CHAPTER 121: ROYAL SEAL

Jae planted his boots against the rough stone of the academy’s perimeter wall, the cold surface slick beneath his palms.

Above him, the faint shimmer of protective runes flickered like trapped starlight, reminders that no student should be breaching the barrier.

But rules meant little tonight. The trail of mana was fresh, and if they waited until morning, it would be gone.

"Up," he said, bracing himself and cupping his hands.

Tirel raised an eyebrow, fiery hair glinting faintly in the moonlight, but she stepped forward without protest. "Don’t let me fall," she muttered, more pride than fear in her voice.

Jae smirked faintly and boosted her upward. She scrambled over the top, graceful in her own way, then perched a moment, scanning the woods beyond before sliding down the far side.

Jae followed in a single motion, scaling the stone with practiced ease and dropping beside her in near silence.

The forest stretched out before them like a vast, shadowed sea. Trees crowded thick and tall, their branches arching overhead to swallow the starlight.

The air smelled of damp earth and moss, sharp with the tang of night foliage. Every rustle of leaves or snap of twig echoed too loudly, a reminder of how alive the darkness was.

Tirel summoned a small flame into her palm, the fire casting a warm halo around her face. "It’s too quiet," she murmured, voice low.

"Stay sharp," Jae replied. His dragonfire blade vibrated faintly at his side, a low hum that resonated with the mana trail threading faintly through the undergrowth.

They moved cautiously, steps muffled against soil and fallen leaves. For a few minutes there was only the sound of their breathing and the distant call of night birds. Then the brush ahead shuddered.

Three shapes burst forth, shadows given form, their bodies jerking unnaturally as if held together by threads of darkness. Eyes glowed a sickly red, claws gleaming in the faint light.

Jae’s blade roared to life, crimson fire rushing along its length. Tirel’s flame expanded into a whip of searing heat, snapping outward in a lethal arc.

The first monster lunged at her, but she met it head-on, her whip slicing through its body. The creature shrieked as it disintegrated into smoke.

Jae struck down the second in a clean, decisive cut, flames burning through its chest. The third tried to flank him, but Tirel pivoted, hurling a sphere of fire that engulfed it in a burst of light.

When the last hiss of smoke faded, Tirel straightened, tossing her hair back. "That all you’ve got?" she called into the dark, as though taunting whatever remained unseen.

Jae shot her a sharp look. "Don’t provoke them. There will be more."

She rolled her eyes, but tightened her grip on the fire gathering in her palm.

He was right.

The deeper they pressed, the more relentless the assault became. Shadows moved between the trees, darting with speed that blurred at the edges of sight.

Some came alone, others in packs of four or five, their attacks sharper, more coordinated. The forest seemed alive with them, every branch and bush hiding the potential for claws and teeth.

Tirel fought like a flame herself, wild yet controlled. Rings of fire spun around her, deflecting strikes, while bursts of heat drove enemies back. Sweat slicked her brow but her grin never faltered, her spirit blazing as hot as her magic.

Jae, by contrast, was a wall of calm precision. His dragonfire blade sang with every strike, arcs of crimson flame cutting clean through monsters.

He wasted no motion, each swing measured, every step deliberate. Together, they were an unshakable rhythm, her fire scattering, his blade finishing, their movements flowing as though they’d trained side by side for years.

But even through the fighting, Jae felt it, the pulse of mana growing stronger the farther they went. It wasn’t random. The creatures weren’t swarming by chance. They were guarding something.

At last, he slowed, raising a hand. Tirel halted instantly, her flames dimming.

"This is it," he said quietly.

He scanned the area, senses straining. The trail of mana was no longer faint but thick, pressing against his skin like humidity.

His eyes narrowed, catching a faint gleam tucked between a moss-covered rock and the gnarled roots of an old tree.

He approached cautiously, blade still glowing, and there it was.

A small artifact, no larger than a clenched fist, wedged tightly in the earth. Its surface pulsed faintly, runes twisting across it like living veins. The energy leaking from it was oppressive, seeping into the air and saturating the ground.

Jae crouched, studying it closely. And then he saw it, etched into the metal, subtle but unmistakable. A seal.

Behind him, Tirel gasped, the sound sharp enough to cut the silence. Her fire flared brighter, illuminating the mark fully. "That’s... that’s the royal seal."

Jae’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "You’re certain?"

"Of course I’m certain," she said, snapping as if she was insulted, though her voice trembled with disbelief. She stared at the artifact, her usual confidence cracking. "That mark belongs to the royal family. I’d stake my life on it."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the night air.

Jae looked back down at the artifact, unease twisting in his chest. If Tirel was right, and she rarely spoke without certainty, then this wasn’t just an attack from some rogue faction or random force. This was orchestrated, deliberate, and traced back to the highest bloodline in the kingdom.

The thought was enough to make his grip tighten on the dragonfire blade.

Without another word, he brought it down.

The artifact shattered instantly, breaking into pieces before dissolving into a thin wisp of black smoke. No explosion, no backlash, no grand finale. Just quiet. Quiet and the strange emptiness that followed.

Jae straightened slowly, frowning. "That’s it? After everything... it ends like this?"

Tirel folded her arms, her fire dimming to embers. "Quiet doesn’t mean harmless. If anything, I don’t like how clean that was."

He turned to her, eyes sharp. "Why would the royal family be behind this?"

The question cut the air more sharply than his blade ever could. The forest answered only with the rustle of leaves, the whistle of distant wind.

Tirel shifted uneasily, her bravado faltering. "I don’t know," she admitted, voice softer than usual. "But if it really was them..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Nothing good comes from that."

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with relief that the artifact was gone and dread at the truth it revealed.