The Sovereignty Council Chamber — Morning
The grand hall was a cathedral of light and shadow. High pillars carved with ancient runes stretched into the misted heights, and banners bearing the emblems of allied races hung from the vaulted ceiling.
A somber gathering sat clustered around the great oaken table: representatives from Humans, Elves, Beastkin, Spirits, Dragons — and, conspicuously absent, the Demons.
Lady Reivana Seris presided, her steel-blue gaze sharp as a blade.
"We cannot afford division," she said, voice low but commanding. "Leo's return fractures the balance. The pact with the demon race leaves us vulnerable, but we must stand united — or all fall."
The Elven Matriarch's cold voice cut through the silence. "Trust is a fragile thing, Lady Reivana. How do we command the armies of races who question each other's loyalty?"
A ripple of murmurs spread.
From the shadows, a hooded figure stepped forward — a demi-human whose flawless skin and near-human features masked her true nature. Her eyes glinted with a storm of determination.
"I speak for the Sovereign Class," she said softly. "This fracture is our opportunity — not just to survive, but to rise. The Crimson Class has survived the impossible. They are unstable, yes, but their strength could tip the scales."
Reivana studied her. "You would place the fate of all races in the hands of students?"
"They are more than students," the demi-human replied. "They carry the future in their blood — the future this council has so often feared."
The tension coiled tighter, but beneath it, a current of reluctant hope.
Outside the chamber, eyes watched unseen — cold, calculating. Sovereign Eyes.
The war for the academy, for the continent, was only beginning.
Training Grounds, Crimson Class Sector
The field had changed.
Where once there had been soft grass and open skies, now stood an arena of scorched stone, broken pillars, and reinforced barriers etched with anti-magic runes. It was no longer a place of learning.
It was a battlefield.
Chris slammed into the ground with a grunt, his back scraping across the gravel. Dust exploded outward. Before he could rise, a burst of wind slammed down from above.
CRACK!
A spinning spear of air landed inches from his throat.
He looked up.
A girl hovered in the air — silver hair whipping wildly, her arms extended like wings. Her expression was cold, unreadable.
Sera Aethersong — the temporal instructor for the sovereignty class
And the one who, according to rumors, had mastered Sylphael, the Spirit of Wind — a being said to rival Ignis in raw elemental fury.
"You said you wanted control over Ignis," she said, descending slowly. "Then control it. Because right now… you're nothing but fire without a purpose."
Chris clenched his jaw and stood, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose.
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
From the sidelines, Kira stood with arms crossed, watching. Beside him, Rhea sat quietly, sketching in her notebook as if this were a regular class.
"She's not holding back," Kira muttered.
"She's not supposed to," Rhea replied softly. "Liora brought her in to expose our weaknesses. Chris needs this."
Kira's eyes narrowed. "We all do."
Across the arena, Chris roared, his body bursting into flame. Ignis flared to life — wings of fire spreading behind him, eyes glowing like twin stars.
But Sera didn't flinch.
With one movement, she raised a single hand — and the flames snuffed out.
Chris collapsed, gasping. Every ounce of Ignis's energy had been scattered to the wind.
"You keep fighting like it's personal," Sera said, landing beside him. "But power… doesn't care how you feel."
Then she walked past him.
"You'll learn. Or you'll burn yourself alive."
Crimson Class Dormitory, Later That Night
Kira stood beneath the shower, water running down his face. Not warm. Not cold. Just enough to drown his thoughts.
He remembered Leo's voice. The flicker of that smile.
All kings fall... but not me.
It echoed in the corners of his mind like a curse he couldn't shake.
He slammed a fist into the wall, cracking the tile.
Outside, the night pressed in, heavy with something unspoken.
Observatory Tower, Above the Academy
Liora stood with her arms folded, the wind playing with her crimson coat.
"Report," she said.
A Sovereign agent behind her knelt, bowing.
"Sera has begun tempering the Crimson Class. Chris has already failed the first trial. Kira… remains unreadable. But his synchronization rate with Aqua is climbing."
Liora's eyes flickered with faint interest. "And the others?"
"Yuujin is recovering. Rhea has begun developing her talent at last. The rest are... reactive. Not yet proactive. Still traumatized."
"Good."
Liora stepped forward, looking toward the mountains in the far distance — the place where Leo had vanished after the incident.
"Pressure turns coal to crystal," she murmured. "Or crushes it to dust."
Sovereign Class War Room
Sera sat alone, eyes locked on a glowing map of the continent.
Markers showed tremors near the Demon Wastes. Strange movements. Sightings of shadow beasts that hadn't existed since Leo's fall.
She touched a glowing sigil etched into the glass.
Behind her, the Sovereign Commander entered — a figure robed in black and silver, face hidden behind a mirrored mask.
"You think Leo's movements are connected to the beasts?"
"They weren't here until he returned," she said. "If his power is leaking… if the vessel is unstable…"
"Then we're already late," the Commander said quietly.
Sera stood.
"Then we accelerate the trials. Crimson Class… will be forged in fire."
Rooftop of the Dormitory, That Same Night
Chris stared at the sky.
His knuckles were bruised. His pride more so.
He didn't notice Kira approach, until the latter sat down beside him.
"You okay?" Kira asked.
Chris didn't answer at first.
Then:
"She's right. I don't have control. Not really. It's like… Ignis is punishing me."
Kira looked up at the stars. "Maybe it is."
Chris turned toward him.
"What about you? You seem… calmer."
"I'm not," Kira said simply. "I just hide it better."
A pause.
"You think we're ready?" Chris asked.
Kira closed his eyes.
"No. But we'll have to be."
The wind whispered across the rooftop.
Unseen by both of them, a shadow detached itself from the building's edge and vanished into the night — watching, listening.
Demon Wastes, Unknown Location
A crater.
Massive. Smoking.
The earth was broken.
At the center stood a single figure, body surrounded by a faint silver glow. His clothes were in tatters. His skin pale. His hair longer than before.
Leo stood still, his eyes half-closed, as if waking from a long dream.
Far in the distance, shadows stirred — whispering his name.
He opened his mouth.
And spoke three words:
"Time's almost up."