The courtyard was drowned in a suffocating silence. The only sound was the rhythmic dripping of blood from the broken assassin's blade.
The remaining four "Shadow Blade" assassins exchanged terrified glances. They had been trained to face the most powerful mages of the Academy, but they had never been trained to face a servant who could cleave reinforced steel with a wooden broom.
One of them signaled frantically in the Eclipse Cult's silent language. In a flash, they all abandoned the disciples and lunged at Kael from four different directions. Their poisoned black blades traced deadly arcs through the air, aiming for his neck, his heart, and his knees.
"Watch out!" a female disciple screamed in terror.
But Kael didn't even blink. He raised the wooden broom, which was already beginning to splinter, unable to contain the sheer, overwhelming energy of the "Azura Core" flooding through it.
"You asked me to clean the courtyard, didn't you, Cyril?" Kael said coldly, his eyes tracking the assassins as if they were moving in slow motion. "Cleaning requires... sweeping."
Kael pivoted his body in a perfect half-circle, swinging the broom with raw, unbridled force.
BOOM!
It wasn't a clean cut this time; it was a devastating blast of pure air pressure! The broom collided with all four assassins' weapons simultaneously. The black blades shattered into hundreds of pieces, and the four killers were sent flying through the air like discarded ragdolls. They crashed into the courtyard walls with a sickening crunch of bones, falling unconscious instantly.
The wooden broom in Kael's hand finally gave out, disintegrating into a cloud of sawdust. Kael casually dusted his hands, looking down at Cyril, who was still slumped on the ground, his jaw trembling and tears of sheer terror welling in his eyes.
Meanwhile, in a dark corner of the courtyard, the white-robed spy realized the mission was an absolute failure. He turned quietly, attempting to slip away in the aftermath of the chaos.
But before he could take his third step, a silver dagger flashed through the air. It pierced the stone wall, pinning his white sleeve securely to the masonry.
From the shadows, Lyra emerged. Her silver eyes gleamed with lethal coldness, and in her hand, a second dagger was pressed flush against the spy's throat.
"Where to, white rat?" Lyra whispered, her voice sending a chill straight to the spy's bones. "I was always taught that rats who open doors for cats... must be skinned first."
Back in the center of the courtyard, the Academy's leaders and elders finally snapped out of their shock. "Grand Elder Thorne," an old man draped in opulent gold and white robes, stepped forward, clutching a diamond-encrusted staff.
Elder Thorne looked at the defeated Eclipse assassins, then at the cleanly cleaved Fallen Star Stone, and finally, his gaze settled on Kael. But instead of gratitude for saving his disciples' lives, the elder's eyes gleamed with something else entirely... Greed.
"You!" Elder Thorne shouted, pointing his staff at Kael. "What kind of forbidden artifact did you use to cut our sacred stone and defeat these assassins? Hand over the magic tool hidden in your clothes immediately! As the Grand Elder, it is my right to confiscate any unknown, dangerous weapon for the safety of the Academy!"
The disciples gasped at the Grand Elder's audacity. This young man had just saved their lives, and the Elder was demanding he hand over some imaginary "secret weapon"!
Kael smiled a bitter, knowing smile. Old Faren was right... this Academy is full of garbage, from top to bottom.
Kael was about to retort, but a familiar, gravelly voice interrupted from the balcony above:
"If you want to confiscate something, Thorne, come confiscate the blade of my dagger from between your ribs."
Master Orik leaped from the balcony, landing lightly between Kael and the Grand Elder. Orik glared at the elders with undisguised disgust. "This boy is my personal disciple. And anyone who even thinks about touching a hair on his head... will have to deal with the 'Puppet Master' first."
Elder Thorne involuntarily took a step back, genuine fear flashing in his eyes at the mention of Orik's title.
Orik turned his head slightly toward Kael, flashing a sly smile the young man had never seen before. "Good job with the sweeping, servant... but your real training begins now."