There had been something soulless in Maya's gaze, as though the girl had lost everything, and in that moment, nothing mattered but vengeance.
What if that girl truly became a threat to the Academy?
Amy thought with a grimace.
She didn't want to imagine the damage Maya could cause if pushed too far.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she straightened up and pushed herself off the wall.
There was nothing more she could do here. It was time to leave.
As she made her way down the dimly lit corridors, Amy's thoughts churned.
There was so much at play, so many questions unanswered.
And above all, the looming shadow of whoever—or whatever—was responsible for the attack.
After some time, she found herself outside the doctor's office.
Pausing for a moment, Amy knocked lightly on the door.
"Come in," a calm, composed voice called from within.
Amy opened the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of herbs and antiseptic filling her senses.
The doctor, a tall man with sharp features and an air of quiet authority, sat behind his desk.
His white coat was immaculately clean, and his hair, streaked with silver at the temples, was neatly combed.
He held the poise of someone accustomed to the formalities of royalty, yet there was an air of warmth to him—a rare trait among the upper echelons of the Academy.
"Did you do as I asked?"
Amy asked, not bothering with pleasantries as she closed the door behind her.
The doctor nodded, his steely gaze softening ever so slightly.
"As you requested, Miss Bluerose," he said in his deep, steady voice.
"I've gone over Noah's medical records and his current condition following the incident."
He reached for a folder on his desk and slid it toward her, though he didn't seem to expect her to read it.
"I must say, it's quite peculiar.
The boy was brought to me bleeding, and yet, after my examination, there were no external injuries to speak of.
Not a single wound remained.
His body, by all accounts, should've been gravely injured, but what I found was… strange."
Amy's brow furrowed as she listened.
The doctor leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him.
"His mana flow had completely stopped for several hours, and yet, there was no sign of internal damage or disruption in the harmony between his magic and physical body.
Normally, when someone's mana flow is disrupted so severely, there's lasting damage—sometimes even permanent scarring within the magical veins."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.
"But in Noah's case, there was no evidence of such damage.
It was as though his body had simply shut down and then rebooted itself.
His magic is… intact, perhaps even stronger than before.
It's almost as if his body harmonized with his magic in a way I've never seen."
She had expected abnormalities—Noah was, after all, a mystery in more ways than one—but what the doctor was describing was something beyond her understanding.
She asked, her voice quieter now, unsure of what answer she even wanted.
The doctor's expression remained impassive.
"There was no tattoo, Miss Bluerose. I checked thoroughly.
No demonic markings, no signs of dark magic, nothing to indicate he's tied to a cult or anything of the sort."
His words hung heavy in the air.
Amy clenched her jaw, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
That couldn't be right.
She had seen it. She was certain of it.
Or had the stress from the combat exams clouded her mind?
Had exhaustion played tricks on her?
The doctor, sensing her internal conflict, spoke again.
"His body doesn't emit any demonic energy either.
In fact, it's remarkably pure for someone who went through such an ordeal.
It's as if whatever happened to him, it didn't leave a trace."
Amy felt a lump forming in her throat, a rare feeling of defeat settling in her chest.
Her instincts had never failed her before—until now.
She had been so sure, but the facts didn't lie.
Noah, by all accounts, was just a regular student, albeit one with an unusual magical constitution.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice betraying her frustration as she stood up and made for the door.
The doctor inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"If you need anything further, Miss Bluerose, don't hesitate to reach out."
She nodded absently and left the office, her thoughts swirling with confusion.
As the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a heavy sigh, her mind spinning.
The image of the tattoo was burned into her memory, but now… Now she was second-guessing herself.
Had it been a hallucination brought on by exhaustion? Stress?
But there were bigger problems at hand.
As student council president, she had responsibilities, and the threat of an unknown assailant still lurked within the Academy walls.
There's a killer out there, she reminded herself.
Whether it was an individual or a group, someone was hunting down students, and she needed to be vigilant.
For now, things were calm, but Amy knew it was only a matter of time before another attack happened.
Until then, she had to keep the peace.
She had to prevent a panic from spreading through the Academy.
The students were already on edge, and any sign of an internal threat could cause an uproar that would be impossible to control.
For now, she thought as she walked away, her resolve hardening.
I'll keep this quiet.
But the truth will come out soon enough.
Ariana stood on the balcony of her luxurious room in Silvercrest Hall, her blonde hair catching in the cold night breeze.
Her gaze was distant, lost in the sprawling view of the academy grounds below.
Beside her, a green sparrow spirit bird hovered, its tiny wings flapping rhythmically in the stillness of the evening.
The bird chirped softly, its voice a delicate whisper only she could hear.
Its message was clear, but Ariana remained silent, her fingers resting lightly on the balcony railing.
She listened patiently, her expression unreadable as the sparrow's words filled the quiet air.
After what felt like an eternity, Ariana's lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What... Noah was attacked?"
The sparrow continued flapping, its message delivered, but Ariana's heart had already skipped a beat.