The maintenance elevator ground to a halt with a rusted shriek.
The iron grate slid open, leaving Kael standing in the pitch-black corridor of the academy’s lower holding pens.
It was entirely too quiet.
Maintenance duty was supposed to be loud—the sounds of low-rank beasts thrashing against iron bars, the clatter of feeding troughs.
But the silence down here was thick and heavy.
Kael stepped out of the elevator, his boots crunching against the stone.
He held a heavy iron maintenance scraper in one hand and dug a piece of flint from his pocket with the other.
He struck it against the scraper.
A spark flared, casting brief, erratic shadows against the walls.
The cages lining the corridor were wide open.
A low, wet snarl echoed from the dark.
Kael’s Faster Brain didn’t wait for panic.
It immediately mapped his exit route.
But before he could turn, a massive shape erupted from the shadows.
Claws struck the stone where Kael’s head had been a fraction of a second earlier.
He dove, rolling across the filthy floor as a Grave-Stalker—a C-rank quadruped built of matted fur, exposed bone plating, and pure muscle—crashed into the wall.
Run.
Kael scrambled to his feet and sprinted down the narrow corridor, diving behind a reinforced structural pillar.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
He had a rusted scraper, an F-rank mana pool, and zero armor.
If that thing pinned him, Pain Resistance would only ensure he stayed conscious while it ate him.
He needed an angle.
He needed a weapon.
Three floors up, the infirmary smelled of sterile herbs and bleached linen.
Sebastian lay propped up on a cot, a thick layer of white bandages wrapped tightly around his dislocated shoulder.
When the door clicked open, he looked up, ready to snap at the healer.
Instead, Mori walked in.
Sebastian’s posture instantly changed.
He sat up straighter, a furious blush creeping up his neck as he realized his chest was bare.
He shot a frantic glare at the two C-rank sycophants hovering near his bed.
“Get out,” Sebastian snapped.
The goons didn’t need to be told twice.
They scurried past Mori, closing the heavy wooden door behind them.
Sebastian forced his signature, charming smile, though it looked strained against his pale face.
“Mori.
I didn’t expect you to come check on me.
It looks worse than it is, really.
The F-rank just got a lucky—”
Mori didn’t stop at the foot of the bed.
She walked right up to his side, leaned down until she was inches from his face, and clamped her hand directly over his freshly relocated shoulder joint.
Sebastian’s smile vanished.
“What did you do?” Mori asked.
Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth or concern.
“I—what?” Sebastian stammered, trying to pull back.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” This story is hosted at g.com.
Mori’s fingers dug into the bandages, applying direct, agonizing pressure to the torn ligaments.
Sebastian writhed, his face contorting in pure agony.
He bit his lip to keep from screaming, his free hand scrabbling against the sheets.
The door burst open.
The two sycophants rushed in.
“Boss—!”
“Stay back!” Sebastian choked out, his eyes watering.
Mori didn’t even look at the goons.
Her dark eyes remained locked on Sebastian.
“I checked the training hall logs.
The mana signature you discharged during your little tantrum cracked a foundational ward.
Are you going to answer me, or am I going to pull this joint out of its socket myself?”
Sebastian gasped, the pain overriding his ego entirely.
“F-fine!
I had him locked in the lower dungeon!
He’s down there with the Grave-Stalker right now!”
Mori froze.
Her grip loosened.
She stared at him, genuinely caught off guard.
She had come here to interrogate him about damaging academy property, not about Kael.
“What do you mean, he?” Mori demanded, her voice dropping a terrifying octave.
Sebastian rubbed his shoulder, panting, completely misunderstanding her shock.
“Morgan!
He should have seen it coming after what he did to me!
Isn’t he the reason you came in here?”
Mori let go of him completely.
She didn’t say another word.
She turned on her heel and bolted from the infirmary.
She abandoned her perfect posture, sprinting down the marble corridors, ignoring the shocked stares of the late-night patrols.
She reached the subterranean maintenance sector in record time, practically throwing herself at the heavy iron doors of the lower pens.
She grabbed the handle.
Locked.
Mori didn’t hesitate.
She stepped back, channeled a concentrated burst of her B-rank mana into her palm, and slammed it directly against the locking mechanism.
Instead of shattering, a violent, crimson hexagonal ward flared to life across the iron, blasting Mori backward.
She hit the stone floor hard, her ears ringing.
It was a faculty-level seal.
Sebastian hadn’t just bribed a guard to let him down there; the guard had engaged the emergency lockdown protocol to cover his tracks.
It was magic only high authorities could manipulate.
For the first time in her life, the principal’s perfect daughter lost her composure.
A surge of raw, blinding rage gripped her.
She scrambled to her feet and slammed both fists against the impenetrable iron door.
He’s an F-rank.
“Morgan, hold on,” Mori hissed through her teeth.
She spun away from the door and sprinted back toward the guard barracks.
She was going to find whoever had the override key, and she was going to break their fingers until they opened it.
Down in the dark, Kael wasn’t running anymore.
He stood in the center of the feeding chamber, holding the rusted iron scraper with both hands.
The Grave-Stalker circled him, its pale eyes glowing in the dark, drool dripping from its jaw.
It lunged.
Kael didn’t try to overpower it.
Beginner Swordsmanship took over.
He stepped inside the creature’s guard, letting the beast’s momentum carry it forward.
He drove the heavy iron scraper upward, aiming for the soft tissue beneath its bony jaw.
The iron struck true, but the beast’s sheer kinetic force didn’t stop.
A heavy, clawed paw slammed into Kael’s chest.
He heard three of his ribs snap like dry twigs.
Kael was thrown backward, crashing into the iron bars of a cage.
He coughed blood, sliding to the floor, pain exploding through his torso.
The beast shrieked, the scraper lodged deep in its throat, but it wasn’t dead.
It staggered toward him, jaws wide.
Kael didn’t have a weapon anymore.
But he had his mind.
As the beast dove for his throat, Kael rolled, grabbed the heavy iron locking-pin from the cage door, and drove it with every ounce of strength he had left directly into the creature’s glowing eye.
The Grave-Stalker convulsed violently, let out a gurgling screech, and collapsed.
Kael slumped against the cold stone wall, clutching his broken ribs.
Every breath felt like inhaling glass.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the end.
Instead, a rush of pure, burning warmth flooded his veins.
The monster’s mana dissolved into the air and rushed into Kael’s chest, sewing itself into his blood.
It was intoxicating.
In the darkness, the blue screen flared to life.
[C-Rank Monster Mana Absorbed.
Threshold Reached.] [Physical Evolution Unlocked: Adaptive Regeneration.] [Initiating biological repairs.]
Kael gasped as the broken bones in his chest suddenly shifted, knitting together with a hot, uncomfortable friction.
A loud, grinding CLANG echoed through the corridor.
The heavy iron doors at the end of the hall were violently wrenched open.
Mori skidded into the feeding chamber, breathing heavily, a terrified, bleeding gatekeeper stumbling behind her holding the override key.
She stopped, taking in the bloody scene: the dead C-rank monster, and the F-rank boy slumped against the wall.
“Morgan,” she breathed, rushing to his side.
Kael cracked an eye open, looking up at her face.
The perfect mask of the academy’s golden girl had slipped, revealing actual, genuine panic.
“I finished…
mo-,” Kael rasped, before his head rolled to the side and he passed out.
Mori didn’t look at the gatekeeper.
She didn’t call for the medics.
She grabbed Kael by his good arm, slung his weight over her shoulder, and carried him out of the dark.