"That’s it?" Jacob sighed in disappointment, rolling his shoulders before reaching behind him. A sword materialized in his grip, engulfed in blazing green fire. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a torrent of emerald flames at Titian. Titian barely sidestepped—only for the fire to twist midair, curving back toward him like a living beast.

  His eyes widened as he raised a barrier just in time. “What the hell is this guy?!”

  Jacob cracked his neck and extended his hand, his fingers twitching as a massive, crumbling structure levitated into the air. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled it at Titian like a meteor.

  Titian’s eyes flickered with surprise before he launched himself skyward, fist colliding with the debris, shattering it into dust.

  Jacob sighed dramatically, tilting his head. “My creator is trying to sleep. So can’t you just die already?”

  Titian barely had time to react before Jacob blurred forward, his sword now ablaze with purple fire. The moment Titian dodged the initial arc, the blade twisted mid-air, its trajectory shifting unnaturally downward—carving into his chest.

  Titian grunted in pain, staggering back as he clutched his wound, blood trickling between his fingers. With a growl, he drove his foot into Jacob’s torso, launching him into the sky.

  Jacob’s eyes widened as the wind whistled past him, but before he could recover, Titian was already above him, ready to strike.

  Instead of panic, Jacob grinned.

  A flicker—then suddenly, he was above Titian instead.

  “This is gonna be fun—thanks!” he laughed, before driving his knee into Titian’s ribs, sending them both plummeting back toward the burning ruins below.

  Titian let out a pained yell as the impact cracked his ribs. Jacob wiped the blood from his chin, his smirk unwavering.

  “Jake’s Evil Eye brought me to life,” he mused, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t completely get it, but I guess I’m a split personality now. I know everything he knows—plus all the stuff he dreamed up when he created me.”

  His smile widened, sharp and confident. “And that means I know exactly how to win.”

  Titian flinched as Jacob extended his hand, expecting another surge of magic—but nothing happened.

  “Huh? Is my magic… limited?” Jacob muttered, his expression momentarily puzzled.

  Titian seized the opening, roaring as he forged a titanium orb in an instant, launching it straight at Jacob. The impact slammed into his head, sending him hurtling backward into the raging flames.

  Titian scoffed, watching the fire engulf his opponent. “Your creator is nothing like Ethan,” he sneered. “Jake wields one of the strongest magical anomalies in the world. And you? You’re just a drawing brought to life—don’t you get it?”

  Through the smoke and embers, a blade glowed.

  Jacob emerged, gripping his sword, now blazing with rainbow fire. His grin widened, eyes burning with newfound confidence.

  “I do understand,” he said, voice dripping with pride. “I understand that nobody is as strong as my creator.”

  With a burst of speed, he dashed at Titian, his blade leaving a streak of multicolored flames in its wake.

  Titian’s eyes narrowed. “Then let’s end this!” he growled, charging forward to meet him.

  Moments later…

  Jake’s body convulsed as it shrank back to its usual short, stocky frame. His glowing eye mark faded, and his consciousness snapped back.

  Pain exploded through him.

  His bones ached, every breath sent fire through his ribs, and blood spilled from his lips as he coughed violently.

  “Aah! My body—my body hurts so much!” he sobbed, his voice raw. “Someone help!”

  Titian silenced him with a boot pressed against his mouth.

  “Shut up already.”

  The flames around them crackled, their heat licking at the ruins, as Jake sniffled, his mind reeling. Jacob’s memories—his fight, his thoughts, his instincts—began flooding into him.

  His eyes widened. “I-I have magic?!” he gasped, his voice filled with shock and disbelief.

  Titian glanced around the burning battlefield, then crouched beside Jake, gripping his jaw with bruising force.

  “Technically. But what you have isn’t just magic—it’s a rare gift.” Titian’s voice dropped into something almost dangerously amused. “The Evil Eye isn’t something anyone is just born with. You—” He sneered, squeezing Jake’s jaw a little harder. “You created a split personality—from your own drawing.”

  Titian’s eyes darkened, and a dangerous smile played on his lips. “That bastard broke my wrist, shattered my knee, and crushed my trachea.” His grip tightened. “And you—”

  Jake squirmed, the pressure making him whimper.

  Titian finally let go with a scoff. “Anyway, your brother is your father’s affair child. Of course, you wouldn’t know him. He rules the Sloth Kingdom.”

  Jake’s head pounded, his body wracked with pain, but through the fog of exhaustion, he winced and whispered, “I just… I just wanted to find Yasmine—the Priestess of the Stars.”

  Titian’s brows shot up.

  His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he rubbed his chin, a chuckle escaping him.

  “Pride Kingdom.” His voice was laced with something almost entertained. “Go there. You’ll find your answers.”

  Before Jake could react, Titian grabbed him and threw him back up the hole he had fallen through.

  Jake landed hard on the ground, gasping in pain as the reality of everything crashed down on him.

  The next day, Jake sat across from Mel, his body wrapped in bandages and encased in multiple casts. He winced as Mel blew a soft cloud of healing mist over him, his pain easing almost instantly.

  Jake let out a deep, shaky exhale. “Ahh…”

  Mel tilted his head. “Better?”

  Jake nodded frantically, his whole body trembling from relief. “B–better!”

  Nearby, Althara paced back and forth, her expression hardened with frustration.

  “So, he told you to go to Pride Kingdom?” She stopped in her tracks, crossing her arms. “You shouldn’t have gone alone, Jake. Titian could’ve killed you.”

  Jake nodded weakly, his voice raspy from exhaustion. “If it wasn’t for Jacob, he probably would’ve.” He exhaled, then turned to Mel with a small chuckle. “You were right. I do have magic.”

  Mel gave him a knowing smile but quickly shook his head. “That doesn’t change the fact that what you did was reckless. You should’ve told someone before pulling something like that.” His tone turned firm. “Even if you didn’t fall into that pit, Liam’s minions would’ve found another way to get to you.”

  Jake fidgeted, but his grin remained. “Yeah, but… I have magic.”

  Mel narrowed his eyes. “Do you even know how to use it responsibly?”

  Jake blinked.

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  “Your Evil Eye created a split personality—one that’s stronger, smarter, and nearly on par with Titian. You can’t even control it.”

  Jake opened his mouth to argue—but then stopped.

  Because Mel was right.

  Jake looked down, his earlier excitement dimming.

  “…Can’t you train me?” he asked, glancing back up. “I saw how you trained Lance. He was just some scrawny middle schooler—now he’s buff as hell and one of the strongest non-magic users I know. And that’s because of you.”

  Mel let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples.

  “I can’t train you and keep Althara occupied at the same time,” he muttered. “Besides… I can’t train magic I don’t understand.”

  Jake leaned his head back against the bed frame, frustration settling in.

  “I just ask for one thing…” he whispered.

  Mel bit his bottom lip, hesitating for a moment before standing up.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said simply, turning toward the door. “Come on, Althara.”

  Without another word, Althara followed him, leaving Jake alone in his dorm—staring at the ceiling, his mind racing.

  Mel and Althara stepped out of the dorms, the cool air brushing against them as they walked down the corridor. Before they could take another step, a boy hurried toward them, eyes bright with excitement.

  Mel offered a polite nod. “Hello—”

  Before he could finish, the boy whipped out a pen and paper, thrusting them toward Althara.

  “Ms. Althara Shadowbane! Can I have your autograph? I heard you helped take down the serial killer!”

  Althara stiffened. “O-oh… yeah…” she mumbled, caught completely off guard.

  She hesitated before signing her name, the action feeling oddly foreign. As soon as she handed the paper back, the boy beamed and practically bounced in excitement.

  “Thank you so much!” he shouted, then sprinted off, grinning ear to ear.

  Mel chuckled, watching the kid disappear into the crowd. Meanwhile, Althara stared after him, utterly baffled.

  “Wait… what just happened?” she asked, still processing the interaction.

  Mel smirked, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “You have fans now.”

  Althara’s eyebrows shot up. “Fans?” She repeated the word, rolling it around in her mouth as if testing how it felt. “That sounds… weird.”

  Mel laughed, but before he could respond, Althara suddenly tensed, her body jerking as she frantically patted herself down.

  “W-what is this?! I-it’s on me!” she yelped, twisting around in panic.

  Mel arched a brow, then casually reached behind her and pulled something from her back pocket—his phone.

  “You mean this?” he asked dryly.

  Althara blinked. “Huh?”

  Mel glanced at the screen. “Draven?” he muttered, noticing an incoming call. Then, a text popped up:

  Draven: King Melanthius, meet me in the school’s gym. Bring Althara.

  Mel’s fingers moved swiftly over the screen.

  Mel: Why?

  Draven: It’s game time.

  Mel raised an eyebrow before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

  “Well?” He turned to Althara. “Wanna go to the school gym?”

  Althara hummed in thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

  Moments later, inside the school gym…

  Mel and Althara stepped in, their eyes sweeping over the group assembled before them. On the bleachers sat Arid, Lincoln, Renita, Cassius, Amara, Bimoth, Caius, Sera, Lumi, Dontai, and Shenelle. Among them, only Mel, Caius, Sera, Lumi, Dontai, and Aegis knew Shenelle’s true identity as Baba Yaga.

  Across from them, King Aldara stood alongside Headmaster Draven, Jasper, Kai, and the wardens—Benjamin Lovett, Chandler Addison, Allynna Thelee, Victoria Bexley, and Aegis Salman. They were gathered around a holographic board, its glowing interface casting an eerie light across their faces.

  King Aldara turned toward Mel and Althara, motioning for them to take a seat on the bleachers. They did so without hesitation.

  Aldara’s voice carried through the gym. “Greetings, everyone. I appreciate your attention. I apologize for the sudden summons, but this matter is of grave importance.”

  The gym fell into silence, all eyes on him.

  “As you are all aware,” Aldara continued, “we recently suffered an attack—one carried out by a supposedly dead serial killer, Mordrain the Hollow. In his past life, he claimed many victims, and upon his resurrection, he managed to take a few more before being stopped.”

  He paused, his gaze shifting to Lincoln. “Thanks to Lincoln’s bravery, Mordrain has been defeated.”

  A soft round of applause spread through the group, though the weight of the discussion kept their expressions somber.

  Clearing his throat, Aldara pressed on. “According to Headmaster Draven, Mordrain mentioned that he hailed from Pride. Given this revelation, we suspect that someone from the Pride Kingdom may have been responsible for his resurrection—and possibly sent him here.”

  He folded his hands behind his back. “At this point, it’s only a theory, but one we cannot ignore.”

  A moment of silence passed before Althara raised her hand.

  “Your Majesty,” she said, her voice firm yet measured. “I’ve been to the Pride Kingdom. I know their king. He’s strong, arrogant, and deeply prideful. If he truly intended to attack us, he wouldn’t hide behind resurrected killers—he’d march in himself.”

  Murmurs rippled through the room as all eyes turned to Althara, her words stirring an unspoken tension.

  King Aldara's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "You know the king of the Pride Kingdom? Wait... do you know all the kings of the Seven Deadly Kingdoms?"

  At his question, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned to Althara. The sudden attention made her shrink back slightly, her fingers curling into her lap. She might have stayed silent—might have let the weight of her past keep her lips sealed—if not for Mel.

  Gently, he placed his hand over hers. “Take your time.” His voice was soft, reassuring.

  Althara inhaled deeply, then exhaled, steadying herself.

  “About four years ago, I was close with King Carter Angelo of the Pride Kingdom, King Ethan Knight of the Sloth Kingdom, and King Charles Pierce of the Lust Kingdom. Back then, we were just friends… before Titian forced us into power, making us take over our respective kingdoms to fuel his greed.”

  She paused, her expression darkening. “I was the Queen of Gluttony before I ran away. But unlike me, the others embraced their thrones. They became obsessed with the power, the status, and the wealth that came with ruling. I refused to become a pawn in Titian’s game, so I returned to Gluttony—this time, not as a queen, but as the owner of a casino. I thought I could make enough money to free them, to pull them out before it was too late.”

  Her hands clenched into fists. “But the current Queen of Gluttony, Stella, grew reckless. She got greedy, drawing too much attention, making too many dangerous moves. I knew if I stayed any longer, I’d get caught in the storm.”

  Her voice softened as she lowered her gaze. “So I left… and came here to see Anita one last time.”

  King Percival hummed thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to Althara. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you as a child." Lowering himself to one knee before her, his voice was gentle but firm. "You're here now... and we need you, Althara. Do you think you’re comfortable sharing what you know about their business?"

  Althara sniffled, quickly wiping her nose before nodding. “Pride Kingdom... the last I knew, it was a coliseum. They made their wealth by forcing people to fight to the death. If a fighter proved strong enough, they were sold to the highest bidder, fueling an endless cycle of blood and greed.”

  A heavy silence fell over the room. Expressions twisted in a mix of anger and sorrow.

  “How could anyone do that to people?” Cassius growled, his fists clenched at his sides.

  King Aldara exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "If Pride Kingdom did send Mordrain, that would mean they're preparing for war. But if Mordrain was lying... we can’t act recklessly."

  Althara hesitated before raising her hand. “One more thing—back in the day, Camelot was one of their biggest sources of profit.”

  The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, heavy with tension.

  Mel, who had been sitting quietly on the bleachers, stood up abruptly. Without a word, he jumped down, his expression unreadable. Then, he turned to Althara with a small smile. "Come on."

  She blinked at him, confused. "Why? Where are we going?"

  Mel took off his Atlantean necklace and placed it around her neck. “To Pride Kingdom. We're going to see what’s going on.” He ruffled her hair gently before turning away, his face darkening with restrained fury as he strode toward the exit.

  “Wait, Melanthius!” Jasper called out, but Draven placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

  "Let him go," Draven murmured. "If we try to stop King Melanthius now, he'll take us all down and still go to Pride." His sharp gaze followed Mel and Althara as they disappeared through the doors.

  Across the gym, Shenelle pointed at Caius, Sera, and Lumi. "We're going home."

  Sera hesitated. "But we wanted to help—"

  A single glance from Shenelle silenced her, and with a reluctant sigh, she followed as they exited the gym.

  Then, Cassius and Amara stood up. "Your Majesty, permission to join the mission to Pride Kingdom?" Cassius asked.

  King Percival tilted his head. "Mission? We’re not sending anyone anywhere yet."

  Cassius smirked and gestured behind him. "I wasn’t talking to you, Your Majesty. I was talking to former King Bimoth."

  All eyes turned toward Bimoth, who was already making his way toward the door. He stopped, scratching the back of his neck.

  "I have questions for the Seven Deadly Kingdoms," Bimoth said coolly. "You can come if you want—but don’t slow me down."

  Without another word, Cassius and Amara exchanged glances before jogging after him, falling into step as they left the gym.

  “I don’t think I’m ready to fight…” Renita admitted, her voice uncertain as she looked at Lincoln and Arid.

  Arid gave her a reassuring nod. “Then stay here. No shame in that.”

  Lincoln, however, straightened his back. “You can stay, but I’m going.” Without another word, he turned toward the exit, his footsteps steady with determination.

  Arid let out a small sigh before following him.

  King Percival, watching the group scatter, exhaled heavily and rubbed his temples. “Draven, take the wardens and head to Pride Kingdom. Jasper and Kai will oversee the school in your absence.” His gaze met Draven’s. “Only if you’re willing.”

  Draven nodded without hesitation. “Understood.” With that, he signaled to the wardens, and together they made their way toward the exit, their presence radiating an air of silent authority.