Chapter 8 – The True Enemy

Silvercrest Academy – The Shadow Arena

Ronan's hands still burned from the battle, his breath ragged.

The shadow beast was gone, reduced to nothing but dissipating mist, yet its presence still clung to the air. Thick. Electric. It wasn't just exhaustion coursing through his veins—it was power.

A power that didn't belong to him.

Selene stood a few feet away, watching him with narrowed violet eyes, her daggers still gripped tightly.

She saw it too.

Kael exhaled, rolling his shoulders as if none of this surprised him. "Training?" he mused. "No. That was a test. And you passed."

Ronan wiped the blood from his lip, forcing his body to steady itself. "A test for what?"

Kael's smirk widened. "To see if you were ready for the truth."

And then, the world shifted.

The black mist of the Shadow Arena peeled away like a veil, revealing…

A buried temple.

---

Massive stone pillars stretched into darkness, their surfaces etched with symbols that hummed with energy—power that pulsed in time with Ronan's own.

The walls were carved with murals, but not of werewolves, vampires, or any known supernatural race. These creatures were different.

Long-limbed, hollow-eyed, monstrous.

Predators.

Selene inhaled sharply. "This place… shouldn't exist."

Kael glanced at her. "And yet, here we are."

Ronan ran his fingers along the stone, his pulse syncing with the energy beneath his fingertips. He didn't recognize these creatures. But something inside him did.

A strange whisper curled at the edges of his mind. Familiar. Inviting.

Selene turned to Kael, her voice lower now. "You said the Forsaken were hunted because they could kill things like this. What exactly are they?"

Kael's smirk faded.

"They were the first."

Ronan frowned. "The first what?"

Kael's silver eyes gleamed in the dim light. "The first rulers of this world. Before werewolves. Before vampires. Before demons."

He gestured to the largest mural—a grotesque monstrous figure standing atop a mountain of corpses, its body cloaked in tendrils of living darkness.

"They were the Old Bloods."

And deep inside him, something shifted.

The power in his veins—the thing that wasn't his, the thing he had been fighting to control—recognized this place.

Like it had been waiting for him to return.

---

Selene's expression darkened. "If the Old Bloods ruled first, what happened to them?"

Kael didn't turn from the mural.

"They were overthrown."

His voice was quieter now, almost reverent.

"The supernatural world as we know it? It was built on their corpses. The first werewolves, the first vampires, the first mages—they weren't born. They were created to destroy the Old Bloods."

Ronan clenched his jaw. "And the Forsaken?"

Kael's silver eyes flicked toward him. "They weren't an accident. They were a weapon."

Ronan exhaled sharply.

The Forsaken weren't just outcasts.

They were designed.

Made with power that could kill even the most unkillable things.

Selene folded her arms. "And when the war ended…?"

Kael's smirk returned, but there was no humor in it. "The victors turned on their own creations. The Forsaken became too powerful. Too uncontrollable. The same supernatural rulers who created them decided they needed to be erased."

Ronan's throat tightened.

He wasn't just a rogue.

He was the last of a bloodline that wasn't supposed to exist.

---

A deep rumble vibrated through the temple, shaking the walls.

Selene immediately unsheathed her daggers. "Tell me that's not normal."

Kael turned toward the center of the temple, where an ornate stone platform sat. Strange runes glowed along its surface, pulsing with deep crimson light.

Ronan's body moved before his mind could process why.

Something inside him recognized this place. Called to it.

He stepped forward, drawn toward the platform.

"Ronan, wait—" Selene grabbed his wrist, but the moment his foot touched the first step—

The entire temple came alive.

A pulse of crimson energy exploded from the platform, wrapping around him.

The carvings on the walls shifted, the figures inside them turning their hollow eyes toward him.

And then—

A voice.

"You have returned."

It slammed into his skull, a foreign yet familiar presence.

His vision blurred.

Memories that weren't his flashed behind his eyes—battles waged under blood moons, creatures made of shadow and bone, warriors wielding powers far beyond anything he had known.

"You are the last of us."

"You are the key."

"And they will come for you."

Then—

Silence.

The power released him.

Ronan collapsed onto the platform, his body trembling.

Selene was at his side in an instant, gripping his arm. "Ronan. What the hell just happened?"

His breathing was ragged.

But deep inside him, something had changed.

He wasn't just unlocking his power anymore.

It was awakening on its own.

And for the first time since his betrayal, since he had clawed his way back from death—

He was afraid.

---

Before Ronan could speak, a sharp whistle echoed through the temple.

Kael's expression darkened. "Well. That's unfortunate timing."

Ronan pushed himself up, still feeling the aftershock of the power surge. "What now?"

Kael's smirk was gone. "We have company."

The torches along the walls flickered as footsteps echoed down the corridors.

Then—

The entrance exploded inward.

A dozen black-cloaked figures flooded the temple, their silver blades gleaming under the blood-red glow of the carvings.

The Moon Reapers.

At their center stood the same man from before—the Reaper Commander with silver-streaked hair and piercing green eyes.

His expression remained unreadable as he tilted his head, studying Ronan with something between wariness and intrigue.

"You've been busy."

Ronan clenched his fists, power still thrumming beneath his skin. "What can I say? I don't die easy."

The commander exhaled. "No. You don't."

Then he stepped forward.

"Which is why I'm here to fix that."

His hand lifted.

"Kill him."

---

The Reapers rushed forward.

Selene vanished into the shadows, reappearing behind one of them, her dagger flashing across his throat.

Kael barely moved, letting the darkness around him swallow two attackers whole.

But Ronan—

Ronan didn't dodge.

He didn't even try to run.

Instead, he let the power inside him surge.

A Reaper lunged, blade aimed for his heart.

Ronan caught it mid-air, the silver burning into his palm—but he didn't flinch.

Instead, he smiled.

And then, with inhuman strength, he shattered the blade in his grasp.

The Reaper's eyes went wide with horror.

Ronan exhaled.

And let his new power explode.

The entire temple shook.

Shadows and crimson energy erupted from his body, sending half the Reapers flying.

For a brief moment, everything was silent.

Then—

The Reaper Commander smiled.

"Now that," he murmured, stepping forward, "is interesting."

Ronan met his gaze.

He knew, deep in his bones—

This was only the beginning.

---