CHAPTER 24: DESERT HEAT
- 5 days ago
- 2 min read
Minutes earlier.
A student tried to resist.
He rushed one of the intruders with reckless courage.
He didn’t reach him.
Aura's pressure dropped like a crushing weight. The boy collapsed to his knees before he could swing. One operative struck him across the face and forced him flat in front of everyone.
No hesitation. No warning.
The message was clear.
You are nothing.
Across the hall, Faris Al-Zahir met Kim Mirae’s eyes.
No words passed.
Only understanding.
They waited.
Present.
The intruder’s blade hovered inches from Hari’s eye.
Cold steel. Steady hand.
Hari didn’t move.
His pulse thundered, but he refused to close his eyes.
Then the air changed.
A wave of heat rolled outward.
Orange light shimmered into existence around Faris.
Not explosive.
Not wild.
Dense.
Heavy.
The axe moved.
One brutal arc.
The intruder’s hand separated cleanly from his arm.
It hit the stone before the scream came.
Blood sprayed across the courtyard.
Hari staggered back, stunned.
An orange aura flickered around Faris like desert heat rising from the sand. The edge of his axe glowed faintly beneath it.
He extended his hand to Hari.
“You good, hero?”
Hari stared at him.
He had stepped forward to protect.
And now he was the one being protected.
The wounded intruder collapsed, clutching the bleeding stump.
Another operative stepped forward, rage twisting his face.
“You little brat! Do you know who we are? We will murder your family!”
Silence.
Faris looked at him.
Then he laughed.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just amused.
A thin line of moisture formed at the corner of his eye from how absurd the threat sounded.
“I wish you luck,” he said calmly.
The orange aura flared.
And he moved.
The first attacker barely raised his weapon before Faris crushed through his guard. The axe slammed into ribs. Bone cracked. The man was thrown aside.
Second—Faris stepped inside the swing and drove the blunt end of the axe into his throat.
Third—he overpowered the blade, forcing it down and carving across shoulder and collar in a savage, decisive strike.
Brutal.
Relentless.
Controlled violence.
From the edge of the courtyard, Kim Mirae stepped forward.
Her expression did not change.
An intruder lunged at her.
She shifted half an inch.
The naginata traced a thin, precise arc through the air.
The man’s weapon split.
A red line appeared across his chest.
He fell before he understood what had happened.
No wasted movement.
No emotion.
She was already facing the next threat.
Even several teachers paused mid-strike.
They had not known.
These were not ordinary students.
The battlefield tilted.
And the chaos did not slow.
More intruders pushed forward.
Steel clashed.
Aura pressure intensified.
The fight was only beginning.
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