Ray watched in horror as K disarmed Sergeant Svane and slammed the guard against the wall, K immediately charged towards Svane, hand raised for the final, lethal nerve strike. The remaining Shadow Guards were too far away, Svane was defenseless.

In that short moment, Ray made his decision. His subtle environmental disruptions weren’t enough. Evasion wouldn’t save Svane. He had to intervene directly, with force. But his arsenal of Mana-based spells was limited to basic cantrips and a couple of 1st circle spells that he can’t even cast properly yet. A standard Fire Bolt cantrip wouldn’t even make K flinch. He needed something more. He needed his secret weapon.

He knew the cost. Activating the Cognitive Stasis Field had already drained his Aether reserves to a dangerous low. Channeling a significant amount again, especially into an offensive spell, could drop him back to critical levels, leaving him utterly vulnerable.

Veteran: “Damn the cost! Your man is down! Engage the target!”

Weaver: “Finally! Unleash the power, boy! Show this ghost what real power looks like!”

Ignoring the internal chaos, Ray acted. He secretly began gathering the ambient Mana, his small hands performing the simple somatic gestures for the Fire Bolt cantrip. Simultaneously, he reached deep within himself, pulling on the precious, hard-won Aether he had recovered through meditation. He channeled a significant portion of his remaining life force, pouring it into the forming Mana construct using his Aether-Infusion technique.

The simple cantrip matrix flared, overloaded but stabilized by his Aether. A small ball of golden fire, crackling with intense energy, formed in his palm. His focus narrowed, the Stoic Assassin’s Marksmanship skill providing perfect accuracy. He didn’t just aim at K; he anticipated her focus on Svane. Using the core concept of The Fulcrum Principle, finding the leverage point, he identified the perfect angle, K’s momentary blind spot created by her attack posture.

With a sharp mental command and a final surge of Aether, Ray thrust his hand forward, unleashing the enhanced Fire Bolt cantrip.

Even as K pressed the attack on Sergeant Svane, her hyper-aware senses registered the sudden shift in the room’s energy behind her. She felt the distinct gathering of ambient Mana, a basic Fire Bolt cantrip, originating from Ray.

So the brat can use Mana after all,

K registered the shocking new intelligence with cold detachment, filing it away even mid-combat. She dismissed the incoming spell’s power level instantly; a cantrip, even from a prodigy, was negligible. Engaged with Svane, dodging was momentarily impossible. With contemptuous ease, she raised her free arm, intending to swat the insignificant spell aside or simply block it.

The Aether-Infused Fire Bolt slammed into K’s forearm with the concussive force of a physical blow, far exceeding any expectation for a simple cantrip. The impact blasted her backwards, tearing her away from Svane and sending her crashing hard onto the stone floor several feet away. She landed with a grunt of genuine shock, her mind reeling from the unexpected power.

K pushed herself up slightly, her eyes narrowing. Then she saw it. Clinging to her arm and chest where the bolt had struck was not the fading orange flicker of a normal fire spell, but a patch of viscous, golden fire. It wasn’t dissipating; it was burning with a steady, unnatural persistence, radiating an intense heat that felt strangely vital. Instinct took over. She flared her own Aetheric aura, attempting to smother the flames or erect a protective barrier, a standard technique against energy attacks.

The effect was immediate and horrifying. The golden fire didn’t extinguish; it flared brighter, latching onto her defensive Aether like fresh fuel, growing in size and intensity, searing her skin beneath. A sharp hiss of pain escaped her lips, and genuine alarm flashed in her neutral eyes. This wasn’t normal fire. This wasn’t Mana. This was something else, something that consumed Aether.

Across the room, the fight had completely stopped. Sergeant Svane, the remaining Shadow Guards, and Rina stared in stunned silence. They recognized the basic form of the Fire Bolt Ray had cast, but the golden, persistent, Aether-consuming flames clinging to K were unlike anything they had ever witnessed.

K struggled against the clinging golden flames for several moments, attempting various techniques, smothering it with her arm, trying to erect a stronger Aetheric shield but nothing worked. The fire didn’t spread rapidly, but it slowly expanded and burned with a relentless, leeching intensity, visibly consuming her Aetheric defenses and searing her flesh beneath. Involuntary hisses and sharp cries of pain escaped her lips, sounds utterly alien compared to her usual cold control.

Then, abruptly, she stopped struggling. She looked down at the golden fire burning steadily on her arm, then looked up, her neutral gaze locking directly onto Ray. Her face was pale, her expression showing a faint grimace of pain, but beneath it was a flicker of something new, calculated respect, maybe even a spark of genuine, dangerous intrigue.

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“You continue to surprise me, Croft,”

K stated, her voice strained but steady.

“This round… is yours.”

Before Svane or the remaining Shadow Guards could react to K’s sudden concession, she executed a rapid, disorienting retreat. It wasn’t simple speed; the air around her seemed to ripple and distort for a fraction of a second, an Aether-fueled movement that was impossibly fast. She vanished instantly from the suite, the golden flames still visibly burning on her arm as she disappeared. Svane and the guards lunged towards where she had been, but there was nothing there.

Only the faint, chilling echo of K’s departure remained, a bizarre, unsettling sound that seemed to be a mixture of a pained cry and a high-pitched, almost hysterical laugh.

Ray stood breathing heavily, a large amount of his Aether was spent for the spell setting him back to critical levels again, leaning on Rina for support. Sergeant Svane stood amidst the wreckage of the study, his expression grim. The remaining Shadow Guards moved to check on their fallen comrades. K was gone. But she was wounded, marked by a unique Aetheric fire that might finally make the ghost identifiable. The shadow war had just drawn first blood.

The study was a wreck. An overturned armchair lay near the wall, books were scattered across the floor, and the heavy, shattered remnants of K’s restraints lay discarded like broken shackles. The faint, unique metallic tang of the lingering Aetheric fire hung faintly in the air.

In the midst of the chaos stood Sergeant Svane, Ray, leaning heavily on Rina for support and the three remaining Shadow Guards. One Shadow Guard remained near Ray and Rina, a silent protector. Svane quickly moved to check on the two guards K had disabled. They lay motionless on the floor, their breathing shallow but steady.

“They’re alive,”

Svane reported curtly, confirming they were merely incapacitated by K’s precise nerve strikes.

He straightened, issuing immediate orders to the two active Shadow Guards.

“One of you, attempt to track the target’s escape route,”

he commanded, his voice low and urgent.

“I know the probability of success is low, but we have to maintain protocol. Relay a message of Code Black alert to infirmary detail immediately. Target ‘K’ is hostile, mobile, and Adept Thorne is a confirmed secondary objective. Maintain Condition Red until further notice. Execute.”

The two Shadow Guards acknowledged with imperceptible nods and moved instantly, one melting into the shadows near the corridor entrance, the other manipulating a small device on its wrist.

Svane then turned his attention to Ray. The boy looked utterly depleted, his face pale and slick with sweat, his breathing still uneven. The intense focus required to maintain his tactical interventions using The Fulcrum Principle throughout the fight, combined with the Aetheric cost of his final spell, had clearly pushed him far beyond his limits.

“Lord Croft,”

Svane asked, his professional tone softening slightly with concern.

“Are you able to move?”

Ray managed a weak nod, lifting his head with visible effort. His voice was hoarse.

“Food… Rina… need…”

Rina immediately understood, retrieving another honey-nut bar from her pouch and carefully helping him take small bites. Svane observed the process with stoic neutrality, filing the observation away alongside previous instances of this unconventional recovery method.

Sergeant Svane maintained his professional watch, his gaze shifting between the recovering Ray, the anxious Rina, and the subdued forms of the incapacitated Shadow Guards. Outwardly stoic, his mind was a storm of recalibration, processing the impossible events he had just witnessed.

How?

The question echoed in his disciplined mind. The boy, Croft, hadn’t just panicked or hidden. He had commanded elite Shadow Guards. He had anticipated K’s moves with uncanny accuracy. And those disruptions… kicking debris, throwing objects, using the environment itself as a weapon… it wasn’t the trained response of any academy doctrine Svane knew. It was something else, something unpredictable and frighteningly effective.

Then there was the magic. All intelligence suggested the boy was magically inert, a glaring weakness. Yet Svane had clearly seen him cast a Fire Bolt. More than that, the cantrip had possessed power far exceeding its station, and its effect… that persistent, golden fire… was unlike any Mana-based spell Svane had ever encountered. K, a legendary operative, had been forced into retreat by a cantrip. The boy’s potential power level was a terrifying unknown.

If a simple cantrip wielded by him carries such force,

Svane calculated with cold logic,

what would a true spell, a higher-circle working, be capable of?

The boy wasn’t just a prodigy or an anomaly. He was a strategic asset, perhaps even a weapon, of potentially kingdom-altering significance.

This realization created a profound conflict within Svane. His orders were clear: protect the asset. But how does one protect an asset who willingly engaged legendary operatives and wielded magic that defied known principles? His assessment shifted fundamentally. Ray Croft was no longer just a high-value target to be shielded; he was an unpredictable allied force operating entirely outside standard military doctrine.

And beneath the layers of professional analysis, a deeper, more personal realization settled. K’s lethal strike had been inches from his throat. The killing blow was poised. Ray’s intervention, that impossible golden fire, hadn’t just disrupted the fight; it had saved Svane’s life. As a Silver Aegis did not take such debts lightly. His duty was still to the Headmaster’s orders, but a new, profound sense of personal obligation now bound him to the boy. It wasn’t just a mission anymore.

Svane had a dozen urgent questions demanding answers. How had Ray known K’s weak points? What was the nature of that golden fire? But he looked at Ray, saw the boy’s evident exhaustion and the slight tremor still in his hands as Rina helped him. The interrogation could wait. Recovery was the immediate priority.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep