Just as Mel reached them, his arm swung back, fist clenched, and everyone tensed, ready for the blow. But instead of striking, Mel extended his hand and opened it, revealing a small ring in his palm. He offered it to Ban.
"This is yours, right?" Mel said calmly, holding out the missing ring.
The tension immediately broke, and Ban blinked in surprise, slowly taking the ring from Mel's hand.
Ban stared at the ring in his palm, confusion flickering across his face in the warm glow of the campfire. Shadows danced on the ground, cast by the flickering flames that crackled and popped in the cool night air. "How did you…where did you find this?"
Mel shrugged, his expression neutral. "It must've fallen out of your pocket earlier. I saw it glinting on the ground and figured it was important."
Julius, sitting on a log beside Ban, elbowed him roughly, his voice tinged with impatience. "Say thank you, idiot."
Ban shot Julius a sharp look before meeting Mel's steady gaze. His voice came out gruff, almost begrudging. "Thanks." He slid the ring onto his finger, a faint clink of metal echoing between them. "I appreciate you returning it."
Mel gave a small nod, his face lit by the soft amber of the fire. "No quarrel here. What's done is done." He turned to leave, but then paused, glancing over his shoulder. His tone was calm, almost distant. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
As Mel walked back toward his group, the tension that had gripped the circle seemed to unravel, replaced by the quiet murmur of the flames. Elowen, seated across from him, nodded approvingly, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "Well handled. I was ready to knock some heads together myself."
Dorian stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he watched Mel. "Peace over vengeance, as always," he mused. "You never cease to surprise me, my friend."
Mel offered a faint smile, but there was a weight behind it, an unspoken burden clinging to him. "Some hurts run too deep for forgiveness," he said quietly, the fire casting long shadows over his face. "But tonight wasn't the night to rehash old wounds. For now, the crisis has been averted, and that'll have to be enough."
As he moved toward the heart of the festivities, the laughter and light from the campfire faded behind him. Inside, his thoughts churned, darker than the night sky above. "That was a lie," he reflected bitterly. His gaze drifted back to Julius and Ban, who were now busy with something elsewhere. "I didn't strike back because they're enemies who're bound together for the rest of their lives." His eyes clouded with sorrow, the unspoken truth weighing heavy on him like the cold earth beneath his feet.
Despite the weight of his recent thoughts, Mel's attention was soon drawn to something entirely different. At the campfire, Amara had used her ice magic to conjure delicate snowflakes that shimmered in the firelight. Mel's eyes widened in childlike wonder, his earlier sorrow forgotten as he stood up, mesmerized. He darted around the campfire, trying to catch the floating flakes, his laughter bubbling up like he was seeing magic for the first time. "What are these frozen specks of water?!" he exclaimed, chasing after them with a gleeful grin, completely lost in the moment.
The others sat around the fire, watching his playful antics. Kraven, a bit unnerved, leaned over to Draven. "That boy… he isn't right in the head, is he?" he muttered, his voice tinged with nervous confusion.
Draven sighed, crossing his arms as he shook his head in resignation. "Honestly, I have no idea anymore."
"M-Mel, could you maybe stop moving so much? These woods remind me of Eaglewood… the storm spider…" Dorian's voice trembled as his eyes darted nervously around the dark forest. He hugged himself tightly, the memory of the creature still fresh. Dracula tapped him on the shoulder suddenly.
"AH!" Dorian squealed, jumping out of his skin.
Dracula chuckled and shook his head as he sat down beside him. "The Wild Storm Spider, you say? Fun fact—it was actually created by someone from Transylvania. Years ago, it was part of my gate. Laith, the Monster Meister, made it. Ah, I wonder what happened to good old Shieka." He sighed, his gaze distant as he reminisced about the past.
"Oh, I ate her leg and killed her," Mel said casually, standing in front of the two with snowflakes still clinging to his hair. Dracula choked on his breath, eyes widening in disbelief.
"What?! How could you have accomplished such a feat? My son is clearly the one who did it!" Dracula barked, his tone sharp with disbelief and a hint of pride.
"No, it was him," Dorian muttered, avoiding Dracula's eyes. His face flushed as he confirmed Mel's claim, clearly uncomfortable with the memory. His hands fidgeted in his lap, recalling the sheer chaos of that day—the blood, his jaw breaking under Mel's grasp, the chaos that followed.
Dracula stared at him for a moment, disbelief turning into intrigue. "Hmph, I suppose I underestimated you, boy," he said, narrowing his eyes at Mel. "Though I find it hard to believe, you did what even my son struggled to accomplish."
Mel shrugged, brushing off a snowflake from his shoulder. "It wasn't that big of a deal. She was already cornered, and I did what had to be done." His voice lacked any bravado, but there was a heaviness in his words that silenced both Dracula and Dorian for a moment.
Dracula finally sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Well, Laith would be disappointed to know his creation met such an end, but… perhaps that's for the best." He glanced at Mel again, this time with something almost resembling respect.
"Hey Mel, how come Maren showed up to help us?" Elowen asked casually, tightening her grip on Aunt Abigail, who was currently in a chokehold. Abigail tapped the ground three times in surrender, and Elowen effortlessly tossed her aside, as if this was part of their regular routine.
Mel raised an eyebrow at the scene before tilting his head in thought. "Uhh, well… when I was riding Klaus, I spotted Maren wandering around like he was looking for something. We talked for a bit, but he refused to help at first. He just left." Mel paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not sure what changed his mind, but the next thing I knew, he was back with those tonfas and gloves, ready to jump in."
He let out a sigh, his eyes drifting to the embers of the campfire. "Honestly, I was struggling with the wand since I don't have my spell book. I didn't expect him to actually return, but… well, he did. And here we are." His voice trailed off, a note of exhaustion in his words.
"Who's Klaus?" Elowen asked, her brow furrowed in curiosity. Mel inhaled sharply, panic flashing across his face. Should he tell them about his encounter with Baba Yaga? About what happened after Draven stabbed him? He wasn't sure. "O-oh, it's…" He hesitated, scrambling for a convincing lie, when suddenly King Aldara stepped between them, saving him from the awkward moment.
"Hello, everyone, I have a few announcements," Aldara called out, commanding the attention of the black cards and their families as they gathered around him.
Mel exhaled in relief, grateful for the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, King Aldara is announcing things…" he mumbled under his breath, the tension in his chest easing.
Aldara's voice boomed with authority. "Starting next week, Auroria High students will be merged into the middle school," he announced, causing an immediate uproar. Gasps and murmurs erupted from the crowd.
"What?! There's definitely no space in the middle school!" Elowen shouted, echoing everyone's disbelief.
Aldara raised his hand, silencing the commotion. "Settle down. As you all know, our card system for the high school ranks students: Black cards for magical students who excel in all categories," he explained, as smug looks spread across the black card students' faces. "Red for royal students, yellow for those with technological prowess, and white for the most academically gifted."
He paused, letting his words sink in before delivering the real shock. "Previously, only three black cards were allowed per grade. But now, the school will be filled with many more races and mana using students—blending both magical and non-magical students into one unified system."
The air grew thick with dread as the news sank in. Dorian, Elowen, Mel, Amara, Cassius, Astroman, Laurel, Emrys, Kali, Jasper, Kai, and Draven all sat there, mouths agape, eyes wide in disbelief.
Mel swallowed hard, feeling a pit form in his stomach. "W-will they be Manascares… or wizards like me?" he stammered, barely able to voice his thoughts. The collective gaze of the crowd fell on him, their shared anxiety palpable. Everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing: Will they all be monsters like him? What could King Aldara possibly be planning?
King Aldara cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "I understand this comes as a shock. But hear me out - the segregation of our system has bred division for too long. It's time we brought all our students together and taught them that their worth isn't defined by letters and rankings."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Magical ability alone does not determine a person's character. With open-minded guidance, our blended school will cultivate understanding between all kinds. And to ease this transition, I will be overseeing the merge personally."
Aldara beamed proudly. "Changes can be daunting, but also bring new opportunities - if we welcome them with open and open hearts." With that, he took his leave.
As the chatter around them grew, Dorian turned to Mel and Elowen, his brow furrowed in thought. "You know, he has a point. This whole system has been strange since day one. Maybe a fresh start without rankings is exactly what we need."
Dorian couldn't have been more wrong.
The following week at Arcanum Royal Middle School, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The halls were filled with middle schoolers known for being troublemakers, kids who didn't need magic to make their presence known. Though they lacked the gifts of magical ability, their physical prowess and cunning rivaled that of the red card students—strong, street-smart, and unpredictable.
The tension was palpable.
"Man, I gotta piss," muttered a short, muscular boy with blond shaven and a red mark on his mouth, as he swaggered through the hallway, glancing around with a scowl. His tone was casual, but his words carried the confidence of someone who'd already seen his fair share of fights. "King Aldara came to my school and said I needed to be a black card." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I ain't even got no royal blood, can't build tech, and I'm dumb as hell—but I've got magic, so here I am."
Scratching his crotch absently, he strolled toward the bathroom, his footsteps heavy against the tiled floor. "Last week of October and they want me to transfer to this place? Pfft."
He paused at the bathroom door, glancing back down the hallway with a sneer, already sizing up his new environment. This wasn't just a school anymore. It was a battleground.
He swung open the stall door and found Sethanarius casually perched on the toilet paper dispenser. "Move. I gotta piss," he demanded, trying to shove Seth aside.
Seth's eyes flickered with amusement as he smacked the boy's hand away. "Move? That's no way to speak to a red card," Seth sneered, turning his hand into a backhanded slap aimed at the boy's face.
But before Seth's hand could connect, the boy caught it mid-swing, blocking the strike with ease. The air grew heavy as Seth's grin faltered. "No way to treat a red card?" the boy echoed mockingly, pulling out a sleek black card and holding it up for Seth to see. The card read:
Arid Rosethorn
Grade: 9th
Occupation: Student
Rank: Demigod
Bloodline: Descendant of Mother Nature
Seth's confidence drained from his face as he read the details, his eyes widening in shock. Arid tucked the card back into his pocket, his expression darkening. "You just attacked me. Does that mean you're looking for a fight?"
Before Seth could respond, Arid grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the ground with a deafening thud. Seth gasped in pain, the impact leaving him winded. Arid loomed over him, the threat unmistakable.
"The school's got a new anti-magic barrier," Arid growled, his voice thick with menace. "If it weren't for that, you'd be dead. Maybe I should just take over this school."
He spat on Seth's quivering form, turning away with a scoff of pure disgust. Seth lay there, bruised and humiliated on the cold, tiled floor, but even in his weakened state, he wasn't about to give Arid the satisfaction of silence.
"Y-you think you're untouchable, huh?" Seth rasped, a bitter chuckle escaping his cracked lips. "You think you can take over this school? Just because you're strong? There's more than a few students here—and only three ninth graders who stand above the rest. And guess what? You're not one of them."
Seth's words hung in the air, sharp and taunting, defiance lingering in the room as if daring Arid to prove him wrong. Arid smirked, the challenge barely worth his consideration. "Then I'll just defeat them," he said with a casual chuckle.
In the grand hall of Arcanum Middle School, Melanthius, Elowen, and Dorian sat around a table, each absorbed in their folders. "Why do I feel like someone's talking about me?" they all thought simultaneously, scratching their ears before shrugging it off.
"So now we're stuck in a class with middle schoolers. At least the anti-magic barrier is up, so we won't have to worry about intruders," Elowen said, flipping through her file of new student profiles. "No wizards, Mel," she added, glancing his way. "But look—there's a vampire! Senate Bloonic, black card, 10th grade. How fun," she teased, while Dorian grinned mischievously.
"Guess I'll just have to show her around, we vampires do get along great." He showed off his fangs.
"Who's this in the demigod section? Arid Rosethorn?" Mel asked, flipping through the folder. His eyes widened as he skimmed the details. "A literal descendant of Mother Nature? That's wild—he must be incredible!" He paused, reading further. "Wait… he's from Horace Groves. That's where Jake was born!" Mel exclaimed, the connection sparking his curiosity even more.
Jake Knight sat alone, sketching a character—his idealized self: leaner, muscular, and donning full knight armor. "What else can I add to this?" he muttered, twirling his pen thoughtfully.
As he glanced up, he was startled to see Melanthius sitting across from him. He flinched. "O-oh! Mel! It's been a while since we talked. Since, you know, the thing with the three knights," Jake said, his voice timid.
Mel chuckled. "Yeah, it's been a minute. But hey! I think I spotted an old friend of yours in the files." He slid a folder across the table, containing Arid's details.
Jake's face drained of color the moment he read the name. "A-Arid is here?!" His voice wavered with fear.