Martial Demons Ascension

Just outside the classroom door Rhyka leaned casually against the wall mask still tilted on his face arms folded across his chest

From inside every word reached his ears

"…our fault my fault…" Eto's voice thick with guilt

"…he should have stayed…" Loretta's disappointment

"…without magic he's meat…" worried whispers

And then Rinnte's sharp rebuke cutting them all down in one go

Rhyka's lips curled into a broad grin His chest swelled and he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter bubbling in his throat Perfect Absolutely perfect

They were stewing in guilt confusion and regret all because of him He could almost see the way his legend was taking root in their heads The boy too dangerous too mysterious too untouchable to stay in the same classroom

He imagined walking off into the mountains cloak fluttering behind him mask glinting in the sun They'd whisper his name for years

But then a pinch of awkwardness wormed in

"…yeah" he admitted to himself silently smirk twitching Maybe I went a little too far with that speech I basically quit on the spot… but technically I still have class today

The thought of just… walking back in now It almost made him laugh again The dramatic exit undone by awkward shuffling into his seat like nothing happened

He was still mulling over how to play it when the door suddenly creaked open

Rhyka froze

He looked up mask still halfway on his face his posture locked like a deer caught in the glare of torchlight

And standing there framed in the doorway was Emmet

The teacher's eyes narrowed for a moment Then slowly his lips stretched into the cruelest most smug smirk Rhyka had ever seen

"Well" Emmet drawled voice low and amused "If it isn't our fearless wanderer… still lurking at the door of the class he claims to have left"

Rhyka's throat went dry His carefully crafted "mysterious aura" felt like it was seconds away from shattering

The moment stretched as Emmet stood in the doorway smirk carved across his face The class still buzzing from their heated discussion turned as one to see what had caught his attention

And then they saw him

Rhyka

The boy who had just walked out like some wandering hero declaring he was leaving the class forever The boy who had just made them question their treatment of him The boy who was supposed to be gone

Standing right outside the door mask half on posture stiff like he'd been caught sneaking sweets before dinner

For a heartbeat nobody spoke

Then Emmet stepped fully into the room his boots echoing against the stone floor He folded his arms and looked directly at Rhyka voice carrying sharp amusement

"Funny" he said "Didn't you just tell everyone there was 'nothing left for you here' That this 'little classroom' couldn't contain your path"

The students blinked then realization dawned

"…Wait…"

"…he was standing right there the whole time"

"…listening in"

Snickers began rippling through the rows of desks

Rhyka straightened forcing his smirk back onto his face He lifted the mask sliding it into place as though that would somehow restore his aura

"I was… making sure my words sank in" he said coolly leaning against the doorframe "A leader doesn't just walk away and forget He makes sure his presence lingers"

But the smirk felt thinner now Forced

Hella barked out a laugh slapping her desk "Presence You mean you were eavesdropping like a creep because you couldn't let go of the attention"

Laughter erupted spreading quickly as others piled on

"Guess he didn't leave after all"

"So much for mysterious"

"Can't even commit to his own speech"

Eto's voice didn't join theirs

She sat silently her lips pressed tight her eyes locked on him But the look wasn't admiration It was disappointment The faint hope she'd clung to that he had changed that he truly meant what he said flickered out as she saw him fumbling to hold onto his image

She shook her head slightly sinking back into her chair her hands folded in her lap

Rinnte sitting at the back didn't laugh either His gaze lingered on Rhyka with something different pity

He had seen the boy fight had seen the clarity and ferocity that set him apart That was real But this This posturing this desperate mask of arrogance in the face of exposure It was pathetic Not because Rhyka was weak but because he thought he had to cling to that image

Rinnte exhaled slowly through his nose and looked away

Rhyka finally slipped back into the classroom his stride deliberate but the mocking eyes burned holes into his back with every step He made his way to the farthest seat the one tucked into the shadowed corner and sat heavily

Mask still on arms folded smirk fixed on his face like plaster

But the atmosphere was ruined

No one feared him now No one sat in silence uncertain of his next move They snickered they whispered they shook their heads

His aura the carefully cultivated mystery the shadow of danger had cracked

And all he could do was sit there at the very back of the room pretending he hadn't heard every word

Here's your scene with all em dashes and periods removed, formatted the same way as the others:

When the bell for break rang the class scattered into their usual clusters Students dragged desks together shared snacks or headed out to the courtyard in small groups The noise rose quickly laughter gossip and the low hum of lingering excitement from the previous day's sparring

Rhyka however stood

He didn't glance at anyone didn't speak just walked out into the open space of the training yard His blade wasn't with him nor was his mask just his lean frame and that oddly calm expression

At first no one paid him much mind Then one by one eyes began drifting toward him as he… moved

Not trained swings Not sharp strikes Just… movements

Awkward movements

He shifted his arms this way and that his steps uneven his hands drawing shapes through the air that looked almost like a child imitating a dance he'd half remembered

The courtyard rippled with laughter

"Is he serious"

"What's he even doing"

"Trying to make up his own style now"

Someone clapped mockingly in rhythm with his steps Others chuckled under their breath shaking their heads

But then a few students noticed something

The motions weren't random

They slowed They refined His feet which had seemed clumsy at first began to fall into recognizable patterns His arms cut arcs through the air more deliberate smoother with each repetition

Loretta who had been speaking quietly with a group of girls stopped mid sentence Her eyes widened as the realization hit

He was copying her

The dance The same set of movements she used to weave her water into motion

But he wasn't conjuring magic He wasn't summoning a drop of mana His body alone was tracing the sequence Step by step gesture by gesture

And it was getting sharper Cleaner

At first the class was amused Then puzzled Then quiet

Because the more he moved the more obvious it became he wasn't mocking her He wasn't flailing He was dissecting the technique in real time body adjusting with unnerving speed each correction shaving away imperfections until the rhythm of his motions was almost indistinguishable from Loretta's own

By the fifth cycle he wasn't imitating He was executing

The air stirred faintly around his movements his balance flawless his momentum flowing from one step to the next without waste His arms cut sharp fluid arcs his spins carried weight his stances rooted firm but graceful

It looked like a performance

And he had learned it just by watching once

Loretta's face flushed hot A cocktail of emotions surged in her chest shock indignation and grudging admiration That dance was her pride the painstaking product of hours of practice of error and correction For Rhyka to replicate it so quickly with no mana no core just sheer control over his body was humiliating and awe inspiring all at once

Around her the class shifted uncomfortably Their earlier amusement had drained into uneasy silence

"…No way"

"He's actually doing it…"

"In one try"

Rhyka stopped abruptly standing in perfect stance at the sequence's end He didn't look at Loretta He didn't say a word He simply turned walked back toward the shade of the wall and sat down as if nothing unusual had happened

The courtyard buzzed again but quieter now tinged with disbelief The laughter was gone

Rhyka leaned against the wall closing his eyes the faintest smirk tugging at his lips

His aura cracked that morning had begun stitching itself back together thread by thread