"Impossible... he died in the trial..."
"Is it really him?"
The figure descended slowly, light dimming around him. His feet touched the ground without sound, yet the earth itself rippled beneath his presence. His hair glowed faintly gold, eyes calm but sharp enough to cut through lies and fear.
Kael looked around—the blood, the corpses, the terrified faces.
His voice, when he spoke again, was quiet. "You dare kill my people?"
The intruders froze. The remaining six pulled back instinctively, their leader—the Tier-4 Peak assassin—snarling as he swung his scythe.
"Don't think just because you have aura tricks that you can scare me, boy!"
Kael turned his golden gaze toward him. "Boy?"
The air cracked.
In a single step, Kael vanished. The intruder blinked—then screamed as his scythe arm disintegrated into dust. Before the limb even hit the ground, Kael appeared behind him, hand raised lazily.
"You were saying?"
The man turned, roaring, aura erupting in black flame. "You'll pay for—"
Kael raised his palm. "Silence."
A golden ripple burst outward. The man's aura shattered like glass. The black flames vanished, and his body convulsed before exploding into mist.
No bones. No trace. Only the smell of burned space.
The other intruders panicked. One turned to run—but the sky bent, and a wave of spiritual pressure crushed him mid-air.
Kael walked forward slowly, every step echoing with quiet authority. "When you kill innocents, do you ever think of mercy?"
He stopped beside a girl who had fallen to her knees, trembling and bleeding. "Stand," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. A soft golden light healed her wounds instantly.
The students watched, stunned.
He was different. The Kael they once knew was calm, sarcastic, sometimes awkward.
This Kael was something else—calm like still water, but terrifying beneath the surface.
The last surviving intruder screamed and charged, his blade gleaming with desperate energy. "You can't kill me! Do you know who sent us?!"
Kael tilted his head slightly. "Tell me."
The intruder grinned wickedly. "Even if you kill me, they will come for you. You've angered people beyond your comprehension—"
Kael's golden aura flared. "You talk too much."
The intruder's sword melted in his hand. He fell to his knees, choking as invisible force gripped his throat.
"Who sent you?" Kael asked again, voice like steel wrapped in calm.
The intruder spat blood. "You're messing with the wrong people! The ones who rule the—"
His body froze mid-sentence. Kael's eyes narrowed. A sigil glowed on the man's forehead—a soul-seal, designed to destroy him if he revealed the truth.
Kael frowned. "Soul-lock technique..."
The man screamed once more before his body collapsed into ash.
Kael sighed softly. "So, they're already moving."
He turned his gaze upward. His golden eyes flickered, seeing beyond the clouds, beyond the realm's veil. For a moment, he could feel them—the distant gaze of the gods, faint but unmistakable.
"Watching again, are you?" he murmured. "You'll have your turn."
He then looked back at the terrified students. Many were crying, whispering his name like a prayer. The Academy courtyard glowed faintly from the residual energy of his aura.
Kael's expression softened. He raised his hand slightly, and the shattered barrier re-formed, glowing with stronger light than before. The students gasped as they felt the surge of protective energy.
"From this day," Kael said, his voice echoing across the grounds, "no one touches the Academy again. Not while I stand."
The golden light pulsed once, sinking into the walls, sealing them with his mark.
The youngest student, still trembling, stepped forward. "S-Senior Kael... are you... really alive?"
Kael smiled faintly. "Alive enough."
His aura dimmed slightly, returning him to a calmer, almost human state. But everyone could feel it—the power underneath was immeasurable, restrained only by his will.
One of the instructors, wounded but conscious, staggered forward. "Kael... we thought you were gone. What... what happened in the Abyss?"
Kael looked away for a moment, the faintest flicker of emotion passing through his eyes. "I saw what I needed to see," he said simply. "And I came back because this world still needs me."
He turned toward the blood-stained horizon. "But it seems peace is an illusion."
The surviving students bowed deeply, tears falling freely. For them, he wasn't just a savior—he was a miracle. The return of a legend they thought had perished.
Kael began to rise into the air again, golden aura swirling around him like a storm restrained by will alone. "Rebuild the Academy," he said. "Train harder. Because war is coming."
He glanced toward the far north—toward the divine realms that stirred restlessly. "And when it comes... we won't be the ones running."
He shot into the sky, leaving behind trails of golden light that split the clouds apart.
Below, the students and instructors knelt, some in reverence, others in disbelief.
The young girl he saved whispered softly, almost like a prayer.
"He's really back... Kael is back."