The answer came from the stairwell. A figure emerged from the darkness, walking slowly and deliberately. It had the shape of a human but looked wrong. As it stepped into the crystal light, students gasped.
It wore a mask which was a smooth and featureless white porcelain that reflected the ambient light. Dark robes concealed its form, and essence radiated from it in patterns that hurt to perceive directly.
"A masked cultivator," Henrik breathed. "Everyone, maximum defensive posture! These are assassins from the capital's underworld guilds!"
Before anyone could react, Derek's voice cut through the tension.
"Finally! About fucking time you showed up!"
Everyone turned to stare. Derek stood at the edge of the defensive formation, no longer looking unstable or angry. He looked triumphant.
"Derek, what are you—" Roland started.
