Arthev slid the kunai back into his belt with quiet finality. His expression held steady, unreadable as a still lake.
"That's enough for today," he said simply.
Without sparing Tang San or Xiao Wu another glance, he turned and began walking toward the academy buildings. Each step was measured—neither hurried nor sluggish—like a blade sliding cleanly into its sheath.
Behind him, Tang San remained on the ground, fists digging into the dirt, breath coming in ragged bursts of frustration.
Xiao Wu, however, wasn't watching him.
Her gaze followed Arthev's retreating figure, head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed in silent thought.
That strange pulse from earlier—it still clung to the air. It hadn't faded.
As Arthev walked, his awareness peeled away from the school grounds and sank inward—into the vast, sun-scorched wasteland of his subconscious.
A desert stretched endlessly in all directions, the wind whispering across endless dunes.
There, atop a hill of shimmering golden sand, lounged Shukaku—tail flicking lazily, jagged mouth stretched into a wide, toothy grin.
"Well, well," the beast rumbled, voice like gravel dragged over stone. "Look who's stompin' in all serious. What's got your belt in a twist, Stunned Face?"
Arthev crossed the mental landscape in silence, stopping just before the beast's colossal form.
"Rein it in," he said coolly. "No more aura leakage. Not a flicker."
Shukaku's grin grew wider. "Oh? That why you're stompin' in here like a grumpy professor? Actin' all bossy all of a sudden. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal," Arthev replied, tone level but hard-edged, "is Xiao Wu. When I reached for the shuriken, your soul energy leaked. Just for a moment—but she felt it. That raw, primal pulse. Now she's suspicious."
Shukaku's chuckle was a dry, tumbling sound—like a landslide of pebbles.
"That bunny's got instincts, huh? Didn't think she'd pick up on that. You're afraid she'll start sniffin' around?"
"I know she willl," Arthev said flatly. "And I can't let that happen. Your energy isn't subtle—it screams chaos. If she connects it to me, everything I've built starts to unravel."
Shukaku rolled onto his side with a grunt, amber eyes locking onto Arthev's. The grin slipped slightly.
"Alright, alright. I get it. You're playin' cautious. Ain't wrong. I'll choke it back. But holdin' me in? That takes effort. I ain't exactly subtle, y'know."
"Then start learning," Arthev said sharply. "No more slips. No outbursts. No 'greatness'—not unless I call on it. I've got enough to deal with. Especially with what's still locked away."
"You're a damn buzzkill," Shukaku muttered, slamming his tail against the dune in irritation. A burst of sand shot into the air, dancing wildly in the desert wind.
"But—hold up." His voice changed—low, alert, razor-focused. "Just now. Somethin' brushed past. Real cold. Clean. Killing intent. Aimed at you. Quick. Barely a blink."
Arthev's steps stilled for a heartbeat. His fingers instinctively touched the pendant hidden in his pocket.
"Killing intent?" he repeated, voice now razor-sharp. "I didn't feel anything."
"'Course you didn't, Stunned Face," Shukaku scoffed. "You were too busy strollin' off like some smug drama king. But I felt it. Real faint—like a blade kissin' the back of your neck. And it wasn't from the bunny. Or the plant boy."
Arthev's gaze flicked toward the distant schoolyard. The playground was now a blur behind him, movement a haze in the heat. Tang San and Xiao Wu were barely visible—tiny silhouettes.
"…Tang Hao," he muttered. "He's nearby. Hidden. Watching his son from the shadows. Makes sense—he's a Titled Douluo. Reacted the moment I got too close with the kunai."
"Big title, huh?" Shukaku snorted. "So he's just lurkin' around like some ghost babysitter? Creepy."
"Protective," Arthev corrected. "And smart. Tang Hao didn't sense your energy—he was distracted or too far. But Xiao Wu…" He paused. "She's a soul beast. That's why she felt it. Her instincts picked it up. That's why I need silence from you. Absolute silence."
"Lucky break," Shukaku muttered, stretching out with a groan. "Guess I'll cork the sandstorm. Don't want some overpowered ghost dad sniffin' me out either, eh?"
"Exactly." Arthev's voice was composed again, though the tension remained beneath the surface.
The sunlit dunes of his mind faded, replaced by the quiet stillness of the academy courtyard. Unlike the usual chaos, the flagstones lay empty under the soft morning light, the holiday granting students a rare reprieve from their routines. A faint breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the distant laughter of a few lingering souls somewhere beyond the grounds. A teacher's voice, sharp and commanding, echoed faintly from an open window in the main hall, perhaps preparing for the next day's lessons.Arthev stepped into the cool shade of the academy's main hall and paused beside a stone bench, the silence amplifying his thoughts. The deserted courtyard, bathed in the gentle glow of the early sun, felt almost dreamlike, as if the academy itself were holding its breath for the holiday morning.
Across the courtyard, Tang San stood slowly, brushing grit off his uniform. His fists remained tightly clenched, his frustration visible in every taut line of his posture.
"He didn't use soul power," Tang San muttered to himself. "Just tools and instinct. But still—he overwhelmed me."
His words trailed off, bitterness scraping at the edges of his voice.
Beside him, Xiao Wu was still staring at Arthev's distant form. She raised a carrot absently—and snapped it clean in half.
That moment, she thought. When he moved. Something flared . I know that feeling. I've felt it before.
"That feeling... I've only sensed something like that in the Star Dou Forest."
"It can't be… can it?" She thought in her mind.
But she said nothing.
Tang San glanced sideways.
"Xiao Wu? You okay? You're quiet."
She forced a bright smile and held up the broken carrot. "Just disappointed in you. You didn't even try tying him up with your grass."
She let out a soft laugh, but her eyes remained focused—serious.
"Next time," Tang San said, eyes narrowing as he watched Arthev's figure shrink into the distance. His voice dropped to a whisper. "He's hiding something. I'll figure it out. Teacher's methods won't fail me."
Xiao Wu nodded slightly, though her thoughts had already drifted.
He's not normal, she thought. And I won't ignore it.
Not yet. Not until I know for sure.
Arthev turned a corner and vanished from view, his expression still unreadable—calm as ever.
But beneath the surface, storm clouds gathered.