Night had settled over the camp at Alice Springs, draping the world in a muted silver glow. The air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of nocturnal insects and the faint scent of dew-soaked earth. Among the rows of tents, a shadow moved with careful, almost imperceptible stealth. One figure—slim, deliberate, and cloaked in black—slipped quietly away from his tent, steps soundless on the soft ground.
The figure's target was obvious: Kain Clinton's tent. Though they had never met directly, the man already recognized Kain's presence from earlier observations, and he knew he had to tread carefully. Around him, the other students slept or quietly patrolled in pairs, oblivious to the drama about to unfold.
Kain, however, was not inside his tent. He sat beneath a broad old gum tree, its thick branches stretching upward like arms holding the sky. He rested casually against the trunk, eyes half-closed in a meditative haze.
"This is the perfect opportunity," muttered the figure under his breath, a sly grin spreading across his features. His pace quickened.
This was Blake, a covert agent of the Black Covenant, whose ambition and jealousy had led him to concoct a daring plan. Ever since he had learned that Kain's cultivation had seemingly stalled in a bottleneck, a spark of greed and opportunity had ignited within him.
He crept closer, certain he had the advantage—but just as he reached the tree's shadow, Kain's golden eyes snapped open with startling precision.
The sudden movement froze Blake in his tracks.
"The moon looks especially bright tonight," Kain remarked casually, his tone light but carrying an underlying precision that made Blake's pulse quicken. He had not expected the young prodigy to awaken. This was entirely outside his plan—skipping over what he had considered the crucial "first step" of his scheme.
"I… uh… nothing much, just… enjoying the night," Blake stammered, trying to maintain composure. His mind raced, desperately searching for an excuse that would not betray him.
But Kain's gaze was unyielding. "So you're part of the Black Covenant, then?" he said softly, almost conversationally. Every step he took toward Blake seemed to push him further into a corner.
"Black… what? I don't understand. I'm a soldier, a lawful magician! How could I possibly be part of that?" Blake forced calm into his voice, though sweat had already beaded across his forehead.
Kain didn't answer immediately. Instead, a small, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips, as if he were humoring a child. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, a golden cord—radiant, warm, and humming with magical energy—snaked through the air and wrapped tightly around Blake, restraining him completely.
The cord wasn't a high-tier offensive spell. It didn't burn, nor pierce. Yet it was flawless for its purpose: to control the movement of Blake, a fledgling magician, without harming him. The young soldier struggled, his face reddening with fury.
"How dare you! I'm a soldier! You have no right to bind me like this—even if you are a high-tier mage!" he shouted, straining against the glowing ropes.
Kain's expression remained composed. "Right. But you did try to recruit me into the Black Covenant earlier, didn't you?"
Blake froze, a cold bead of sweat trailing down his temple. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words seemed useless. "I… I didn't! You're lying!"
"I'm not asking for your confession," Kain said lightly, though the golden glow of his cord seemed to pulse with a silent threat. "But everything you say now, and everything you've done, will be recorded."
Blake's mind raced. He had never expected Kain to anticipate his intentions. The thought that every gesture, every word could be used as evidence against him made his heart pound. He forced himself to maintain his act, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't… I was just… I just stepped out for a moment, nothing else! I… I don't know what you mean!"
Meanwhile, golden constellations began to shimmer into existence behind Kain, lighting the camp in a radiant spectacle that rivaled the rising sun. The stars formed intricate patterns, arcs of light that stretched across the sky, pulsating like the heartbeat of a deity.
Blake's jaw dropped. High-tier magic—Kain was serious. His earlier calculations of risk suddenly felt terrifyingly real. And he knew one thing for certain: if his actions tonight were discovered, there would be no mercy.
From another tent, a figure stirred and cursed under his breath. It was Jayce, still half-asleep but immediately blinded by the dazzling brilliance. "What the hell… Who's using high-tier magic in the middle of the night? And why does it look like someone's being… tied up?"
Blake's fear deepened. He realized that this display wasn't just a spectacle—it was evidence. Any attempt at deception would be painfully obvious under the gaze of Kain and Jayce combined.
Suddenly, a rush of wind heralded the arrival of Commander Kane, descending like a living storm. His wind-magic wings fanned the air around him, propelling him forward with speed that made the camp swirl in his wake. His face was grim, and his eyes locked on Kain's actions.
"Kain Clinton, I demand an explanation!" Commander Kane's voice carried over the dazzling glow, stern and commanding.
"Explanation?" Kain feigned annoyance, gesturing with his free hand in a theatrical manner. "Why would I need to explain myself to someone else? You're in fine form to interrogate me, so I suppose it's only fair I return the courtesy!"
Commander Kane's face darkened. He had never been addressed like this in all his years of command. Kain's audacity was almost unbearable. Yet beneath the irritation, he felt the undeniable truth: this young man was not acting recklessly. There was strategy behind every move.
"Calm yourself, Kane," Kain continued, stepping closer. "If Blake has done anything wrong, I will hold him accountable. But right now, everything is transparent—so judge wisely."
Blake's theatrics intensified. With exaggerated sobs and gestures of helplessness, he tried to convince the surrounding soldiers and Kane alike that he was a victim of circumstance. "I swear! I came out just for a walk! Nothing else! I had no idea he would go mad like this! I—"
The soldiers around them murmured in sympathy, uncertain how to act. Even Jayce blinked in astonishment. A simple act of vigilance had somehow escalated into a spectacle implicating the camp's magician hierarchy.
Kain's words finally cut through the chaos, precise and sharp: "Earlier tonight, just as I was preparing to rest, I noticed this fellow sneaking about. When confronted, he tried to entice me with promises from the Black Covenant—resources, power, even alliances. But given that he is merely a fledgling magician, none of it carried credibility. So I declined, of course—but his intent is clear."
The camp fell silent. Every head turned toward Blake, and his facade faltered under the weight of truth.
Commander Kane's stern gaze softened slightly, though suspicion lingered. "If he truly acted improperly, I will ensure proper punishment. But until there is proof, no harm will come to him."
Blake shrieked, desperately claiming innocence, but even as he did, he knew the tide had turned. The carefully laid plans of the Black Covenant operative had been caught in full view, and there was no escaping the scrutiny of Kain Clinton.
"And if you still doubt?" Kain's voice dropped, carrying a subtle chill. "High-tier psychic investigation is available. Jayce can verify everything."
Blake's eyes widened, the reality of his predicament sinking in. He had gambled—and lost. Tonight, there would be no escape.