As the sun rose, Cloud Peak Academy didn't wake to the chirping of birds, but to a terrifying scream echoing from the main training courtyard.
Dozens of disciples gathered, led by the Academy's elders with pale faces and bulging eyes. In the center of the courtyard, the legendary "Fallen Star Stone"—which had endured for centuries—lay on the ground, cleaved into two perfectly equal halves.
Cyril stood in the front row, trembling as he ran his fingers over the severed surface. The cut was as smooth as a mirror, flawlessly reflecting his shocked face.
"Impossible..." whispered one of the grand elders, gripping his trembling white beard. "This isn't magic... this is a strike of pure blade intent! Who did this? Did a mythical beast sneak into the Academy last night?"
While the entire Academy's eyes were fixed on the miraculous stone, on the deserted northern side of the magical barrier, a figure wearing pristine white robes—a senior disciple—stood in the shadows. With a malicious smile, the man pulled a black crystal from his pocket and crushed it in his hand.
At that moment, a hidden rift appeared in the blue magical barrier. Through that tear, five black shadows slithered in like smoke. They were the "Shadow Blades," the elite assassin squad of the Eclipse Cult.
"Everyone is distracted by the stone," the traitorous spy whispered to the masked squad leader. "Kill as many disciples in the courtyard as you can before the elders intervene. Let them taste terror."
The masked leader nodded, and in the blink of an eye, the five shadows darted toward the main courtyard.
The disciples were still arguing over the identity of the "unknown savior" who cleaved the stone when the first body fell. A disciple dropped to his knees, a fountain of blood erupting from his neck.
"Attack! The Eclipse Cult is inside the walls!" Cyril screamed in terror, raising his ruby-embedded magic staff.
Chaos erupted. The young disciples, who had never experienced a real war, tried to cast fireballs and water shields. But the Shadow Blades were seasoned killers. They dodged the magic with ease, pouncing like starving wolves among a flock of sheep.
Within minutes, the courtyard was stained with blood. Cyril fell to the ground after being kicked by the Eclipse Cult leader, his expensive magic staff shattering into two pieces. The leader raised his curved, poisoned black sword to end the trembling youth's life.
At that exact moment, the heavy wooden door of the rear wing swung open.
Kael stepped out, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He was wearing rough, simple clothes he had found in a storage room, holding a long wooden broom in his hand. Following Orik's orders, he had to pretend to be a mere servant and baggage handler to avoid drawing attention.
Kael stopped when he saw the courtyard filled with bodies and blood. He let out an annoyed sigh and muttered to himself, "Bloody hell... Can't I just clean this courtyard in peace?"
Cyril turned and saw Kael standing there with his broom. Even while facing death, the arrogant youth didn't abandon his pride. Cyril yelled at him, "Run, you stupid servant! Do you want to die? You're just an insect who can't even hold a sword!"
Cyril's shouting drew the attention of one of the Eclipse assassins. The killer smiled sadistically beneath his mask, left Cyril, and dashed toward Kael with lightning speed, raising his black sword to decapitate this "peasant servant."
Kael didn't move. He didn't run. Instead, he sighed again.
He allowed just a single drop of the "Azura Core" energy to flow from his chest into the wooden broom in his hand. For a fleeting moment invisible to the naked eye, the worn wood glowed with a terrifying blue flash.
When the assassin was a mere inch away, Kael swung his wooden broom in a silent, horizontal motion—incredibly fast and flawlessly smooth.
Hssssss!
The exact same faint sound that had echoed the night before.
The assassin stopped in his tracks, completely frozen. The black sword forged from reinforced steel... was cleanly cleaved in half. And not just the sword—even the metal armor the assassin wore was split by a flawless horizontal line. The assassin collapsed to the ground, knocked unconscious by the sheer shockwave of the strike, while the top half of his sword clattered down right next to Cyril's feet.
A deadly silence fell over the courtyard. Even the other Eclipse Cult assassins stopped their assault, staring in disbelief at their comrade defeated by a wooden broom.
Cyril stared at the impossibly smooth, flawless cut on the enemy's sword... then slowly, with horrifying realization, turned his head toward the perfectly smooth cut on the ten-ton "Fallen Star Stone."
The same angle. The same smoothness. The same strike.
Cyril's eyes widened until they nearly popped out of their sockets, his jaw dropping in a shock that paralyzed his tongue. All the disciples who had laughed at Kael's stench yesterday were now looking at him with a terror and reverence beyond description.
Kael stood there, scratching the back of his head with the wooden broom. He looked down at Cyril sprawled on the ground, his eyes cold, and said:
"I told you yesterday that I was going to clean this courtyard... didn't I?"