"What is this situation?" Magnus muttered under his breath, massaging his temples as he struggled to process the events at Vyrndall.
An unprecedented assault on the city by two cults acting in unison had nearly overrun the professors stationed there. The students might have faced certain death if not for one unexpected factor: Arthur Nightingale.
Arthur had nearly single-handedly taken down an Ascendant-ranker. While Lucifer, Ren, and the others had joined the fray, their contributions, though valiant, were ultimately inconsequential against an enemy of such magnitude, even if that Ascendant-ranker was on the lower end of the spectrum. And yet, Arthur had managed to win.
But perhaps even more troubling than his victory was what followed. Upon their return to the Academy, the Class A students, wielding all the weight of their royal influence, demanded that Arthur be placed in isolation within a secure building—one designed to hold even an Ascendant-ranker. The Academy, faced with the unyielding insistence of these students, had little choice but to comply.
Now, Magnus found himself walking toward that building, intent on understanding what had truly transpired with Arthur Nightingale.
Magnus opened the door, its surface etched with complex defensive arrays that hummed with latent energy. Inside, he found Arthur seated, staring blankly at the stark white wall as if lost in some distant, unreachable thought. At the sound of Magnus's entrance, Arthur's gaze shifted, his azure eyes meeting the Martial King's with a sharp intensity that sent a prickle down Magnus's spine.
Magnus Draykar was no stranger to dangerous men. He had faced opponents with unimaginable power, learned to gauge their strength and intentions with a glance. But now, looking at Arthur, he sensed something that went beyond raw talent or physical prowess. There was an unsettling edge to Arthur, a subtle, unyielding aura that felt like the calm before a storm—a sense of danger coiled and waiting.
Arthur's power was still leagues below his own, far from the heights of someone who had crossed the Wall. But in those azure eyes, Magnus glimpsed a lethal determination that made him pause, a warning that this boy was no longer the promising student he had once known.
Magnus's voice broke the silence. "What are you?"
Arthur's lips curved into a thin, almost mechanical smile. "As sharp as ever, Martial King," he replied, his words calm, his tone betraying none of the warmth he once held.
Magnus's unease grew. There was something chilling in Arthur's smile, something hollow.
"Answer my question," Magnus said, his eyes narrowing as he fixed his gaze on Arthur.
Arthur tilted his head, a faint smirk crossing his lips. "You aren't worthy of that answer," he replied coolly. "But don't worry—I don't plan on occupying this body for long. It's simply taking him a bit longer to… adjust than I'd anticipated."
Magnus's jaw tightened. "And what will you do until then?"
Arthur's expression remained unreadable, his voice measured. "I intend to visit the Ashbluffs' isolation chamber. For however long it takes to achieve Sword Resonance."
Magnus looked at him with suspicion, the weight of his gaze like iron. "And you expect an allowed absence from the academy for this… retreat?"
Arthur nodded. "Exactly. If I'm to do what's necessary, I'll need that time undisturbed."
Magnus's brow furrowed. "Do you truly believe the academy will accommodate such a request?"
Arthur's smirk returned, sharper, colder. "You'll have no choice. After all, am I not the single greatest talent in this world?"
The words dripped with arrogance, a confidence that would border on absurdity if not for the weight behind them. Magnus felt the truth in them, however uncomfortable it was. While it was yet to be seen if Arthur surpassed Jack, he certainly eclipsed Lucifer Windward—and not by a small margin.
"And will Arthur return?" Magnus pressed, watching him closely.
"Yes," Arthur replied, nodding. "If he achieves Sword Resonance, he can reclaim this body. But don't waste your questions on him; he knows nothing of what I do."
Magnus met his gaze, feeling both unsettled and intrigued. Whoever—or whatever—was before him carried a gravity far beyond the young man he'd once taught.
"Do me a favor and bring the people closest to Arthur here," he said, waving Magnus off with an air of casual authority. "And pass me my phone."
Magnus bristled at the command. This behavior...it was jarring. Arthur—or rather, whatever entity had taken residence within him—held himself with a superiority that felt entirely unfamiliar. It was in his tone, his bearing, the way he gestured as if the very space around him were his to command. Magnus was not accustomed to being dismissed so easily, especially by a student, yet he knew there was no sense in challenging this entity, not if it meant risking Arthur's body.
With a nod, Magnus turned and exited, his mind spinning. Outside the room, he sent a message, summoning the Class A students. As they filed toward him, he caught their curious, concerned glances. They had all noticed something was wrong—how could they not? But none of them truly understood what they were about to face.
Magnus gathered them close, his voice low and measured. "Listen carefully. Arthur's…not entirely himself right now. Whoever's in control, it's not the Arthur you know, and I don't want any of you doing anything rash. Just hear him out."
Rachel looked up, eyes full of worry. "Is he safe? Is he in danger?"
Magnus hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "Yes. But he claims he'll allow Arthur to return…in time. So be cautious, but go in. He's expecting you."
With that, he led them to the door, hesitating only a moment before he opened it.
Magnus remained at the door, watchful, while Arthur's cyan eyes swept over the seven students with an unsettling detachment, as if he were sizing up objects rather than people. The silence weighed heavy until he muttered something under his breath, then spoke up with a trace of amusement.
"Relax," he said, his tone dispassionate. "Arthur should be back in control of this body by the end of the year."
"What?" Cecilia's voice rose in alarm. "The end of the year? That's far too long!"
Arthur leaned forward, a mocking edge in his smile. "Then blame him. That's how long it'll take him to reach Sword Resonance—assuming he can pull it off by then. I'm estimating, of course. He could surprise us and be faster."
The others exchanged uneasy glances as Arthur continued, "Until then, I'll be using the Ashbluffs' isolation chamber. None of you need worry—I know I'm not exactly a welcome guest here, especially among you three," he said, his gaze lingering on the girls, his expression both cold and dismissive.
Rachel's eyes narrowed. "If Arthur's still in there, how can we be sure he's safe?"
Arthur's gaze flicked to her, something akin to mild irritation crossing his face. "He's as safe as he can be. If he weren't, I'd hardly be taking the time to chat with you. Consider yourselves lucky, actually—I'm not here to cause trouble for any of you."
Seraphina stepped forward, her voice steady but laced with suspicion. "And what do you plan to do while you're…waiting for Arthur to return?"
Arthur shrugged, as if the answer were painfully obvious. "Exactly what he would do, of course. Train. To be exact, train him and make him stronger." He glanced at Magnus, who held his gaze with a steady, wary look. "You'll ensure that the academy knows of my absence. I'll be gone long enough that I'd rather not have anyone poking around."
Magnus nodded reluctantly, feeling a responsibility he didn't fully understand yet weighing on him. The others remained tense, as though waiting for something—some sign that their friend was truly still present. But Arthur's manner, his tone, the faintly mocking glint in his eyes…they were not the Arthur they knew.
"If any of you have other concerns, speak now," Arthur said with a hint of impatience. "Because once I'm in isolation, I won't be interrupted."
The students stayed silent, conflicted emotions clouding their faces. Finally, Rachel spoke, her voice a mixture of defiance and resignation. "Fine. Just…make sure Arthur comes back to us."
Arthur's cold smile softened by a fraction, though it held no warmth. "If he's capable enough to reach Resonance, he will. For now, focus on yourselves—your own limitations are far greater than his."
Without another word, he turned away, leaving them standing in a tense silence that settled like dust in his wake. Magnus held the door open for the others, their expressions dark as they filed out. In the corridor, he turned to them one last time.
"Give him time," he said quietly. "If he can pull through, Arthur will be stronger for it. But we don't interfere unless absolutely necessary."