The forest screamed.
Not with sound—but with mana.
Invisible pressure waves rolled through the hunting grounds as seals embedded beneath the soil activated one after another. Ancient arrays—far older than the academies themselves—flared to life, distorting space, amplifying aggression, and severing escape routes.
Cael felt it instantly.
His steps slowed.
Crimson threads recoiled, then spread wider, burrowing deeper into the land. What they uncovered made his expression sharpen—not in fear, but in cold clarity.
"This isn't a tournament field anymore," he muttered.
"This is an execution ground."
Around him, students panicked as barriers slammed into place. The forest rearranged itself unnaturally—paths looping back on themselves, ravines widening, monster nests erupting simultaneously across multiple zones.
Someone screamed nearby.
Then another.
Then silence.
The First Deaths
A squad from a mid-ranked academy was wiped out in under a minute.
Not by monsters.
By people.
Figures cloaked in academy uniforms—but moving with lethal precision—descended on the group. Their attacks were clean, efficient, and utterly merciless. Aura blades severed limbs. Mana spears pierced hearts.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
"These aren't students," Cael said quietly.
He watched from the shadows as blood soaked into the soil.
"They're family enforcers."
The Top Ten Families had finally removed the mask.
Crimson Order's Opening Strike
The first direct attempt on Cael's life came without warning.
A ripple in the air—then pain.
A spike of corrupted blood-mana surged toward his spine, aimed precisely at the core where his heart should have been. Any normal cultivator would have been crippled instantly.
The attack froze mid-air.
Cael turned slowly.
Crimson threads wrapped around the hostile mana like chains, crushing and absorbing it. His blood responded eagerly, devouring the imitation technique with contempt.
"So," he said softly, "you're done pretending."
The attacker stepped into view.
A Crimson Order executor.
Not the descendant—not yet—but an elder-trained blade meant to erase problems quietly. His eyes widened the moment he saw the absorbed technique vanish into Cael's body.
"That's impossible—"
Cael moved.
No flashy techniques. No wasted motion.
One step forward.
The man's blood reversed inside his veins.
His scream lasted half a second before his body collapsed in on itself, bones snapping as internal pressure annihilated him from within.
Cael didn't look down.
"One," he counted.
The Frostveil Heiress in Danger—Again
Elsewhere, chaos reigned.
The Frostveil heiress fought back-to-back with students she barely trusted, ice storms raging around her. Her power was undeniable—frozen lances skewered monsters mid-charge, glacial walls reshaped the battlefield.
But the pressure kept mounting.
She felt it.
This wasn't random.
Her enemies were herding her.
"Something's wrong," she said sharply.
Too late.
A Gravewind Sect necromancer emerged behind her, skeletal constructs erupting from the ground. Shadow manipulators from the Noctis Family cut off her escape routes, blades glimmering with poisoned aura.
They weren't trying to test her.
They were trying to remove variables.
And she was one.
Her ice cracked under the combined assault.
Blood trickled from her lip.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The necromancer's spine twisted violently.
The shadows froze—literally—then shattered.
Crimson mist filled the air.
Cael stood between her and death, blood threads anchoring the battlefield like a spider's web.
"You're surrounded because you're predictable," he said calmly.
"Move when I tell you to."
She stared at him.
"You came… again."
"I was nearby," he replied. "Don't assign meaning to it."
Yet his blood formed a barrier around her without conscious effort.
She didn't miss that.
Witnesses Begin to Understand
Students watching from afar felt it.
That oppressive presence.
"That junior…" someone whispered. "He's killing them."
"Not monsters—them."
Even hardened competitors felt their instincts scream.
This wasn't talent.
This wasn't genius.
This was something older.
Something that remembered slaughter.
The Crimson Heir Loses Control
The descendant of the Crimson Order finally snapped.
He watched Cael dismantle elite operatives—blood techniques stolen, refined, and weaponized far beyond his family's understanding.
"That power should be ours!" he roared.
His engagement meant nothing now.
The Frostveil heiress meant nothing.
There was only humiliation.
He activated a forbidden seal burned into his flesh—one that forcefully awakened dormant bloodline echoes at the cost of lifespan.
His aura exploded.
"CAEL!"
The shout echoed across the forest.
Every thread of blood Cael controlled vibrated in response.
He turned slowly, eyes glowing like fresh slaughter.
"So," Cael said, voice almost gentle,
"you finally decided to show yourself."
A Message to the Families
Before the heir could attack, the world shifted.
Cael raised his hand.
The ground shook violently as blood—ancient blood—rose from beneath the soil. Not just from corpses, but from remnants soaked into the land over centuries of war and death.
The battlefield went silent.
Every hidden agent froze.
Every observing family felt it.
"This is your warning," Cael said, his voice carrying unnaturally far.
"You wanted to hunt me inside a tournament."
Crimson pressure crushed the air.
"Now I'm hunting you."
Somewhere far away, within sealed halls and mirrored chambers, elders stiffened.
"That presence…" murmured the Gravewind Sect.
"It feels like an Immortal," whispered Stormveil House.
The Helior Dynasty went silent.
Only the Crimson Order trembled.
The Frostveil Heiress Makes a Choice
As Cael stepped forward to meet the Crimson heir, the Frostveil heiress reached out instinctively—
Then stopped.
She realized something terrifying.
He didn't need her help.
He didn't want her protection.
He wasn't fighting for recognition, love, or revenge.
He was fighting because they dared exist in his path.
And somehow…
That made her want to stand beside him anyway.
The Line Is Crossed
The tournament was broken.
Rules meaningless.
Deaths mounting.
And at its center stood a junior student with blood-soaked power that made ancient families uneasy.
Cael rolled his shoulders once, blood humming eagerly beneath his skin.
"Come," he said to the Crimson heir.
"Show me how your ancestor betrayed me."
The forest held its breath.
And somewhere in the shadows, fate began counting down the moments until one of the Top Ten Families would be erased.