Azel had a lot of questions, and not a single answer in sight.

Everything about this situation made his head spin.

Skinbutcher in the game had been a man.

A twisted, deranged killer who wore the skin of his victims like armor.

But the skin had been found in the female locker room.

That alone made no sense.

'How the hell…?' Azel thought. 'How would Skinbutcher's remains or his skin end up in a woman's locker? How did anyone even get access to it? Maybe only a professor should be able to get in there without authorization… But Steven can't be the one.'

He turned sharply to Varen. "Who owns this locker?"

The prince didn't even flinch. "I already checked before calling you here. It's registered as unassigned."

That answer only deepened the confusion.

"So you're saying someone broke into an unused locker," Azel said, "just to stash… that?"

Varen straightened, adjusting his gloves.

"Exactly. Which brings us to the question: does that mean Skinbutcher has the royal access codes?" His tone dropped slightly and his eyes turned cold. "Do you think it's my brother?"

Azel's reply was instant. "I doubt it."

But the moment the words left his mouth, he fell silent.

Because in truth he couldn't guarantee anything anymore.

The events of this world were already shifting far away from what he remembered from the game.

For all he knew, even Aegon could have changed.

He sighed and rubbed his temple. "You know what? Let's just stuff it back in there for now."

Varen blinked. "Wait… what? You don't want to investigate further?"

Azel gave him a flat look. "And what exactly do you suggest we do? Hide in lockers until the killer shows up to pick up his suit?"

Varen looked genuinely baffled. "That was an option?"

Azel groaned and crouched beside the locker. "I'll just mark it with a rune so we can track it."

'Though I don't know what the hell I'll even do if I meet him again,' he thought grimly.

Skinbutcher was immune to both mana and aura… his body somehow rejecting both forms of energy entirely.

What could possibly kill something like that? Divine power, maybe.

That was his only guess.

"Rune?" Varen said dismissively. "That's outdated. You should use an enchantment instead."

Azel's glare could have melted stone. "Oh, right, because having a glowing beacon of magic energy will totally keep us hidden. Brilliant plan, your highness."

He raised his hand, mana forming into thin streaks of light around his palm as he began to shape the rune midair.

Once it was complete, the sigil burned with a blue hue.

Azel pressed it against the disgusting patch of skin… it hissed and the rune embedded itself before fading away completely.

"There," he said, standing up. "Tracking rune's active. If it moves, I'll know immediately."

Varen crossed his arms. "We'll know, you mean. It's the two of us now. I did get you the lead."

Azel gave him a tired look. "Alright… fine… Since you're so eager to die, we'll go together."

…

Classes had ended, and the academy was quiet again.

The afternoon sun painted the courtyard golden as most students left for the dorms or the city below.

Inside the staff hall, Azel sat quietly at a long table, sipping from a cup of tea.

'At least the maids are back to normal,' he thought, glancing up as one of them passed by with a polite bow.

Their smiles were genuine again though they still flinched when male students passed too close.

Trauma didn't heal in a day, but at least they were trying.

Still, he had bigger problems.

And that bigger problem was sitting across from him, swirling tea like it was fine wine.

"Has it activated yet?" Varen asked for what felt like the hundredth time, leaning forward slightly.

His royal composure was cracking and Azel could literally see the impatience etched clearly across his face.

Azel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's the fifth time in ten minutes. No, it hasn't—"

He froze mid-sentence as a red glow pulsed across his palm.

The rune.

A single dot was moving across its invisible map… the signal had shifted.

"…Never mind," Azel said, pushing his chair back. "It's moving. Let's go."

Varen jumped to his feet immediately. "Finally."

They left their half-finished tea behind, Azel giving a quick nod of thanks to the maids before they stepped out into the cooling mid-afternoon air.

…

Esme grumbled to herself as she adjusted the strap of her bag.

"I hate that goddamned instructor," she muttered under her breath, trudging down the small dirt path that wound away from the academy.

Her muscles still burned from Sebastian's training, and her legs felt like jelly.

All she wanted was peace.

No yelling. No running. No thinking. Just… quiet.

The guards were still patrolling the main meadow, so she decided to head for the smaller stream that lay deeper in the path.

Hardly anyone went there and it was calm and quiet

"I swear," she sighed, "if I hear one more 'Yeehaw' I'm transferring schools."

As she walked, she mentally went over her bag's contents.

"Flare vials, check. Ice vials, check. Shock capsules, check."

She patted the pockets. "Perfect. I'm armed against creeps."

A few minutes later, she reached the stream.

The water sparkled under the late afternoon light, and the soft sound of it flowing over smooth rocks instantly calmed her.

She sat by the edge, pulling off her gloves and dipping her hands in the water.

"…Finally," she whispered.

But her peace didn't last.

The crunch of leaves behind her made her freeze.

It wasn't heavy enough to be a large beast, but too heavy to be a squirrel.

It sounded… off.

She turned her head slowly and her blood ran cold.

Standing just beyond the trees was a figure wearing what looked like stitched-together human skin.

It was pale and leathery skin stretched over its body like a grotesque suit.

The creature's face was covered by the same patchwork mask, with hollow eye holes and a slit across where the mouth should be.

And inside that slit, she could see… a real mouth.

Her scream tore through the forest before she could stop it.

The creature moved instantly vanishing between steps.

'It's fast!' she thought with panic flooding her.

She yanked a vial from her bag and hurled it with shaking hands.

The glass shattered midair, splashing glowing blue fluid over the creature… the fluid spread across his body however He was already on her.

The knife flashed toward her face.

Time slowed and Esme's mind went blank.

But the strike never landed.

A kick slammed into the monster's side, sending it flying several meters away, crashing into a tree with a bone-cracking thud.

The ground trembled slightly from the impact.

Esme gasped and her eyes darted toward the new figure standing in front of her.

"Azel…" she breathed, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Just seeing him made her happy… and safe.

"I… I put a vial on it… Burn it!"

He nodded once, his eyes fixed on the monster as it slowly rose again.

The stitched skin was wet and perfect to burn…

"Heard that, prince," Azel said without turning. "Time to show off that royal power of yours."

Varen stood high up on a tree branch, his uniform whipping slightly in the breeze.

His expression darkened as he lifted a hand, crimson mana already swirling around his palm.

The Skinbutcher tilted its head then focused entirely on Azel.

It ignored the prince completely with its knives twitching in its hands like living things.

"Burn in hell, you freakish skin freak!" Varen shouted, thrusting his palm forward.

A torrent of fire erupted from his hand… a massive wave of flames that roared through the clearing like a living beast, engulfing everything in its path.

The forest exploded into light.

The flames converged on the Butcher… a sea of burning gold and red.

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