Return of the Legendary Runesmith

It had been ten days since that incident.

For the first time since then, the students received a notice to gather in the ceremonial hall after breakfast.

"What do you think this is about?" Aries asked, not really expecting an answer as the group made their way to the hall.

The five who had taken part in the contest walked together, Allen tagging along with Sylvie and Olivia.

None of them had spoken much these past days. Brendon, who had only been discharged three days ago, still seemed hesitant to step outside. Thankfully, he looked a little better now.

"Maybe it's to offer condolences," Altia suggested.

Olivia tilted her head, thoughtful. "Or… maybe the academy will close for a while?"

Aries scoffed. "Hardly. Our finals are only two months away. And with how strong-willed the Headmistress is, I doubt she'd let us sit in our rooms and sulk."

Her words were blunt, but no one could argue. Aries had always looked up to the Headmistress, following her path to one day become a Warden, so she could guess what this was about.

Soon, they reached the ceremonial hall and took seats in the front row. The other students were already there, gathered in small clusters, whispering among themselves.

Elana sat with Sylvie on one side and Olivia on the other. Olivia's shoulders stiffened. She had been avoiding Elana ever since their argument in the library, never daring to meet her eyes. But Elana sat quietly, detached, as if the quarrel had never happened. That alone was enough to make Olivia breathe a little easier.

Elana herself was only preoccupied with one thing: she hadn't seen the Professor in four days. He had been too busy, though he sent her a letter—yes, an actual letter—saying he would return to class today. That was enough to calm her restless thoughts, at least for now.

Meanwhile, Allen noticed how quiet Brendon had become.

"You okay, mate?" he asked, giving him a small nudge.

Brendon flinched, then forced a weak smile. "Yeah… I'm good."

But he wasn't. Brendon had been the only one captured by the Acolytes. He still remembered their fists, their kicks, the way the mob seemed to use his body to vent their rage. His weapons had been broken, his strength stripped away. There had been nothing he could do.

He had stared death in the face. The old Acolyte's cold eyes had made sure he knew just how powerless he was. And when the barrier collapsed, when that man began vaporizing students as if they were nothing, Brendon had felt hope drain out of him completely. In that moment, he truly believed it was the end.

Allen rested a hand on his junior's shoulder. "If you ever want to spar with me, you'll find me in the gym after dinner."

Brendon gave a faint smile, half amused. "Is this your way of comforting me?"

Allen shrugged lightly. "I mean, can there be a better way to clear your head and move forward?"

Brendon didn't argue.

Before the moment could stretch further, Gilbert walked onto the stage. His voice carried firmly across the hall. "Please maintain silence. The Headmistress would like to have a word."

The chatter died at once. Gilbert stepped aside.

And then—she appeared.

A familiar figure with silver hair, someone all of them respected… and feared.

Ariana stood tall at the center of the stage, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students. There was no smile, no warmth in her tone when she began to speak.

"Something awful happened a few days ago. Something none of us will ever forget."

No greetings. No soft approach. She went straight to the point.

"I know many of you are still grieving, still haunted."

Brendon bit down on his lip, the words hitting deep. Around him, a few students shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Those who had been there during the ambush couldn't escape it—the blood, the screams, the dread that clung to them even now.

That was why the administration had arranged regular counseling sessions. Yet even so, Ariana's gaze sharpened as she continued.

"However… I believe we've hidden from reality for far too long. Days have passed, and yet I see only a handful of you training. That," her voice cut like a blade, "immensely disappoints me."

The silence grew heavier. Heads bowed. Some students burned with the urge to complain, to protest—but none dared to lift their hand.

Her gaze sharpened, and her voice rang out like steel.

"To ensure none of you remain helpless if history dares to repeat itself, from this year onward, there will be an addition to the mandatory examinations."

A collective gasp rippled through the hall.

An addition to the mandatory exams?

Until now, there had only been two required tests each year. One measured their knowledge of runes, the other judged their affinity with their armaments. Passing both was enough to advance or graduate.

But now—

"You will be trained to fight without your armaments," Ariana declared. "Your third test will be based purely on bare-handed combat."

The announcement sent a wave of shock through the hall—especially among the third-years. With only two months left before their final exams, the sudden addition felt like a cruel twist of fate.

It was, without a doubt, unfair.

Yet, while many wore pale faces, Elana and Aries sat with the same calm composure as always, completely unbothered.

The ones most shaken were the bookworms—the students who had always hidden behind their runes and research, never caring much for combat. For them, this change felt like a nightmare.

Ariana's voice cut through the rising noise, silencing the whispers. "Many of you may think this is unfair," she admitted. "But isn't life itself unfair? Did any of us expect such a secure place to be attacked?"

Her words struck like cold steel. The ceremonial hall fell into absolute silence.

Several professors shifted uncomfortably, disliking her bluntness. But Ariana was not someone who softened her words—she never had been.

Her unwavering gaze swept across the hall, sharp and unyielding. "So hear me well. Prepare for the worst, or accept defeat right now. I will not lose another student just because they didn't have their armament nearby. And if you ever must face death…" Her voice dropped, steady and commanding, "…then face it with your head high. Give everything you have, and make sure your enemy remembers they fought someone who did not break."

Brendon clenched his fist, his gaze sharper, filled with determination.

Allen felt relieved that he didn't take things the wrong way.

Returning his gaze to the stage, the raven-haired thought inwardly,

'Maybe it's time I upped my game as well.'

°°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading.