"How does a planned humiliation turn into a total catastrophe? We gave Lysander the [Heart of the Red Drake]. We gave him the advantage. And he lost to a freshman?"

"The variable was... unexpected," Voice Three replied, his voice quavering slightly. He sounded elderly, the rasp of a long-time academic. "Lysander's firepower was sufficient. The data confirmed it. His [Dragon's Breath] reached temperatures of three thousand degrees."

"And the boy walked through it," Voice Four cut in. Her voice was smooth, sharp, and unmistakably female. "He didn't shield. He didn't dodge. He simply ignored the laws of thermal dynamics."

"Ignore?" Voice One roared, the shadows around him flaring violet. "He dismantled a Vice-Head in front of the entire student body! Do you know what this does to our influence? The Arcanist Faction is headless. Our grip on the Council is slipping!"

A holographic projection materialized above the table. It was a replay of the duel, frozen at the moment Alvian stood amidst the flames, his expression one of utter boredom.

"Look at his eyes," Voice One whispered, the anger replaced by a chilling curiosity. "That is not the face of a student fighting for his life. That is the face of a predator playing with its food."

"Rogge is ash," Voice One snapped. "And Alvian will join him soon enough. But we cannot act recklessly. The Headmaster is watching. The Silent Watchers are prowling."

"What about Lysander?" Voice Five asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was deep, brutal, like grinding stones. "He is in the infirmary. He is broken, but he is alive. He knows his handler. He knows about the funding."

Voice One leaned back, the shadows obscuring his face completely.

"Lysander is a loose end. A failed investment. He lost the duel. He lost the staff. He has served his purpose."

"BEEP."

Voice One tapped a rune on the table.

[Order Issued: Silencing Protocol.]

[Target: Lysander.]

[Method: Toxin - Heart Failure.]

"Clean it up," Voice One commanded. "Make it look like succumbing to injuries. The boy, Alvian, beat him brutally. It will be believable. It will paint our little Anomaly as a murderer."

"Understood," Voice Four said. "But that does not solve the problem of Alvian's growth. If he accesses the Vault... if he uses the Genesis Forge..."

"He won't," Voice One interrupted. "Because he made a mistake."

The hologram changed. It now displayed a map of the world, zooming in on a desolate, orange-colored region to the south.

[Zone: The Ashen Sands]

[Status: Lawless Zone / Syndicate Territory]

"Our sensors at the teleportation plaza picked up a signature," Voice One said, a cruel smile evident in his tone. "Alvian left the Academy grounds thirty minutes ago. Destination: Dust-Hollow."

"The Ashen Sands?" Voice Three gasped. "Why? That's a Level 35 zone. He's barely Level 28."

"He's arrogant," Voice Five grunted. "He thinks because he beat a mage in a duel, he can handle the wild. He's hunting for materials. Probably thinks he can loot the Sunken Ruins."

"The Sunken Ruins..." Voice One murmured. "Where we are excavating the Tablet."

The tension in the room spiked. The Sunken Ruins were critical. The Syndicate was running a black operation there, digging for the [Tablet of the Earth Core]...a key component for Subject Zero's evolution.

"If he finds the excavation site..." Voice Four warned.

"He won't leave the desert alive," Voice One declared. "He walked right into our backyard. There are no rules in the Ashen Sands. No teachers. No barriers. Just sand and blood."

"Ding!"

A notification appeared on the table surface.

[Deployment Authorization Requested.]

"Send him," Voice One commanded. "Send the Weeping Blade."

"The Enforcer?" Voice Three hesitated. "He is Level 40. An assassin class. Is that not overkill for a freshman?"

"Overkill is the point!" Voice One slammed his fist again. "I want Alvian dead. I want his head on a pike. I want the [Key to the Genesis Forge] returned to us. The Weeping Blade does not fail. He will slit the boy's throat before Alvian even realizes he is being hunted."

"And the excavation?" Voice Five asked.

"Accelerate it. Secure the Tablet. Load it onto the transport. If Alvian gets anywhere near that site, burn the entire ruin to the ground."

The hologram zoomed in on Alvian's profile one last time.

"You think you are the protagonist of this story, boy?" Voice One whispered to the image. "You think you can break the system? In the Ashen Sands, the only system is survival. And your trial has expired."

"Initiate Phase Two of the Subject Zero project," Voice One added, standing up. "While the Anomaly is dying in the sand, we will finish the weapon. By the time the Tournament begins, we will have a god ready to take the stage."

"Dismissed."

The figures around the table faded away one by one, teleporting back to their hidden posts within the Academy, the Government, and the Factions.

Voice One remained alone in the dark, watching the red dot that represented Alvian moving across the map.

"Run fast, little mouse," he murmured. "The hawk is already in the sky."

-----

Somewhere in the Shadow Realm

The Weeping Blade sharpened his dagger.

He was not a man of words. He was a tool. A weapon forged by the Syndicate to remove problems.

He sat in a black tent pitched amidst the shifting dunes of the Ashen Sands. Outside, the wind howled, carrying the abrasive sting of sand.

[Contract Update: New Target.]

[Name: Alvian.]

[Reward: 10 Million Credits + S-Rank Skill Book.]

[Priority: Absolute.]

The assassin looked at the holographic image of the target. A young man with black hair and cold eyes.

"A student," The Weeping Blade rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves skittering on pavement. "They pay ten million for a student?"

He stood up, his leather armor creaking softly. He sheathed his dagger—a curved blade that dripped with a paralyzing neurotoxin.

He stepped out of the tent. The heat of the desert hit him, but he didn't sweat. His body had been modified to endure extremes.

He looked toward the horizon, toward the border town of Dust-Hollow.

"Unlucky," he whispered to the wind. "You should have stayed in school."

He activated his stealth skill.

"POOF."

He vanished into the shimmering heat haze, a ghost moving to intercept the living.

The hunt had begun.

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