NOVEL NEXT Chapter 65 : Dance with the Cast
The night was about to end.
In the center of the village, a massive bonfire roared, sparks flying into the star-filled sky.
This was the climax of the festival, the ritual dance.
People moved around the fire, their faces glowing in the warm light.
They danced with their loved ones, their friends, their children.
No one cared about form or steps. They just moved with the beat messy, wild, joyous.
Azrael stood at the edge of the square.
There were still stares on him, but softer now, full of gratitude.
For once, it did not feel like he was alone.
His whole party was there: Kaelen, Seraphina, Orion, Lyra, Isolde, Selvara, and Elvara.
Not just students anymore.
In the eyes of the villagers, they were heroes.
The air was thick with the smell of smoke and cheap ale.
People laughed, stumbled, shouted.
Children ran between the dancers like sparks themselves.
For Azrael, it felt foreign.
He had not been part of something like this for years.
He could not even remember the last time.
Strangers came forward, asking them to dance.
A blushing girl asked Orion, who laughed and shoved Lyra forward instead.
Lyra shouted at him, but ended up joining anyway, red-faced.
Kaelen hesitated, then offered his hand to Seraphina.
She looked startled, then gave a small nod.
They stepped into the firelight together, awkward but steady.
Sabrina was already dancing with her husband.
Her eyes caught Azrael's, and she waved him over with a bright smile.
He shook his head, giving only a faint, tired grin in return.
She smiled knowingly, as if she already expected that answer.
Then the old woman from the hut appeared beside him.
"A hero shouldn't be standing in the shadows," she rasped. "Go. Dance."
Azrael did not answer.
But before he could move, another voice broke in.
"Senior, may I have this dance?"
He turned. It was Isolde.
Her hand was out, her smile bright and innocent, almost too perfect.
He froze.
She laughed softly.
"Come on. It would be rude to refuse."
She did not wait for his reply.
She took his hand and pulled him forward.
Her grip was small but firm, guiding him into the crowd.
The firelight painted her ice-blue eyes bright.
"You are not a very good dancer, senior," she teased.
"I never had the time to learn," he said flatly.
"A shame," she said, spinning lightly. "A man with your talents should know how to move. It helps… on the battlefield, and in other places too."
Her words carried more meaning than just dancing.
He did not answer, but his gaze slid past her and caught Selvara watching.
Arms crossed, eyes sharp, expression unreadable.
The song ended.
He stepped back quickly, ready to retreat.
But before he could, another hand caught his.
"My turn."
It was Selvara.
Her voice was low, her touch cold.
She did not ask, she pulled him into the firelight.
Her movements were fluid, powerful, almost dangerous.
Dancing with her felt less like a celebration and more like sparring.
"You don't fear standing this close, do you?" she whispered.
Her gaze was sharp, daring him.
Azrael's lips curved faintly.
"Fear? I've walked with worse. Bullies or monsters like you don't scare me."
For the first time, she smiled.
Not her cold smirk, a real smile.
It melted the ice on her face and revealed something wild, alive, almost beautiful.
The song ended too soon.
She let go of him, turning away before he could read more.
He sighed, ready to leave for good.
But then another figure stepped forward.
Elvara.
Her green eyes shone with nervous determination.
She had seen him with Isolde.
She had seen him with Selvara.
Now it was her turn.
"Azrael," she said softly. "Will you dance with me?"
He looked at her, at the fire, then back at her.
His body felt drained, but he could not say no.
He took her hand. It was warm, trembling.
Her steps were quiet, simple.
She was not trying to tease or test him.
But her gaze flickered again and again, as if she was holding back words.
Finally, she whispered, "Are you… interested in Senior Selvara?"
He almost missed a step.
"What a ridiculous question," he muttered, a bit too fast.
"But I've seen you with her," Elvara pressed, her green eyes serious.
"You're different with her. There's no cold mask. No calculation. But it's not love either… it's like you see her in another way."
He turned his eyes to the fire.
'Was it that obvious?' he thought, remembering Selvara's fate in the story.
'And why shouldn't I be? I don't want her to die a meaningless death.'
"She's complicated," he said at last.
His voice was careful, noncommittal.
"Complicated people require a different approach. It's just logic."
"Is that all it is?" Elvara asked. "Just logic?"
He looked down at her.
Her face showed pure, genuine confusion and a small hope she could not hide.
He could not give her the cruel answer he had given Seraphina.
"You're wasting your breath," he said flatly.
"Selvara is Selvara, and you are you. Stop trying to measure me with questions that don't matter."
Her eyes widened.
A slow blush spread across her cheeks, soft and bright in the firelight.
The music carried on.
The laughter continued.
But Azrael felt drained.
He slipped back to the edge of the square, away from the fire.
His thoughts grew heavy.
'Tomorrow, we leave for the academy,' he thought.
'This strange peace will end. Back to lessons. Back to blades. Back to survival.'
He clenched his fists. Clench.
The weight of the future pressed hard.
Then, the blue glow appeared before his eyes.
The system.
[Fate Changed ...]
[New Path Created ...]
[!! MAIN QUEST ISSUED !!]
[Single Choice]
[Objective: Survive the brutal training.]
[Reward: 100,000 P.]
Azrael stared at it, throat dry.
'Survive the brutal training?'
His lips moved, barely a whisper.
"What in the hell?"
The flames roared.
The night spun with music and laughter.
But in Azrael's chest, only silence remained.