By the time Ashan reached the training grounds, the lesson was already underway.
The early morning calm was replaced by the sharp rhythm of practice as heat shimmered faintly in the air from repeated spellcasting, and at the center of it all, Lunara stood with composed authority, guiding the students through a demonstration of advanced fire manipulation.
She lifted her wand with practiced ease, her posture straight and precise, and as she began to channel her mana, the surrounding air seemed to tighten in response, the temperature rising just enough to make the students instinctively step back.
"What you're seeing here," she explained steadily, her voice carrying across the field with clarity, "is a concentrated fire technique designed for precision rather than spread."
With a controlled motion, she released the spell.
A narrow beam of compressed flame shot forward in a straight line, not exploding outward like a typical fire attack, but piercing through the air with focused intensity, stretching nearly forty meters before finally dissipating, leaving a faint trail of heat distortion in its wake.
A wave of impressed murmurs spread through the students.
"Woah… that was insane…"
"That wasn't like a normal fire spell at all…"
Lunara allowed a small, confident smile to form as she lowered her wand, clearly satisfied with the reaction.
"This technique sacrifices area damage in exchange for accuracy and penetration," she continued, turning slightly toward them.
"If used correctly, it can eliminate a target before they even realize they're being attacked. The range and power depend entirely on your mana control and output."
Zevi, who had been watching with narrowed eyes, scratched the back of his head as if trying to process it, though his expression quickly shifted into mild skepticism.
"But isn't that kind of inefficient?" he said, tilting his head slightly. "Why not just blow everything up or burn the target directly? Seems faster."
A few students nodded in agreement, clearly thinking along the same lines.
Lunara let out a soft laugh, shaking her head lightly at the simplicity of that approach.
"That works… until it doesn't," she replied, her tone patient but firm.
"Imagine your target is surrounded by allies, or worse, civilians. If you rely only on wide-area destruction, you'll cause more harm than necessary. A spell like this gives you control, and in real combat, control often matters more than raw power."
The students quieted slightly, her words settling in.
"Professor!" one of them called out eagerly. "Can you go over the steps again? I got lost halfway through your explanation."
"Of course," Lunara replied, turning back toward the group as she began breaking down the technique in more detail, her gestures slower this time so they could follow along.
While her attention shifted, Zevi leaned slightly toward Ashan, lowering his voice.
"Hey," he muttered, glancing around briefly, "when you fought Rianne… those fire things you used, the ones shaped like creatures, they locked onto targets, right?"
Ashan nodded without looking at him directly.
"Yeah. They can track from multiple angles," he said casually. "But that's not a spell. It's just part of my skill. The shape is mostly for misdirection."
Zevi's eyes lit up with interest, his curiosity instantly reignited.
"Damn… that's useful," he said under his breath. "Do you know anything similar I could actually learn?"
Ashan was about to respond,
BEEEEEP…!
The sound tore through the training grounds without warning.
The emergency alarm blared loudly, sharp and relentless, echoing across the entire academy as if something had pierced straight through its usual calm,
For a moment, every single person froze where they stood, their minds struggling to catch up with the sudden shift.
"Instructor… what's going on?" one student asked, his voice tense.
Lunara's expression had already changed, the earlier calm replaced by alert concern as she looked around instinctively.
"These are emergency alarms…" she said slowly, her tone tightening. "Something serious must have.."
Her words cut off as her earpiece crackled to life.
She turned slightly, pressing a hand to it, listening intently, and as the message came through, the color drained from her face.
"…A dragon?" she repeated under her breath, disbelief clear in her voice.
Her eyes widened.
"Heading here…?"
That was all it took.
Panic spread instantly among the students like wildfire.
"A dragon?! Are you serious?!"
"What the hell is happening?!"
"Is this a dungeon break?!"
"Oh god… we're dead!"
The noise rose rapidly, fear and confusion feeding into each other until the entire training ground was on the verge of chaos.
Lunara clapped her hands sharply, the sound cutting through the panic like a blade.
"Silence!" she snapped, her voice carrying authority that forced everyone to stop.
"There's no time to panic," she continued quickly, her tone firm and commanding. "All students… head to your designated safe zones immediately."
She pointed toward the exits, her movements decisive.
"All A-rankers and S-rankers are to report to the main entrance at once under the headmistress's orders. If you are confident in your abilities, you may join as well, but do not act recklessly."
Ashan raised his hand without hesitation.
"Can I join?"
Lunara nodded immediately. "Yes. If you believe you can contribute, head there now."
Without wasting another second, she turned and sprinted off, her figure disappearing quickly as she moved toward her assigned position.
Zevi didn't hesitate either, his expression already shifting into excitement rather than fear as he ran forward with the other A-rankers.
"Come on!" he called over his shoulder.
Ashan followed them a moment later, blending seamlessly into the group.
His expression darkened as his thoughts raced far faster than his surroundings.
'A dragon… here?'
His eyes narrowed slightly.
'That wasn't supposed to happen yet.'
A faint tension crept into his chest.
'There will be an incident… but not this early… and definitely not like this.'
He exhaled slowly, his gaze sharpening.
'Then something changed.'
A brief pause.
'Because of me.'
The realization settled in heavily.
'Somewhere along the line…it seems I altered something I shouldn't have.'
His jaw tightened slightly.
'But where…?'
For a moment, he considered tracing it back, analyzing every action, every deviation,
Then he clicked his tongue softly.
'Doesn't matter right now.'
His eyes lifted toward the direction of the entrance.
'Whatever it is… I'll deal with it when it comes.'
He moved quickly after that, catching up with the flow of students rushing toward the front of the academy, their footsteps echoing against the ground as tension built with every passing second.
As they moved, he spotted a narrow, shadowed corner between two structures, just out of sight from the main path.
"Give me a moment," he said to Zevi as they passed it. "I'll catch up."
"Don't take too long," Zevi replied without slowing, his grin wide with anticipation.
Ashan slipped into the shadows without drawing attention, his presence fading the moment he stepped out of sight.
With practiced ease, he formed a shadow clone, the duplicate appearing beside him and immediately nodding in understanding before dashing off to rejoin the group.
Left alone, Ashan reached into his space storage and pulled out his mask, slipping it over his face as his expression hardened.
His eyes shifted.
The familiar patterns of the Sharingan emerged,
Then twisted.
The Mangekyou bloomed.
Space itself warped around him.
A swirling distortion formed, pulling inward like a collapsing void, and in the next instant, his body was dragged into it completely, vanishing without a trace.
…
In a remarkably short span of time, the entire front of the academy had transformed into a battlefield, as every available A-ranker, S-ranker, professor, and Maren herself assembled outside the main entrance.
Their movements were sharp and efficient, driven by the urgency of a threat that left no room for hesitation, while radar scans continued to confirm what they already feared.
The dragon was heading straight toward them, closing the distance far faster than anyone would have liked.
Under Maren's direct command, the academy had already been sealed behind its strongest defensive system, a massive transparent barrier that stretched across the entire perimeter like an invisible dome, its surface faintly shimmering as immense currents of mana flowed through it, reinforcing every inch against the incoming danger.
Draven, not one to take chances, had layered an additional reinforcement over it, thickening the barrier's stability to a level rarely used even in large-scale emergencies.
Inside that protective shell, hundreds of students stood gathered in secured zones, their attention locked onto high-quality broadcast screens that displayed the situation from multiple angles, the tension among them rising with every passing second as they watched their strongest defenders prepare for a battle that had come far too suddenly.
Outside, however, there was no room for spectatorship, only readiness.
Every fighter stood fully equipped, clad in armor, weapons drawn or resting within immediate reach, their mana circulating steadily beneath the surface, controlled yet primed to erupt at a moment's notice.
At the very front stood Maren, her presence alone enough to anchor the entire formation, her expression calm but unyielding as the faint glow from her specialized gloves pulsed rhythmically, those artifacts acting as both conduit and amplifier, allowing her to push her already formidable mana output to even greater heights.
Flanking her were the eight S-rankers, each one a force capable of turning the tide of battle on their own: Draven, Morevan, Magnar, Luphar, Rowan, Elarith, Roswayn, and Dessa, standing shoulder to shoulder in a loose but deliberate formation, their auras restrained but unmistakably heavy, their eyes fixed forward with unwavering focus.
Just behind them, the professors had taken their positions, no longer resembling the composed instructors the students were used to seeing, as their academy attire had been replaced entirely with combat gear, their expressions hardened, their bodies angled slightly forward as if already anticipating the first clash,
Among them, Aren and Sisiliya stood out; not because of movement, but because of the unmistakable gravity in their faces, a quiet understanding that what was coming would not be simple.
Further back, the senior students maintained a clean formation, lined up with discipline, their grips tight on their weapons despite the tension that subtly betrayed their nerves, each of them aware that they stood on the edge between observer and participant.
Off to one side, Eirena stood fully armored, her posture steady but her eyes betraying a flicker of unease as she stared ahead, the weight of the situation pressing against her composure.
Beside her, Coren Redmarsh remained the complete opposite, his stance relaxed, his eyes half-closed as if this were nothing more than a routine exercise, his calm so absolute that it almost felt unnatural in contrast to the rising tension around him.
High above them all, Lia hovered in perfect stillness, her figure cutting a sharp silhouette against the sky as her sleek black outfit clung tightly to her form, her hair secured to avoid even the slightest obstruction, while the weapons strapped across her back, two swords and four daggers, remained perfectly aligned.
She held a scope to her eye, scanning the distant horizon with unwavering focus, her entire awareness narrowed into that single task, filtering through layers of distance and distortion in search of the incoming threat.
Below, Rowan let out a low whistle as he tilted his head back to watch her.
"Honestly… I'm jealous," he said, his tone light but genuine, as his gaze followed her steady position in the air.
"Flight alone already puts you on a completely different level, and when you pair that with an assassin's skillset, it just becomes unfair."
He shifted his attention toward Draven, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
"Hey, big guy, what about you?" he asked. "I've seen you launch yourself into the air before. Can't you do something like that?"
Draven's expression tightened slightly, clearly unimpressed by the comparison.
"That wasn't flight," he replied in a flat tone. "I used an air burst beneath my feet to propel myself upward. It was a tactical movement, nothing more."
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "Still looked like flying to me. You even stayed up there for a bit."
"For a moment," Draven corrected, his gaze briefly shifting upward toward Lia before returning forward.
"But that doesn't qualify as true flight. Maintaining position in the air requires constant balance and adjustment. What I did was closer to an extended jump with controlled descent. Even that pushed my limits."
He paused, then added with quiet acknowledgment,
"But Lady Lia is different."
Rowan followed his gaze again.
"She manipulates the air surrounding her body from all directions," Draven continued, his tone more analytical now.
"Instead of pushing herself from a single point, she continuously adjusts her position by controlling airflow around her entire frame, almost like a self-sustaining system. It's comparable to how a drone stabilizes itself midair."
Rowan let out a low hum. "Sounds complicated."
"It is," Draven replied simply. "What looks effortless is actually constant micro-adjustment. One mistake, and balance collapses. Even I can't replicate that level of control."
Rowan smirked faintly. "And here I thought I was doing well just staying on my feet."
Draven didn't respond, his attention already shifting back toward the horizon.
Above them, Lia remained unmoving, her focus absolute, the world around her fading into irrelevance as she scanned deeper and deeper into the distance.
Among the gathered forces, Ashan's clone stood quietly, observing everything with careful attention, his gaze lingering on the formation, the positioning, the sheer number of high-level fighters gathered in one place.
'An S-rank threat… and this many S-rankers present,' he thought calmly.
His eyes flicked briefly toward Maren and the others.
'Under normal circumstances, this should be more than enough. There's no reason for my main body to intervene.'
A slight pause followed.
'Unless the system interferes.'
His gaze sharpened faintly.
'If a mission appears… especially one tied to killing this dragon, the rewards won't be something I can ignore.'
A faint, almost imperceptible shift in his stance followed.
'In that case… the main body will have to act.'
At that exact moment,
Lia's body completely froze midair.
Her eyes widened sharply behind the lens of her scope, her breathing hitching for the briefest fraction of a second as something massive entered her field of vision, something far too large, far too fast, and far too real to ignore.
Without wasting even a heartbeat, she dropped from the sky, descending in a straight line with explosive speed before landing beside Maren in a controlled impact, the ground cracking faintly beneath her boots.
She didn't look away from the horizon as she spoke.
"Maren…"
Her voice, though controlled, carried unmistakable tension.
"The dragon…"
A brief pause.
"It's here."