The Anomaly's Path

The silence in the plaza dragged on, heavy and awkward.

Dozens of eyes were locked on us. Second-years with bloody bandages, third-years leaning on their shields, and Professor Veyra herself, all staring at us like we had dropped out of nowhere. I slowly stood up straight, brushing the dust off my coat.

My coat was covered in dirt, and my legs ached from all the running.

I cursed inwardly. Damn it, I should have never listened to that bastard Roan.

Ten minutes ago, he had told us with absolute confidence that he knew a shortcut around the blocked streets. According to him, going through the second floor of a building and dropping through the roof would save us time and help us avoid some monsters.

Instead, he misjudged a wooden post, brought down part of the ceiling, and forced us to run across a cracked walkway before we crashed straight through the roof into the plaza. That was his idea of a grand entrance. A complete, chaotic mess.

Roan cleared his throat, his hand still resting on my shoulder as he offered a weak, shameless grin to the dead-silent crowd. Before I could turn around and drive my elbow into his ribs, Professor Veyra stepped forward, her dark eyes cutting through the remaining dust.

"Leo... what was that absurd entrance?" Veyra asked, her raw voice laced with sharp disbelief. "Are you three serious right now?"

"Sorry about the dramatic entrance," I said, rubbing the back of my head. "We didn’t mean to break the roof. The Student Council President sent us. Elian and Sylvia will handle the central plaza while we are here to help."

Veyra’s gaze stayed on us for a long moment, taking in our appearance before her shoulders dropped slightly. She let out a long sigh. "...Good. We were getting pushed hard ten minutes ago. The shelter doors are holding, but the purple mist is leaking, and more monsters are coming."

"We saw the mist rising on the way down," I said, glancing toward the broken wall at the far end of the square. "It’s not just Grade 4s and 5s coming through anymore. They’re gathering outside the streets."

Veyra’s face grew serious as she took in the information. "What about the main valley? What’s happening there?"

"Damon and Morgana are heading toward the main breach," I said. "The Gate boss is trying to come out. They’re going to be stuck trying to hold it down or delay it until the main help from the Astra Union arrives."

Veyra nodded slowly, her face hardening. "Then that means they can’t focus on the other monsters roaming the edges. We just have to keep this shelter safe until the main breach is contained."

"How are the civilians? Are they safe?" I asked. My eyes shifted past Veyra, taking in the rest of the plaza.

I glanced across the square, taking in the state of the defenders. The fight here had clearly been brutal. Students were slumped against walls, exhausted and drained of mana, their weapons resting limply in their hands.

I saw Amelia sitting near the shelter wall, looking up at me with widened, exhausted eyes. Beside her, Nyra was staring in our direction as well, chewing rapidly on something. And then my eyes settled on Seris. Her crimson eyes were fixed on me, steady and calm amidst the surrounding mess.

"Terrified, but safe," Veyra replied, bringing my focus back to her.

"We have a few wounded students resting near the wall, but everyone’s stable for now. For now, the area is clear of monsters, but we don’t know when the next wave will break through. Everyone needs to rest and recover what mana they can."

"Understood, Professor," I said.

Veyra gave a quick nod before turning around to address the rest of the fighters, calling out orders for the third-years to set up a watch near the narrow streets while the rest recovered.

Roan stretched his arms with a loud groan, slapping my back. "Well, my job here is done for a minute. I’m going to find a nice place to sit before my legs fall off."

Elisabeth glared at him, shaking her head in utter annoyance. "You deserve to have your legs fall off after that shortcut."

She walked past him toward a low wall near the shelter entrance to rest.

I took a slow breath, walking away from the main group toward a quiet spot at the edge of the square. Even with my high mana recovery rate, running across the city and crashing through a roof had taken a bit of toll, and I needed a moment to catch my breath.

I walked over to a bench sitting near a dead tree, leaning against the wall to take the weight off my legs. The air here was cooler, though it still carried the faint smell of blood. As I stood there taking slow breaths, I felt someone step up beside me.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Seris stood a step away, her pale hands resting loosely behind her back, her crimson eyes watching the fog drift through the street. We stood there in silence for a few long seconds. It was slightly awkward, neither of us really knew what to say first after the ridiculous entrance we had just made.

Then, both of us spoke at the exact same time.

"Are you—"

"How is—"

We both stopped immediately.

I cleared my throat. "...You go first."

Seris kept her eyes on the alleyway, her expression flat and unreadable. "How is Sylvia?"

"She’s fine," I said, leaning back against the bench. "...Just exhausted. She’s been pushing herself non-stop since the barrier cracked, but she’s safe."

I paused for a second, a weird thought suddenly crossing my mind. Wait... why did she ask about Sylvia first? Why didn’t she ask about me?

I caught myself almost instantly, a faint brow twitch of self-irritation hitting me. Why the hell am I even thinking like that? What is wrong with me?

Now that I actually thought about it, every time I got involved with these powerful, complicated women, whether it was noble heirs like Amelia, royalty like Cordelia, or someone like Seris — something annoying, painful, or terrible happened to me right after.

It was almost a curse.

Getting mixed up with them usually meant getting dragged into political messes, public scandals, or monsters trying to kill me.

And Seris was easily at the top of that list.

She was strange, cold, and completely impossible to read... and the person who had literally run a blade straight through my chest to save my life during the Gate Tournament. That moment had burned itself into my head, not because of the pain.

But because she hadn’t hesitated for a single second. She had done what needed to be done, cold and practical, even if it meant stabbing me. I respected that about her, even if her deadpan humor and blunt comments constantly got under my skin.

My reckless nature always dragged me into deep water, charging into danger without thinking, making sarcastic remarks to the wrong nobles, constantly fighting my way out of messes. And somehow, Seris kept getting pulled right into the middle of them.

She was there when my Soul Flame went out of control and she had to stab me. She was there when I caught her nearly blowing up the academy kitchen in a cloud of flour while trying to bake a cake with her bare hands.

She was the one who left a half-eaten chocolate bar and a note with clumsy handwriting outside my room while I was recovering.

She was there when I asked her to dinner, and when Roan rigged that damn dance draw and forced us onto the floor together under everyone eyes. She just kept appearing at the worst, and strangest, moments in my life.

The worst part was, I owed her. I owed her for saving my life, for helping me with Julian, for not judging me when I made a complete fool of myself.

But it bothered me that she never asked for anything in return. She just showed up, handled the crisis, and retreated back into her quiet distance. I didn’t get why she kept helping me, and that lack of a motive made me uncomfortable.

I knew she was carrying her own weight, a broken connection to her goddess, a heavy silence, a quiet loneliness that mirrored my own. She wasn’t cold for no reason, she was cold because she’d been hurt.

And as much as I told myself to keep my distance from her, something kept pulling us back into the same room. I didn’t want to run from it, but I didn’t have the slightest clue what I was supposed to do about it either.

"And you?" Seris asked, her voice cutting through my internal complaining.

I blinked, turning my head to look at her. She had tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes resting on my face.

"Are you asking about me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seris didn’t even twitch. "Is there anyone else standing here?"

I let out a dry, quiet cough, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, well... I’m fine. Takes a lot more than a broken roof to do anything to me."

I glanced her over, taking in the dirt on her dress and the bloodstains on her sleeves. "What about you? Looks like you went through your own version of hell out here, though."

"I was just doing my duty," Seris said quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on the street ahead.

"You always make life-and-death fights sound like routine chores," I muttered, shaking my head.

"It’s better than turning a simple walk into a rooftop collapse," she replied flatly, without missing a beat.

Another quiet beat fell between us. The silence dragged on, heavy and thick.

Damn it, I thought. Has it always been this weird between us?

Was it because of that dance a few hours ago? Ever since Roan rigged that stupid draw and forced us onto the floor under the lanterns, standing next to her felt completely off-balance. Neither of us was talking, and the awkwardness was starting to get on my nerves.

It was a matter of pride at this point. I couldn’t just stand here looking like an idiot who forgot how to speak.

I took a breath, turning my head toward her to break the silence—

Before a single word could leave my mouth, a pale, cold hand suddenly clamped over my lips. Seris had moved instantly. Her slender fingers pressed against my face, firm and tight, locking my jaw shut.

My eyes widened in surprise, but before I could yank myself back, a sudden realization hit me.

Holy shit, her fingers are frozen. Wait, does this girl even have body heat? Is she secretly a corpse? Did she drag her hands through an ice bucket before coming here?!

Before I could voice any of these incredibly important concerns, she leaned in slightly, her crimson eyes dead serious.

"Quiet," she whispered directly into my ear.

She held her hand there for a second longer, making sure I wasn’t going to speak, before slowly lowering her arm back to her side. Her body instantly tensed, her posture shifting into a low ready stance as her gaze locked onto the dark mouth of the alley.

"...I sense something," she murmured, her knuckles whitening as her grip tightened on her sword hilt.

I stopped complaining inside my head. My instincts kicked in a second later, a cold spike of danger running down my back. The air had changed.

The thin purple mist that had been drifting lazily across the ground suddenly surged outward, swelling like a wave. The lights from the nearby lamps flickered and died down into a deep, sickly violet glow as the temperature dropped.

Fuck, I cursed silently. About damn time.

I reached down, my fingers wrapping tightly around the handle of Tempest. With a sharp ring, I pulled the blade free, the dark steel reflecting the dim purple light as the ground beneath us shook violently.

From deep inside the fog, a loud, grinding roar shook the dust off the buildings, and the next wave hit.

_

Meanwhile, on the high ridge overlooking the Sealed Valley...

Vance pushed his way through the dense purple fog, coughing as the thick, corrupted air burned the back of his throat. Every breath felt like inhaling glass, but he forced his feet to keep moving up the steep, cracked incline.

He was terrified. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and his chest felt so tight he could barely breathe.

He hated pain, and the thought of dying out here on the rocks made his stomach turn. But he also knew that if the barrier completely collapsed right now, everyone in the city would die long before the Union reinforcements could arrive.

Worse, Damon and Morgana couldn’t possibly take down that main boss monster while also dealing with an endless flood of beasts.

If the relay tower didn’t hold, no one was surviving this.

"Professor Vance, wait up!"

Vance paused, turning his head to look back down the path. Three guards were climbing up the steep path after him, their weapons drawn and their faces pale. They were breathing hard, struggling to keep up while carrying heavy boxes of tools.

"Helene sent you?" Vance called out, his voice thin against the wind.

"She knew you wouldn’t listen," one of the guards said, reaching Vance’s side and leaning on his spear to catch his breath. "She ordered us to guard you. You aren’t reaching that tower alone, sir."

Vance let out a dry, shaky breath, a small nod slipping out despite his fear. "Good. Because if any of those things jump us, I’m useless."

They kept moving, pushing past the last of the open ground until the ridge flattened out. Ahead of them, sitting right on the cliff’s edge facing the Sealed Valley, stood the main relay tower.

It was a tall, solid structure built from dark stone, standing against the open, stormy sky. Deep channels were carved into its outer walls, but instead of glowing with their usual steady light, they were sparking wildly.

Cracks ran up the base where corrupted mana had forced its way into the foundation. Below the cliff, the sky was completely split open by the floating Grade 8 Gate, pouring endless waves of purple mist into the valley.

The wind up here was fierce, carrying the distant roars of high-grade monsters crawling along the valley walls.

Vance stared up at the broken tower, his heart pounding against his ribs.

"Alright..." he whispered to himself, trying to steady his shaking hands. "Time to do my job."

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