Night at the academy was never truly dark.
Mana lamps glowed softly along the corridors, and protective formations pulsed beneath the stone like a second heartbeat. To most students, this place was safer than any city.
That was exactly why it felt wrong.
I lay awake on my bed, eyes half-open, breathing slow. The room was silent—too silent. Even the usual hum of mana felt muted, as if something was smothering it.
The blade beside me stirred.
"Warning."
I moved instantly.
A thin spike of black mana pierced the mattress where my head had been a moment earlier—silent, precise, deadly.
I rolled to my feet as the shadows in the corner peeled away from the wall.
A figure stepped forward.
No presence.
No killing intent leaking outward.
A professional assassin.
"So you're awake," the figure said quietly, voice distorted. "Good."
I didn't reply.
I grabbed the desk and shoved it forward just as the assassin vanished—reappearing behind me in a flicker of warped space.
Too slow.
I pivoted, barely avoiding a blade aimed for my throat. The edge hummed with suppression runes, designed to cripple mana and shatter souls.
Not meant for students.
The window exploded outward as I kicked the assassin back, triggering the academy's perimeter wards. Alarms began to scream faintly in the distance—but not close enough.
They had planned this well.
"Tch," the assassin muttered. "Special Observation really is a problem."
So it was ordered.
The blade pulsed.
"Limited reinforcement available."
"Enough," I whispered.
Shadow Reinforcement flowed through my limbs—not power, not dominance—just clarity. My movements sharpened. My timing tightened.
The assassin lunged again.
I stepped inside their range, struck their wrist, twisted, and slammed them into the wall. Stone cracked under the impact.
They recovered instantly, spinning low, blade slicing toward my legs.
I jumped, grabbed their shoulder mid-motion, and drove them into the floor.
Hard.
They coughed, struggling.
Before they could react, a rune flared on the side of their neck.
A silence seal.
Suicide.
"No," I said calmly.
I pressed my palm against the rune and forced mana into it—wrong mana. The seal shattered in a burst of sparks.
The assassin froze.
Shock filled their eyes.
"That's impossible," they whispered. "You're not trained—"
"I've died once already," I replied. "You think this scares me?"
Heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor.
Instructors.
The assassin laughed weakly. "It doesn't matter. Others will come."
"I'm counting on it," I said.
The door burst open as instructors flooded the room, weapons ready.
The blue-eyed instructor stopped short when she saw the assassin alive, pinned beneath my foot.
Her gaze snapped to me.
"You disrupted a silence seal," she said quietly.
"Yes."
Silence followed.
The assassin was dragged away, restraints snapping into place.
As the room emptied, the silver-haired instructor lingered at the doorway.
"This academy is no longer neutral ground for you," he said. "Sleep lightly."
I nodded.
"I always do."
The door closed.
I sat back down on the bed, staring at the cracked wall and shattered window.
The blade whispered.
"They have acknowledged you as a threat."
I smiled faintly.
"Good," I murmured.
Because when night itself tries to kill you—
It means you're walking the right path.