Chapter 110: Baptism (8): THE VETERANS’ HOUND

The following days settled into a routine.

In the mornings, Haru wore the orange Continuous uniform.

Broom in hand.

The silence of someone who hadn’t slept enough.

At night, it was the skull mask.

Dark hallways.

The Chinese man leading the hunt.

Haru never intervened directly.

He simply followed.

Observed.

But sometimes, when the Chinese man wasn’t looking, he helped in secret.

The freshman about to turn down the wrong corridor would hear a noise from the right direction.

A chain stuck at an impossible angle would suddenly become just a little easier to free.

Nothing that could be traced.

Nothing he would ever admit.

It didn’t take long for the veterans to start calling him names.

"Chinese Toy."

"Made in China."

He let them.

Not because he liked it.

Names were irrelevant while he was still learning.

And he was learning.

Haru began predicting routes.

Hiding spots.

Which freshman would abandon their partner first.

Which one would run in circles before stopping.

Which one would try to negotiate when they should be running.

He did it more to prove something to himself than to the Chinese man.

But the Chinese man noticed.

He always noticed.

The boy watches the way I do, the Chinese man thought sometimes while watching Haru study groups of freshmen from afar.

But unlike me, who observes and waits...

He wants to use what he sees.

That could be good.

It could also be dangerous.

One night, Haru stood still in a corridor after a chase.

The freshman who had fallen, eighteen years old, bleeding knee, hands raised, begged with the same voice Haru had used on his first night.

"Please... don’t hurt me... please..."

Haru stood there wearing the mask.

Feeling nothing.

The Chinese man appeared beside him.

"If you hesitate... he’ll notice."

Haru didn’t answer.

"The mask doesn’t hide your face," the Chinese man said as he walked.

"It hides your guilt."

That night, Haru hit someone for the first time.

Not out of anger.

Not out of pleasure.

With precision.

The kind that comes from knowing exactly how much force is necessary and refusing to use more than that.

After that, the freshmen started calling that masked figure something else.

The Veterans’ Hound.

...

The days passed.

The freshmen became fewer.

The ones who remained were faster.

Smarter.

More desperate.

Sometimes all three at once.

The Baptism was changing.

At a checkpoint in the south wing, a group of chained freshmen stood in a circle.

Heads lowered.

Exhausted silence.

Then one of them shouted at the nearest veteran.

"Come on, man! Help him! He’s not feeling well! You know healing magic, just heal him!"

The veteran looked toward the boy lying on the floor.

Body curled.

Hand over his stomach.

Murmurs spread through the group.

Several freshmen nodded.

Some genuinely looked worried.

The veteran sighed.

"Move back."

He approached, crouched beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me see where you’re hurt."

The freshman rolled over and spat.

Blood.

A lot of blood.

Straight into the veteran’s face.

Some droplets entered his mouth before he could close it.

The others immediately followed.

Spitting into the air.

Onto the floor.

Onto their hands.

Anywhere they could reach.

The veteran wiped his face and stepped back.

One step.

Then another.

He raised an arm to cast magic.

Nothing happened.

"...what the hell?"

He looked at his hand.

Then at the blood covering him.

"Nelumbra-saturated blood."

The freshmen attacked.

Still chained together.

Making everything slower.

Messier.

More chaotic.

The veteran fought well.

Stronger than any one of them individually.

But together?

Together and desperate?

That was something else.

...

"Dude."

Haru walked beside the Chinese man, dragging a chained freshman by the arm.

"Do you eat dogs?"

The Chinese man didn’t answer.

"I mean, do you or don’t you? Just be honest."

"Please, let me go..." the freshman muttered.

"Shut up. Can’t you see I’m talking?" Haru replied.

"Man, I already told you where the others are hiding," the freshman tried again.

"Why take me too? You’ve already hunted me down. According to the rules, I’m baptized already, right?"

"Yeah, but how are we supposed to know your friends are actually there and you’re not lying?"

Haru didn’t even look at him.

"If we don’t find them, we’ll beat you up. So think carefully before you talk."

..

"And you’ll only be baptized when a veteran says you are."

The freshman lowered his head.

That was when all three stopped.

At the corridor intersection stood a group of chained freshmen.

But unlike the others, they were standing tall.

Waiting.

In the center stood a veteran.

A chain wrapped around his neck.

"Let him go," said the group’s leader.

Eyes locked on Haru.

"And we won’t kill this one."

He pointed at the freshman Haru was holding.

Haru opened his mouth.

"Shut up or you’re dead."

The leader cut him off without even looking.

Just a warning.

Haru released him.

The freshman ran back to the group.

Far too happy to hide it.

Haru studied them.

Coordinated.

Planned before acting.

"Turn yourselves in too."

The leader tossed a canteen onto the floor.

It landed at Haru’s feet.

"Drink."

"What the hell is this?" Haru asked.

"Aren’t you going to handle this?" the Chinese man asked casually.

The same tone someone would use asking if he wanted sugar in his coffee.

So many freshmen.

One veteran hostage.

Mana blocked if I drink.

But if I don’t...

They know I still have mana and they’ll retreat because they don’t know how much.

If I drink...

They attack immediately.

They’re already grouped together.

Haru picked up the canteen and drank.

Then handed it to the Chinese man.

The Chinese man simply took it.

Haru walked forward with his hands raised.

"What was in that?" he asked the nearest freshman.

"Nelumbra-saturated blood. Now your—"

Haru headbutted him.

Hard.

Clean.

Before anyone could react, he stomped on the ankle of the freshman holding the veteran.

The veteran escaped.

The freshmen charged.

Haru drew Vorath.

They stopped.

Silence.

Only breathing.

And distant sounds of other chases happening on other floors.

Their eyes shifted between the sword and Haru.

Then back to the sword.

"How!?" one of them shouted.

"We blocked your mana!"

"You did?" Haru asked sarcastically.

"You don’t stand a chance."

The leader recovered quickly.

Still standing.

Still firm.

"There are more of us. We’re chained, but we’re still the majority."

"Yeah."

Haru nodded.

Still sarcastic.

He drove Vorath into the floor.

The impact echoed through the entire corridor.

A vibration traveled through everyone’s feet.

"I’m going to close my eyes and count to three."

Haru’s voice was calm.

"When I open them, the first person I see gets beaten."

A smile appeared beneath the mask.

"I’m being generous."

"He’s bluffing," someone said.

Haru turned toward him.

His right eye darkened.

The iris almost disappearing into a bottomless black.

Training with the Chinese man these past days gave me time.

Not enough to master the power.

But enough to release the eye without effort.

The form alone is enough for now.

I named it...

[Vandris Eye]

...

"One."

Haru closed his eyes.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, he heard everything.

Breathing accelerating.

Uncertain footsteps.

One person advancing.

Two stepping back.

Chains scraping against the floor.

Someone swallowing nervously.

"Dude..." a low voice whispered.

"This guy isn’t bluffing. He’s way too relaxed."

Another voice replied.

"And the Chinese guy hasn’t even touched the blood yet..."

"Without mana, wielding a sword like that is insane."

"He still has mana."

"Two."

Footsteps.

One pair.

Then two.

Then the sound multiplied into a stampede.

"Three."

Haru opened one eye.

Then the other.

The corridor was nearly empty.

The freshmen were running for their lives.

Haru sighed.

The Chinese man laughed.

Actually laughed.

Loud.

Genuine.

His shoulders shaking.

"Finally."

He looked down the empty corridor.

Then at Haru.

Then down the corridor again.

"Now they look like Astraeus students."

He tossed Haru a potion.

Haru caught it without looking.

Drank.

His mana returned immediately.

"Go get them."

The Chinese man grinned.

[Time Stop]

...

In the women’s wing, most people had already gone to sleep.

The courtyard was quiet.

Lanterns dim.

Forgotten cups left on tables.

The kind of silence that comes after hours of conversation, when exhaustion finally wins.

Lilithine was about to leave when she heard:

"Saint."

She stopped.

Recognized the voice before turning around.

The effortless confidence.

The way it never needed to announce itself.

The way it occupied space simply by existing.

She turned.

Isabela approached at an unhurried pace.

Elegant as always.

Red hair still perfect despite the hour.

Direct gaze.

Annoyingly beautiful as ever.

"Isabela."

"So you’re Lilithine."

"I am."

"I see."

...

Isabela kept looking at her.

Not from above.

Not judgmentally.

Just observing.

Lilithine began to feel uncomfortable.

"Do you need something?"

"No."

Isabela shrugged.

"Curiosity."

"That doesn’t answer anything."

"I know."

That earned the faintest smile.

"Haru talks about you."

Lilithine blinked.

"What?"

"Not much."

Isabela tilted her head.

"But he does."

Lilithine looked away.

At the ground.

At the trees.

Anywhere except those eyes.

"I don’t know why that’s supposed to matter."

"Neither do I."

Isabela answered.

Both of them knew better.

A breeze passed between them.

A leaf drifted slowly to the ground.

Then Isabela struck where it hurt.

Not out of cruelty.

Because she had spent long enough behind that pillar to understand what she’d seen.

"You’re angry with him."

Lilithine clenched her hands over her skirt.

"I’m not."

"You are."

"I’m not."

"You are."

...

"You really are."

Lilithine hated how right she was.

"He seems more worried about it than he admits."

This time Isabela’s voice was softer.

Without the earlier weight.

Lilithine remained silent.

For the first time since the conversation started, she looked directly at Isabela.

"How long has he been your bodyguard?"

"Not long."

"You seem close."

"We are."

"Do you trust him?"

Isabela didn’t hesitate.

"Yes."

That hurt more than it should have.

Because Lilithine was still trying to figure out whether she could.

And here was someone who had already answered the question.

Simple.

Direct.

Without all the layers Lilithine carried.

She stared at Isabela for a long moment.

"Do you like him?"

Isabela looked mildly surprised.

Not by the question itself.

But by how directly it had been asked.

Nuns didn’t ask things like that.

Saints didn’t ask things like that.

She genuinely considered it.

Then smiled.

Honest.

"I don’t know."

Then immediately returned the question.

"And you?"

...

Lilithine looked at the ground.

At the darkness between the trees where the lantern light couldn’t reach.

Anywhere except the gaze waiting for an answer.

"I don’t know either."

"IGNITION!"

The shout echoed from a nearby corridor on the other side of the wall.

Far too close.

A voice both girls recognized instantly.

For completely different reasons.

From where they stood, they could see stone turning to dust.

Smoke rising.

Fragments of marble scattering through the air.