NOVEL NEXT Chapter 52 - Not Yet Champions [Part 2]
Inside, the Conceptorium sprawled like a relic of war and wisdom fused. A massive U-shaped table grounded the space, its dark wood etched with glowing veins that pulsed faintly with power. Beyond it, Cassandra stood near the teaching board. One hand rested on the polished surface of the table, while the other flipped through a heavy, leather-bound tome. Her robes draped around her like violet smoke, shadows coiling at her feet.
Her head rose as they entered.
No smile at first. Only her gaze, sweeping over them like a blade, cutting through the fatigue in their steps.
Then, her mouth curved slightly, a crooked smirk sliding into place.
"Ah, the brave warriors return. Only five minutes late. Remarkable improvement."
The group let out a chorus of breathy chuckles. Shoes scuffed lightly as they shuffled to their seats.
But Cassandra's eyes lingered just a second too long on Elias. Her expression remained unreadable, but something behind her eyes sharpened, as if she were seeing more than just him.
Then she looked away.
Aiden dropped into his seat with a soft grunt, the cushion squeaking beneath him.
"I still think she hexed the chairs."
Thorne didn't even pause as he pulled his seat out with a scrape and dropped into it.
"We'll know when one of us can't stand up."
Alice gave her chair a little spin, then landed in it with a satisfied thud.
"If there's a snack table later, I'm claiming the left side."
Lyric eased into her seat beside them, smoothing the edge of her robe as she sat. Her voice was quiet, but her words were clear.
"Let's just hope the chairs don't bite. I don't trust anything in this room not to be secretly enchanted."
Elias sat last, his posture straighter than the rest, gaze already drifting toward the board, like he was trying to read its contents before he even saw them.
Eddy hovered a moment longer before settling into the last seat with a small exhale. His hands rested awkwardly in his lap as his eyes wandered the room, scanning everything.
The Conceptorium's walls stretched high, lined with towering shelves stuffed with books, glowing scroll tubes, and polished brass instruments that ticked faintly. Crystals hovered in suspended rings, rotating in slow, perfect rhythm. Maps overlapped on pinboards, some curling at the edges, others dotted with strange markings.
Then Eddy looked forward.
And froze.
His gaze caught on the board.
It wasn't blank.
Drawn in bold charcoal was a monstrous silhouette. Tall, jagged, almost skeletal in its deformity. Horns spiraled upward like twisted roots. Its hollow eyes stared outward, and though still, the image pulsed with a kind of breathless energy. Almost as if it might shift when no one watched.
Eddy stared, unblinking.
He didn't know its name.
But somehow, it felt like the creature already knew his.
Eddy's brow pinched together. His fingers curled tighter around the table's edge, knuckles paling slightly. His voice dropped, edged with unease.
"What... is that?"
The group turned in near unison, heads tilting, expressions tightening as their gazes followed his.
Cassandra's eyes lifted slowly from the open tome. She closed it with deliberate care, the leather covers brushing shut with a muted thump. The rustle of her robes swept across the stone floor as she circled the table. She stopped beside the board, her fingers brushing the bottom corner of the chalk sketch with a light, almost casual tap.
"This," she said, her tone even, "is a demon. One of the older kinds."
Eddy's back pressed into the chair. He pulled his elbows in, throat working in a tense swallow. His stare stayed locked on the creature's face, wide-eyed, like he half-expected it to crawl free from the board and lunge at him.
Thorne leaned forward slightly, the usual smirk gone. His eyes had narrowed, and his fingers had stilled on the table.
Aiden's jaw set. He folded his arms and leaned in, brows drawn low as his gaze roamed the twisted figure with silent scrutiny.
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Even Alice had grown quiet, her playful spark dimmed. Her focus stayed fixed on the horns and clawed limbs. Near her feet, Noir and Ash were uncharacteristically still, their alert stances echoing the weight in the room.
Cassandra shifted aside, allowing an unobstructed view of the board.
"They thrive in darkness," she continued, her voice low but steady. "Using illusions to confuse and disorient. Their strength isn't in direct combat... it's in deception. They twist perception, make you doubt your senses, even your own thoughts."
She gestured toward a curled rune carved beside the figure, finger poised with subtle reverence.
"Its name is Gloomshaper. And it comes from Umbrathis."
The word settled in the air like a chill draft, pulling the temperature of the room with it.
Eddy's shoulders hunched inward. He gripped his elbows, his voice faltering.
"We're supposed to fight... that?" His gaze swept the table, searching faces for answers, anchors in the storm of doubt. "What if it gets in your head? What if you can't tell what's real?"
Lyric sat still, her hands folded gently in her lap, her gaze never leaving the board. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, certain.
"That's what it wants. To unravel you from the inside."
Aiden exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw tightening.
"Then we'll have to learn how to see through the lies."
Alice leaned forward, elbows braced on the table. Her eyes narrowed as she examined the twisted runes beside the creature's claws.
"How do we fight something that isn't really there?"
Thorne's fingers drummed once against the tabletop, then stilled. His voice dropped, quieter than usual, grim.
"Maybe the trick is not to fight it with fists."
Cassandra stepped back to the center of the table. Both hands came to rest lightly on the surface, her face composed yet shadowed with gravity.
"And this," she said, "is only one. There are demons like this across all eight worlds. Creatures made of malice, hunger, and shadow."
Her eyes met theirs, one by one. There was no flourish in her tone now, only unflinching truth.
"We don't know which world they'll target next. Or where the last invader even came from. Which means we prepare for all of them."
The Conceptorium grew still. Lights above flickered softly, casting uneasy silhouettes across bookshelves and stone. Behind Cassandra, the Gloomshaper's form loomed like a stain none of them could scrub away.
Eddy slowly leaned back, breath shallow. A faint tremble passed through his hand before he steadied it on the table. For the first time since arriving, the weight of their role pressed down like stone, heavy and unmoving.
No one said it, but something between them shifted.
Eddy's eyes remained on the board, the monstrous charcoal form scorched into memory. His fingers tapped a restless beat, hesitating, then voice barely louder than a whisper:
"Does it have any weaknesses? Anything that can actually hurt it?"
He glanced around the room. The others stayed silent for a beat, expressions drawn and focused.
Then Aiden leaned forward. He laced his fingers, elbows on the table, brows low in thought.
"It's not strong physically, right? It plays with illusions. So maybe disruption magic? Mental barriers?"
Alice exhaled, her head shaking slowly. Her fingers tapped a restless pattern on the armrest.
"Not enough. You'd have to know you're being tricked in the first place."
Thorne sat straighter, no trace of a smile on his face. His voice was firm, measured.
"Light magic," he said. "That's its weakness."
Eddy turned toward him sharply.
"Then shouldn't we focus on that?" His voice had lifted, tinged with hope. "If that's its weak point, why not just lean into it? Train more in light-based spells or weapons, whatever works?"
The energy shifted.
Unintentionally, all heads turned.
To Lyric.
Her eyes widened slightly, startled as attention pooled around her. Her shoulders tensed, spine drawn a little straighter. Then, slowly, her body eased again as she realized what the silence meant. Her hands returned to her lap, folding neatly. Her face held no anger, only a subtle wave of reluctant understanding.
Eddy followed their gaze, confusion flickering across his features.
"Wait... why is everyone looking at—"
"Because Lyric is fae," Cassandra answered calmly, her tone even as she stepped away from the board.
"And light magic is her natural advantage."
Eddy blinked at Lyric, surprise settling in. His mouth opened, searching for something to say. Lyric didn't avert her gaze. She held his for a moment, then dropped her eyes to the table, her thumb brushing a worn groove in the wood.
No halo. No spark. Just silence, and her, sitting in it.
Cassandra didn't linger. Her tone shifted back to instruction, cool and precise.
"But we can't put all our faith into one advantage. This demon may not be the next one we face."
She paced toward the board again, her gaze falling once more on the Gloomshaper's image.
"There are others, many others. Each world harbors demons with different forms, different strengths. Some burn. Some infect. Some consume."
She turned back, tapping the table once with two fingers.
"Which means we don't just awaken Lyric's power. All of you have to be ready. Because together, you're meant to stand as a whole."
Her eyes landed on Thorne.
"Dragonborn. Fire is more than heat, it purges, cleanses corruption. Yours could drive shadow back if you learn to control it."
Thorne looked up, his jaw tight, expression guarded. A flicker of something sparked in his gaze, hope or defiance.
"If it ever shows up."
Cassandra moved on without pause, locking eyes with Alice.
"And you, your arcane precision matters more than brute force. Gloomshapers can't be hit directly, but spells can be tailored to track distortion. With refinement, your magic could disrupt their cloaking."
Alice's fingers, which had been twitching near her belt, stilled. She straightened in her seat, posture poised and alert.
Cassandra inhaled once.
"But right now... none of you have those abilities fully awakened. And that's what needs to change. Quickly."
The chamber fell quiet again. Light played along the floor, washing over each of them in fractured golden lines. The shadows no longer belonged to corners. They clung to memory, to warning.
Eddy looked around slowly, Lyric with her quiet resilience, Thorne's barely veiled frustration, Alice's budding resolve.
They weren't champions.
Not yet.
But there was no blame in their glances. No division in their silence.
Just the beginnings of something stronger.
They were listening to each other now. Leaning in. Trying.
They were learning to face the unknown together.
They were becoming a team.