Aerin didn't sleep that night.
He sat by his window, his grandmother's journal in his hands. The leather was warm against his palms-unnaturally warm,almost like it was alive.
He tried opening it. The cover wouldn't budge. Tried pressing his bloodied thumb against it. Nothing. Tried feeding it a drop of blood like he did with Sangreal. Still nothing.
It only opens for Arclight blood, Arvell had said. But Aerin was an Arclight. So why wouldn't it open?
He set it aside as dawn broke. Whatever secret his grandmother had died protecting would have to wait.
---
Master Thorne interrupted Blood Magic Fundamentals at mid-morning.
His black eyes swept across the room. "The Night Hunt begins in two days. Ten students have been selected from S-Class."
The room went silent. Everyone was suddenly tensed.
"Selected students will report to the main courtyard in one hour for briefing. The list is posted." Thorne's smile was cold. "Good luck. Some of you will need it."
He left.
The entire class rushed to the notice board in the hallway. Aerin stayed back, letting them push and shove ahead.
When the crowd thinned, he approached.
NIGHT HUNT PARTICIPANTS
1. Seren Moonveil
2. Prince Theron Valdris
3. Helena Stross
4. Kael Verin
5. Aerin Arclight
6. Marcus Delvine
7. Nina Cors
8. Ren Tallis
9. Dmitri Kovac
10. Yuki Ashford
His stomach dropped. Marcus—the earth mage he'd beaten in the ranking matches. The one who'd called him a beggar and been humiliated. He'd be on this mission.
Kael appeared beside him, grinning. "We both made it! This is going to be amazing."
"It's going to be dangerous!"
"That's what makes it amazing." But Kael's grin faded slightly when he saw Aerin's expression. "Hey. We watch each other's backs, remember? We'll be fine."
Aerin wanted to believe that. But Arvell's warning echoed in his mind: The Ashen Hand will use this as cover for assassination.
"Yeah," Aerin said. "We'll be fine."
---
One hour later, the ten selected students gathered in the main courtyard.
Examiner Veld stood on a platform, his face was impassive. Behind him, a massive map of the Bloodwood Forest hung from a frame—dark green and red markings showing monster territories.
"The Night Hunt is a tradition dating back two centuries," Veld began. "It separates students from true mages. Tests your skills in real combat against real threats."
He gestured to the map. "The Bloodwood Forest. Three miles north of the academy. Home to C-rank and B-rank monsters—dire wolves, shadow stalkers, occasionally something worse. Your mission is simple: Enter at sunset. Hunt monsters. Collect their cores as proof. Return at dawn-Alive if you can."
Someone raised their hand—Nina Cors, a water mage. "What if we don't return?"
"Then you weren't ready to be mages." Veld's expression didn't change. "Healers will be stationed at the forest's edge. Not inside. If you get in serious trouble, retreat. Pride isn't worth death."
Prince Theron stepped forward. "Will we work as a team or something?"
"That's your choice. Some years, students work together. Others split up for glory." Veld's eyes swept across them. "Do whatever gives you the best chance of survival." Veld added.
He handed out small pouches. "Storage pouches for cores. Also contains one healing potion, one emergency flare. The flare summons immediate extraction—but using it means automatic failure."
Aerin took his pouch. The single healing potion inside felt inadequate.
"Equipment check is this evening. Dismissed."
---
The armory buzzed with nervous energy.
Students checked weapons, tested armor, argued about strategy. Aerin stayed to the side, checking Sangreal's bindings for the third time.
"Nervous?"
He turned. Seren stood there, Eclipsa strapped across her back. Her silver hair was pulled back in a practical braid. She looked... battle-ready. Dangerous.
"A little," Aerin admitted.
"Good. Overconfidence kills you in this hunt." She glanced around, then lowered her voice. "The forest at night is different than training grounds. Monsters hunt in packs. Use terrain. Some can sense magic and will target the strongest first."
"Why tell me this?"
Seren's jaw tightened. "Because I'd prefer you survive. For... strategic reasons."
"Strategic reasons."
"Yes." Her eyes met his briefly. Something unspoken passed between them. "Just don't die, Arclight."
She walked away before he could respond.
Kael appeared moments later. "Was that Seren Moonveil giving you advice? The Ice Princess herself?"
"She was just-"
"Just caring whether you live or die?" Kael's grin was knowing. "Interesting."
"It's not like that."
"Sure it's not." Kael's expression turned serious. "Hey, real talk though. Someone's been watching you."
Aerin tensed. "What?"
"All day. Noticed it during the briefing. Someone in the crowd kept staring at you. Not normal staring-the kind that makes your neck itch." Kael glanced around. "Didn't see who. Their face was covered and perfectly hidden within the crowd.But you should be careful."
Aerin followed his gaze. Dozens of students milled about. Any one of them could be Ashen Hand. Or none of them.
"I will. Thanks for the warning."
"That's what friends do." Kael clapped his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get food before tomorrow. Might be our last decent meal for a while."
---
That night, Aerin couldn't sit still.
He went to the old practice yard behind the armory. Empty, Dark.
He drew Sangreal and Fed it blood.
The crimson veins erupted up his arm. Power flooded through him. He pushed harder this time. Fifty seconds. Fifty-five.
At sixty seconds, his vision blurred. He released the connection and collapsed to his knees, gasping.
One minute. He'd held Crimson Pulse for a full minute.
It's Progress. But would it be enough?
He stayed there, catching his breath, until he felt steady enough to walk back.
His room was dark when he returned. Aerin lit a candle and-
Froze.
Something was on his windowsill.
A black bird one with a glossy and dark feathers.
And beneath it, scratched into the wooden sill in dried blood:
The forest remembers blood.
Aerin's hand went to Sangreal instinctively. He checked every corner of his room. Under the bed. Behind the door, The closet.
Empty.
But someone had been here. Had left this message while he was training.
The Ashen Hand knew his schedule. Knew where he'd be. Could reach him even inside the academy.
Aerin picked up the bird carefully and threw it out the window and scrubbed at the message until his fingers bled.
But he couldn't scrub away the certainty:
Tomorrow night, in the Bloodwood Forest, they would come for him.
And he'd have to be ready.