For a moment, Kyle could only stare at the floating screen, unable to move. Something was holding him still—he didn't know what. He looked down at his palm and noticed it turning red. Possibly from evolution.
An intense itch spread across his body, crawling all the way to his back. His eyes turned bloodshot. The pain was so sharp, he felt that scratching it would tear his skin open.
[Evolution in Progress...]
Kyle's knees began to weaken. His hearing dulled. His entire body, inside and out, was shifting. Reconstructing itself while he was fully conscious.
'What the heck is happening...? I thought evolution was a choice... Ahh~'
The pain grew more violent with each second. But just as quickly as it had risen, it faded. A wave of relief washed over him.
He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. After several seconds, he began cursing at the system for the pain. Levelling up felt more like dying—and if it would hurt like that every time, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to do it again.
The screen reappeared, now showing slightly different details:
---
[User: Kyle Turner]
[Level: 2]
[Type: Non-Human]
[EXP: 100/300]
[Health: 15/15]
[Strength: 10/10]
[Agility: 10/10]
[Skills: Blue Dragon Flame, Predator Sense]
[Soul Beast: Blue Dragon]
---
Kyle felt a bit of relief. At least there were some changes. A new skill, too. He wondered what it could do, though it would probably become obvious soon enough.
His next thought was about Kerg. Had the dragon levelled up too?
He checked immediately.
---
[Soul Beast: Blue Dragon]
[Health: 25/25]
[Power Level: 2]
[Tier: E Rank]
---
That confirmed it. The dragon levelled up with him. No need to find a separate way to help it grow—if he got stronger, so would it.
After confirming that, Kyle moved on, setting his next plans in motion. He'd test his new skill once he returned to the Academy. He also needed to come up with a convincing lie to tell his team about how he slayed the beast.
That was assuming they were still alive to hear it.
And if not, he'd need another story—one for the Academy itself.
___
Kyle stepped out from the trees, blood smeared across his body. His face was tired but fixed with a hardened look. The Gorgewar's dark blood soaked his sleeves and dripped from his collar. The scent was thick, metallic.
His breathing was heavy, like someone who had just crawled out of hell.
He moved slowly, dragging one leg, though there was nothing wrong with it. He had practised the limp several times on the way back. If anyone asked, he'd say the beast had already been weakened. That he only finished it off. It sounded believable.
A win was still a win.
The clearing opened ahead, and there they were.
The team was still alive. That alone brought a faint smile to his face. Telling his story would be easier now.
Rio was slumped against a half-burnt tree, bruised and battered, one arm bent unnaturally. He raised his head slightly when he saw Kyle. He didn't speak, but the look in his eyes said more than enough. Kyle saw the disbelief.
Dylan was on his knees, tending to a teammate. His left hand was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. He looked drained but still alert. He gave Kyle a small nod as he approached. Nothing more.
Then he asked, "What about the beast?"
Kyle kept the limp and spoke just loud enough.
"It was already half-dead when I got there. I just… I just finished it off."
Dylan didn't respond. He turned back to the injured.
Rio kept staring.
Kyle couldn't hold his gaze. He crouched beside the others and began to help. No one questioned him. None of them had the strength to argue or check the truth.
---
By the time they returned to the Academy gates, the sun was already low. Medics rushed over and took the worst of the injured away. Kyle kept his limp and worn-out face. Nobody asked questions.
Not at first.
Later, they were summoned to the briefing room and told to write individual reports. The room was cold, the lights harsh. A man in black stood at the front, hands behind his back.
"You left school grounds," he began, his voice even. "Without permission. Without clearance. Without oversight."
He paused. The silence stretched.
"Under normal conditions, this would not end lightly."
Another pause. He scanned their faces.
"But we are aware of the names involved in this group," he said, glancing at Dylan. "And given the outcome of the incident… this time, you will receive a warning. There will not be a second."
Kyle stayed still, his expression neutral. But something felt off. The way they glanced at Dylan, the tone they used—it was clear Dylan's family held influence.
---
Meanwhile, deep within the Academy's data room, a different conversation was taking place.
Several monitors showed paths, vitals, and timestamps. Kyle's movement didn't match his report. His signal had broken away long before the rest of the team reached the Gorgewar's zone.
One staff member scrolled through the logs. Kyle's vitals had spiked—heart rate, energy output, and exposure to unidentified elemental readings.
He hadn't just stumbled into a weakened beast. Something else had happened.
An analyst leaned back in their chair.
"This one's hiding something."
The colleague shrugged.
"There's nothing concrete. Just messy data."
"Messy data leads to messy problems."
Still, there was no report filed. The evidence was weak.
Kyle's file was quietly marked and moved to a private directory.
---
Kyle stepped into the dormitory. Silence greeted him first.
Then the smell. Blood. Sweat. Thick in the air.
Jake was on the floor. His face was a mess. One eye swollen shut. Nose broken. His shirt torn open. Blood had been smeared across the tiles.
Kyle froze.
He dropped his bag without a word.
The door behind him opened.
Eddie stepped in, a pack of cheese in one hand. He paused mid-step. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes scanned the room.
Jake lying broken. Kyle bloodied, standing still.
Eddie's eyes locked with Kyle's. Something changed in his face.
He stepped forward, slow and careful.
Then he spoke. Quiet. Cold.
"Who did this?"
***
(A/N: Welcome back, Legends. Yes, yes—five months is practically an arc in itself, but good things age like wine... or like grudges in dark fantasy tales. During the silence, I went back to the writer's forge, reforged the storyline, tightened the lore, and sharpened the upcoming events until they could slice through your expectations like a cursed blade through a rookie hunter.)
Apt, apt, apt indeed.
From here on out, we're marching with discipline—one chapter a day, a solemn vow sealed in ink and keyboard fatigue. And should the writing spirits bless me (or if I accidentally inhale too much plot twist), that might soon become two... or three. Daily updates are no longer a myth, but a prophecy.
Prepare yourselves. The narrative will hit harder, flow smoother, and—let's be honest—break you emotionally in much more elegant ways.
So buckle in.
The dark tide rises again.
Happy reading, and try not to fall too hard for the villains. (We both know you will.)