Martial Demons Ascension

Rhyka didn't move from his spot.

After his short greeting to Rinnte and Eto, he simply turned his attention back to the trail ahead, posture relaxed but unyielding, as if he were waiting for someone specific.

The other students began to filter in, pairs and small groups rounding the bend and spotting him A few slowed down when they saw him, then picked up again, pretending his presence didn't mean anything Others didn't bother hiding their reactions small smirks, sidelong glances, muttered comments just loud enough to carry.

When the first chuckles started, Rhyka didn't so much as glance at them He kept his gaze forward, chin slightly raised On the outside, he looked composed, almost bored. Inside, his jaw was tight and his teeth pressed into the inside of his cheek, each bite sharp enough to keep him from snapping back.

He'd decided he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction Not here Not yet.

Then, from further back in the group, Hella's voice rose above the low murmur of footsteps.

She and Millis appeared together, walking close enough that their arms almost brushed. Millis's pace had slowed noticeably, clearly choosing to linger beside her rather than rush to the end with the rest of the students His voice carried easily over the last stretch of the path, a low, conversational tone threaded with just enough volume to be overheard.

When Millis spotted Rhyka up ahead, his steps hitched for half a second just enough of a pause to betray his surprise. But the hesitation didn't last His expression shifted almost instantly into a grin, and he let out a short laugh that rang sharper than the surrounding chatter.

"Well, look who decided to show his face."

Hella's eyes flicked from Millis to Rhyka, a faint glint of curiosity mixed with something more guarded.

Millis didn't waste the opportunity. He leaned slightly toward her, voice pitched so that both she and Rhyka could hear.

"Guess he's still trying to recover from that little… performance the other day."

The edge of amusement in his voice was deliberate part challenge, part attempt at making the insult sound like harmless humor But the glance he gave Rhyka afterward was anything but casual.

Eto, standing only a few steps behind, seemed to catch the tension instantly. Her head turned toward Millis, then back to Rhyka, her brow drawing down slightly She stepped forward quickly, sliding into the space between the two just enough to make her intent clear.

"Alright, that's enough," she said, voice even but firm "This isn't helping anyone Let's just…" She glanced at Rhyka, then at Millis again. "…move on."

Millis gave a half-shrug, the grin still fixed on his face, but his eyes stayed locked on Rhyka for a moment longer before he finally turned back to Hella.

Rhyka didn't say anything Not to Eto, not to Millis, not to anyone But his gaze stayed fixed on Millis for a few seconds longer than necessary, calm on the surface but carrying the same restrained malice from earlier.

Rhyka had steadied himself again.

The faint twitch in his jaw from earlier was gone, his breathing had evened out, and the sharp, unreadable calm was back in place. He let his eyes wander across the students milling about at the end of the run, thoughts drifting toward what to do next how to handle this day, how to test his limits without giving too much away.

But the thought didn't last.

His gaze caught Eto.

Something in his expression shifted instantly. The cool veneer cracked, and a flare of hostility sparked behind his eyes It wasn't the kind of casual dislike you throw at someone in passing it was pointed, deliberate, and edged with something heavier.

The feeling came from deep inside, a flash of potent annoyance that almost surprised even him He wasn't sure if it was only from the guilt he still associated with her role in what happened, or if there was something else an ugly thread of envy at the way she had almost everything he wanted good talent and could still sit comfortably among her friends, her social standing untouched, her reputation intact while his had been dragged through the mud.

He didn't keep it to himself.

"An attention-seeking mutt like you," he said flatly, voice pitched just enough for her to hear over the murmur of the crowd, "should go eat dust in a corner somewhere."

The words hit sharp and clean, no hesitation in the delivery. The "mutt" part was intentional he'd heard enough dog- and wolf-themed insults thrown at him since he returned to make the choice of word feel like a knife turned back on its wielder.

Eto froze mid-step, the words landing heavier than she expected Before she could decide whether to snap back or keep her composure, something in Rhyka's demeanor changed again.

His head tilted slightly, not in curiosity but in alertness His breathing slowed His shoulders shifted.

It was subtle, but to him it was undeniable his senses had just picked something up.

Ever since the strange awakening that came with "the glance," there had been moments during training where his body seemed to move on its own When swinging the stick in the forest, he'd felt an invisible hand guiding each strike telling him where to plant his foot, how to angle his shoulders, what strike should follow next It wasn't magic. It wasn't conscious thought It was something else an instinct so refined it felt almost divine.

Now, that same instinct was thrumming through him again, not in the quiet of training, but here, surrounded by people.

The first thing he noticed was directional.

There was heat radiating faintly from his left side not much, but enough to make the skin there feel just a fraction warmer On his right side, there was nothing no change in temperature, no obvious tell But then came the sound.

It was faint at first, like fabric tearing in another room Then it sharpened into the distinct rush of something cutting through air at speed.

Rhyka didn't think His body reacted before his mind caught up.

One step back.

One step to the side.

Both movements were smooth, almost graceful, like he was stepping into a dance instead of dodging an attack.

A fist-sized piece of stone slammed into the ground where his legs had been, scattering shards across the dirt Almost at the same time, a tight sphere of flame ripped past the space where his chest had been, its heat licking the air before dissipating a few meters away.

Neither had touched him.

When he straightened, his expression hadn't changed from that same composed calmbbut his eyes were sharper now, scanning for the source The crowd around him was still reacting, some gasping, some taking a step back, unsure what they'd just seen.