Martial Demons Ascension

Emmet didn't waste time. His eyes cut to Rin, who was still standing stiffly, fists clenched and mana faintly sparking around her fingertips.

"That's enough," he said, his voice clipped, no room for argument "Launching attacks at another student outside of training drills is unacceptable."

Rin opened her mouth to defend herself, but Emmet raised a hand before she could start "Spare me the excuses You don't discipline your classmates That is my role, not yours. Consider this your warning next time, it won't stop at a warning."

The words hit harder than a raised voice. Rin's mouth snapped shut, her shoulders tightening, but she didn't dare push back. She gave a stiff nod, more out of restraint than agreement.

The class, still half-shaken by what they had witnessed with Rhyka's evasions, didn't dare add anything No mocking laughter, no follow-up insults The silence was heavy, and Emmet's presence pinned them into compliance.

"Back to the classroom Now," he ordered.

They obeyed.

The group filed out in small clusters, conversations hushed, the usual chatter replaced by awkward glances and unfinished whispers.

Rhyka didn't join them.

He hung back, slipping into the tree line, waiting until the tail end of the class disappeared around the corner. His decision was deliberate He wanted to enter last later than anyone else.

It wasn't only about timing It was about testing them He wanted to see if any of them had the audacity to pull the same stunt as before: gathering near his seat, mocking him, claiming the space as if it didn't belong to him That single incident had started the last confrontation, and he was curious if they'd learned anything since.

When he finally re-entered the classroom, the scene confirmed his suspicions.

The atmosphere had shifted Guilt hung in the air, subtle but present Students kept more space between themselves and Rinnte than before Rinnte had always been somewhat distant, but now it was more pronounced the looks, the whispers, the way people made sure not to sit too close.

Rhyka noticed it instantly, and guilt stirred faintly in his own chest Rinnte had taken risks, spoken truths, and this was the price he was paying: quiet isolation.

His gaze shifted towards Millis and Hella.

They sat together, speaking in lowered voices, but there was no mistaking their proximity Rhyka's lip curled almost imperceptibly He found the pairing repulsive not surprising, but still disgusting in its transparency Millis with his smugness, Hella with her opportunism.

Then there was Eto.

She had moved Not far, but far enough to make a statement Her new spot was closer to Rin And, unfortunately for her, that put her directly next to Rhyka's seat.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

Rhyka stepped into the room with a controlled stride, each step deliberate He didn't rush, didn't hesitate, simply walked the length of the classroom until he reached his desk Rin and Eto were mid-conversation when his shadow fell across the table.

The moment hung.

He didn't say a word He simply shot Rin a glance sharp, condescending, dismissive. A reminder Rin stiffened, her lips pressing into a line, but she didn't speak.

Rhyka sat down, calm as ever.

Class resumed, Emmet picking up the lesson as if nothing had happened. The sound of chalk against the board filled the room, papers rustled, and quills scratched.

But beneath it all, the undercurrent of tension remained.

Eto tried to bridge it A folded scrap of paper slid across the edge of her desk, nudged carefully toward Rhyka's hand Her eyes flicked at him, then down at the note, silently urging him to read it.

Rin noticed immediately Her jaw clenched, her hand tightening on her quill until it nearly snapped Her glare burned into Eto, but Eto didn't back down she kept trying, pushing another note closer when the first was ignored.

The quiet war of glances and whispers played out beneath the surface of the lesson, unseen by Emmet but noticed by more than a few of their classmates At first, Rhyka ignored the folded slip of paper Eto had pushed toward him He kept his posture straight, his face impassive, eyes fixed forward on Emmet's chalk scratching across the board For all appearances, he was a model student, paying full attention to the lesson.

But after a few minutes, his hand shifted casually across the desk Two fingers hooked the corner of the note, and with a practiced flick, he dragged it toward himself without looking down He unfolded it under the desk, hidden from view of the teacher.

The handwriting was small but neat, careful.

First note:

"Rhyka… I'm sorry I should've spoken up for you I froze I know that doesn't make it right, but I need you to know it wasn't because I agreed with them I just didn't know what to do Please believe me."

Rhyka read it twice.

His eyes narrowed slightly The words were plain, without excuses Kind, even Too kind. He hadn't expected that He had braced himself for half-hearted platitudes or a weak attempt to smooth things over But there was guilt in the writing genuine guilt.

He folded the paper back neatly, tapped it once against his desk, and then without hesitation, ripped it into four clean pieces. He let the scraps fall into his lap, expression never changing.

Inside, though, he was surprised. More than surprised He hadn't thought she'd feel anything beyond saving her own skin.

Second note:

It came a little later, slid across with the edge of her elbow when she thought Emmet's back was turned.

"I mean it. You didn't deserve what happened You didn't deserve the names or the way we all stayed quiet. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, but I want to try to make it right."

Rhyka's brow twitched as he read this one. His chest felt tight, though he masked it instantly Her words were too direct, too careful She wasn't trying to protect her reputation here at least not in writing She was actually trying to reach him.

But again, his image mattered more.

He slowly crumpled the note into a ball, making sure Rin could see the motion out of the corner of her eye He placed it back on the desk and pressed it flat with his palm, grinding the paper down until it was a useless wad.

This time, he allowed himself the faintest smirk as he leaned back in his chair.

Third note:

Rin's patience was already wearing thin. She had seen the first note destroyed, and her eyes burned holes into Eto's desk as the second one followed the same fate Her jaw clenched, her quill trembled in her hand, and every line of her posture screamed irritation.

When Eto hesitated, Rin almost relaxed. But then Eto, stubbornly, pulled a fresh scrap of paper from her notebook.

This one took longer She scribbled furiously, pausing now and then to chew the end of her quill before writing again Finally, she folded it and pushed it across, her hand stiff but determined.

Rhyka unfolded it carefully, almost curious now.

"Rhyka, I don't care if you hate me for it. I need you to know I never wanted you hurt Not once Not ever. If you think I'm attention-seeking, fine If you think I'm weak, fine. But I still want to make it right, even if you spit in my face for trying Please don't throw this one away. Just… keep it Even if you never answer me."

For the first time, Rhyka didn't move right away.

His eyes scanned the note once, then again, his fingers tightening around the edges of the paper There was a sting in his chest at the blunt honesty of it She was practically begging, throwing aside pride to get through to him

And yet

With a deliberate motion, he tore it straight down the middle Then again, and again, until the note was nothing but useless strips. He let the shreds fall silently to the floor beneath his desk.

Rin's fury reached its peak.

Her chair scraped faintly as she shifted, her glare fixed entirely on Eto now. To Rin, this was betrayal stacked on betrayal Eto had already let Rhyka off once during the incident Now she was humiliating herself, openly trying to reconcile with him, after he'd insulted her in front of everyone.

Eto looked down at her desk, cheeks flushed, hands clenched around her quill She had noticed Rin's anger, but she didn't back down She didn't look away either, her jaw tightening in quiet defiance.

Rhyka leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his actions loud enough for everyone nearby to hear the message:

He didn't need her notes He didn't need her guilt.

Or at least that was the image he kept.