The warm rays of the setting sun filtered into Elijah's room when a knock came on the wooden door. With a brief creak, it opened to reveal Daud, Ayn, Anna, and Sylphira entering with bright faces and excitement radiating from their eyes.
"Permission from Alaric," Daud said, grinning. "So we're here to give you a full report!"
Anna playfully ruffled Elijah's already messy hair. "You should've seen Daud fly! Like a comet. We crushed it!"
Principal Belbub, who had appeared behind them, smiled and gently brushed their hair one by one like a proud father. "I want to see all of you succeed in the Cup of Power Tournament."
Elijah sat up straighter. "What exactly happens in this tournament?"
Ayn's eyes sparkled. "It's made up of five intense rounds."
Sylphira held up her fingers, counting them. "First round—Magic Showcase. It's a display of raw magical creativity and power."
"Second," Daud continued, "is the Deep Water Competition. It's not just about swimming, it's a magical endurance and underwater test."
"Third," said Anna, "Monster Hunting. Each team is dropped into a wild zone with magical beasts."
"Fourth is Group Battle," Ayn added. "Where full teams clash in a strategic warzone."
"And the final round," Sylphira finished, "Treasure Finding. It tests not just strength or power, but instincts, intelligence, and fate itself."
Daud leaned in, voice serious. "But here's the twist—no matter how many rounds you lose, if you win the final round, you win the whole tournament."
Elijah blinked. "That's… unexpected. I want to go. I want to see it happen with my own eyes."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the door opened sharply.
Vice Principal Vera entered, her hair braided tightly behind her, her cloak sweeping across the floor like storm clouds. Her eyes were sharp and unwavering.
"No," she said firmly. "Absolutely not. Look at your condition, Elijah. And more importantly, I won't allow my grandson to risk his life."
The room went silent.
Ayn's jaw dropped. "Wait—what?"
Anna gasped, "Did she just say... grandson?"
Sylphira stared between Elijah and Vera. "That can't be..."
Before the confusion could grow deeper, Alaric entered quickly, eyes wide. "Mother… maybe we shouldn't spread that around."
Vera stood tall, her voice icy. "And how many times have I told you I won't hide it anymore? He is my grandson. No matter what."
Principal Belbub sighed, but smiled. "Perhaps it's alright now. They already know the truth about Elijah's condition. It won't matter."
He turned to the others. "But I trust you won't speak of this outside these walls."
Daud nodded solemnly. "You have my word."
"Same here," said Anna. "We won't say anything."
"Not a single word," Ayn and Sylphira echoed together.
Elijah looked up at Vera, his expression soft but resolute.
"Then why are you avoiding my request? I want to see it. Please."
Vera's lips trembled slightly, but she shook her head. "No. It's too dangerous… my son."
Alaric placed a hand on her shoulder. "I've gone over his medical report. His condition is stable. The symptoms have faded, and only two percent of the essence remains to block. He's stronger than we feared."
A long pause. Then finally, Vera sighed in surrender. "Only if he stays with you the entire time, Alaric."
"Of course," he assured.
Belbub smiled warmly. "Then it's settled."
The group dispersed shortly after, and night gently settled over the Academy. Elijah, emotionally tired and content, soon drifted into sleep.
At night, a trio of girls walked under the pale moonlight, giggling among themselves. Their laughter echoed faintly through the silent corridors of the academy's garden path.
"I swear, did you see how Daud caught that bird?" one of them giggled. "He's like… literally perfect."
"Tall, brave, and cool," another sighed dreamily.
They were about to head back to the dorm when they heard something—a rustling, low and wet, not made by the wind.
They turned around.
Nothing.
"Probably a squirrel?" one whispered.
But the air felt cold suddenly. Too cold.
A black slick sound oozed through the air—and then shlak—shadowy tentacles burst from the bushes, wrapping tightly around their legs and mouths. Muffled screams escaped them as they were dragged away into the darkness.
The night swallowed their voices.
And no one saw them again. Not yet.