The Longest Night Of The Year

Five seconds.

It was all the time it took for the black fangs, who had rushed in first, to turn into blood clots and collapse to the floor.

Naturally, given the circumstances, the remaining members of the Black Fang couldn't help but feel something was wrong.

"W-what the hell is that guy…?"

"Is that really Zane?"

"He's majoring in the clergy? Um, so he's an aspiring clergyman right?"

"Hey, there's definitely no such thing as physical strengthening magic, right?"

Wizards and clerics were relatively weak in physical combat.

That statement was mostly true. Magicians and priests who grew up in hothouses like the Holy Academy had no need or reason to train in martial arts.

But Zane had a very different idea of what a black magician should be.

Those who walked the path of the black magician became immediate targets of the Holy Church's 'purification.'

Paladins and priests pursued them day and night.

Physical strength and martial arts were essential for surviving against them.

Evading pursuit, robbing corpses, breaking through sieges, and conjuring magic circles—during these processes, the only thing protecting the warlock was the warlock himself.

Zane, who had survived this chaos in his previous life, had honed his martial arts to the point where he could subdue any knight without using mana.

He looked at the two cadets rushing toward him.

From behind, Melverick's voice rang out.

"Take him all at once! There's something off about this kid!"

But this time, Zane didn't react much.

He merely kicked one of the wooden blocks on the floor, sending it flying.

The cadet in the lead ducked down to avoid the block.

"This kid has been acting so cowardly all this time!"

But before his eyes, he saw Zane's knee flying up toward his face.

*Crack!* *Thud, thud, thud!*

The cadet's jaw was struck by the knee, twisting sharply.

Blood gushed from his broken nose and mouth like a fountain.

Seeing their friend collapse in the very position he had been running from, the other cadets halted one by one.

"…"

"…"

"…"

If they charged recklessly, they would meet the same fate.

Fear settled in as soon as they realized it.

Zane leisurely scanned the frightened cadets.

"Next. Hurry up."

Playing with these young children reminded him of the old days.

An eternal truth he had learned in his childhood while running through battlefields:

In the hell left behind by war, valuable things remained.

And the most valuable, no matter what anyone said, were defeated soldiers.

One day, while wandering the battlefield, Zane had come across a defeated soldier with both legs severed.

He didn't remember the soldier's name, but he still recalled the face clearly.

It was the general depicted on a flyer that read, 'This war is a holy war. Therefore, we will win. God protects us.'

A noble knight who had led the vanguard of the war and boasted of being undefeated.

When the knight saw Zane, he desperately tried to flee.

*Smack.*

When Zane stood in front of him, the knight began to beg.

"I'll give you a million gold if you take me back to my territory. No! I'll give you even more than that! I'll receive a commendation and a medal from the country! You'll get a house, okay? Please…!"

The knight vomited blood as he shook.

But as usual, Zane quietly stabbed the dull knife in his right hand into the knight's neck.

And in return, he took the clothes the knight had been wearing.

'Well, anyway,' he thought.

In the hell of war, only one rule applied: the man who was afraid lost everything.

It didn't matter if he was a hero, a king, or an orphan.

* * *

*Thump, thump, thump.*

In the gym warehouse, only the footsteps of one person and the groans of the others could be heard.

Melverick, left alone, sat trembling on the floor.

He watched Zane approach him.

"M-monster… monster..."

Melverick sat down and slowly crawled backward.

In his field of vision, his friends lay on the ground, groaning in pain.

The Black Fang members were all rolling around, their arms, legs, and faces broken.

And now it was his turn.

*Thump.*

Melverick's back hit the wall.

There was nowhere else to run.

The pure white moonlight streamed through the window.

Because of that, he couldn't see Zane properly as he approached.

Finally, Melverick spoke in desperation.

"Don't hit me. Please… I'll die if you hit me like that, okay? Please, spare me. I've never even been hit by my dad before. Please…"

But Zane's expression was unreadable, hidden in the shadows.

Only his two eyes, glowing strangely red, reflected the moonlight as they fixed on Melverick.

Zane's voice finally broke the silence.

"Once you bite, you won't let go?"

"…What?"

Melverick naturally began speaking in honorifics, realizing that Zane was repeating the same words he had spoken earlier.

Before Melverick could respond, Zane continued.

"I'm here."

It was Lunastium, the longest night of the year.

They had a very long night ahead of them.

Perhaps it would remain in someone's memory for a lifetime.

Zane stood still for a moment, his figure bathed in moonlight, towering over Melverick, who was trembling at his feet.

The cold, unwavering gaze of the warlock was locked on the pitiful sight before him. Melverick's ragged breaths echoed in the stillness, and the air felt heavy with the weight of his impending fate.

Zane crouched down slowly, his eyes never leaving the terrified cadet.

"Do you understand now?" Zane asked, his voice low, nearly a whisper, but laced with an eerie calm.

Melverick whimpered, clutching his chest as if trying to shield himself from an inevitable blow. His lips trembled as he struggled to find words, but all he could muster was a weak, "P-please... I-I didn't mean to..."

Zane tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Didn't mean to? You and your pathetic group of children attacked me, thinking you could handle what you didn't understand."

"I-I... we were... w-we thought..." Melverick stammered, tears brimming in his eyes, realizing just how foolish he and his gang had been.

Zane rose again, his shadow looming over the cowering cadet.

"You're lucky I don't take lives as casually as you think. If I did, you'd be a corpse right now, Melverick," Zane said, his voice even, devoid of malice but far more terrifying for its cold indifference.

The mention of his name sent a shiver through Melverick, reminding him that Zane knew exactly who he was. This wasn't some random stranger; Zane had studied him and all his weaknesses. Melverick gulped, his body frozen with fear.

Zane turned slightly, glancing at the fallen members of the Black Fang strewn across the floor, groaning in agony.

"You'll remember this night. All of you will." Zane's voice was calm but carried a weight of finality. "When you crawl back to your little dens, licking your wounds, you'll remember who it was that spared you. The next time you think of raising your fists against me or anyone like me, I suggest you think twice."

Zane's words settled into the air like a thick fog, suffocating what little hope Melverick had left. Slowly, Zane turned his back on the trembling cadet, giving him one last chance at life.

But as Zane began to walk away, Melverick, in his desperation and fear, grabbed a broken plank from the floor. His mind, clouded by panic, screamed at him to take a shot at survival, no matter how reckless it was.

He lunged at Zane's back.

In one fluid motion, without even turning around, Zane's arm lashed out, catching Melverick by the wrist mid-air. The force of the grip sent a sharp jolt through Melverick's arm, and the plank clattered to the ground.

Zane slowly looked over his shoulder, his eyes burning with a soft red glow.

"I warned you."

Before Melverick could comprehend what had happened, Zane's knee slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Melverick collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, his hands clutching his abdomen in sheer agony.

Zane looked down at him, his expression devoid of any emotion.

"This time, you'll stay down," he said coldly.

With that, Zane left the gym warehouse, his silhouette disappearing into the night, leaving behind a broken Melverick and the groaning remnants of the Black Fang.

The night outside was silent, with only the distant rustling of the wind through the trees.

And as the full moon illuminated the grounds of the Holy Academy, Zane felt a cold sense of detachment settle over him.