Jorah stood there with orange Aura still crackling around him, but his face showed understanding mixing with wariness.
’Is this–’
Damian ignored him completely.
His crimson eyes found Victoria on stage as his voice ca out flat and empty.
"You... White girl... Heal him."
Victoria snapped out of her frozen state imdiately, jumping down from the stage. Her healing Aura was already glowing green before her feet hit the floor as she rushed toward them.
Murmurs exploded through the hall.
"Damian Valcor."
"He’s actually here."
"Look at his eyes."
"He looks exhausted."
Damian lowered Alessio to the ground with gentle precision, letting Victoria begin her work.
Then he turned to Luna, hands sliding into his pockets, posture relaxed despite every muscle being visibly tense beneath his uniform.
"What happened here?"
Before anyone else could speak, Jorah opened his mouth.
"This little–"
He stopped speaking because Damian was suddenly in front of him with one hand wrapped around his throat.
There was no blur of movent and no visible skill. He was just there, fingers digging into flesh, lifting the B rank fourth-year off his feet like he weighed nothing at all.
Jorah’s words cut off, replaced by choking sounds, his hands instinctively going to the grip cutting off his airway.
Damian’s voice ca out quiet and almost conversational.
"Did I ask you?"
Jorah tried to activate his Aura, tried to use defensive skills and tried to break free with B rank strength.
But his senses scread at him.
’What the fuck– my instincts– if I move... danger... death–’
Every combat instinct he’d honed over a year of life-or-death missions told him the sa thing with absolute certainty.
Moving would be the last mistake he ever made.
Damian looked at Luna, still holding Jorah suspended in the air like a piece of furniture.
Luna spoke, her voice steady despite having nearly passed out monts ago.
She explained quickly and efficiently, hitting every relevant detail.
Jorah showing up, insulting Damian, pressuring her, Alessio shooting and getting beaten.
The whole sequence was laid out in under thirty seconds.
Damian’s grip on Jorah’s throat didn’t loosen even a fraction as slaughter Intent began bleeding into the air around him, dark flas that had nothing to do with Aura and everything to do with accumulated killing across two lifetis.
Students in the front rows scrambled backward, chairs scraping against floor, bodies responding to threat before minds could process what was happening.
Thud Thud Thud
Weaker first-years started falling out of their seats, trembling, gasping for air that suddenly felt too thick to breathe properly.
"Did you..." Damian’s voice dropped lower, becoming sothing that shouldn’t erge from a human throat. "Just tell Luna to stay obedient?"
Silence.
"And pressure her with your rank?"
More silence.
"And beat my Mafia mber?"
Jorah couldn’t answer with the hand crushing his windpipe, but his eyes showed understanding now. Recognition that he’d made a mistake.
A fatal one.
’H-His mind is not unstable...Did he recover so quickly?! It takes years to fix the mind issues!’
Damian’s expression went colder, his free hand moving with casual precision.
Crack!
Jorah’s arm bent backward at the elbow, breaking with a sound that made half the hall flinch.
"Argh!" Jorah’s scream ca out choked and agonal.
Damian spoke over the screaming, his voice carrying across the silent hall.
"You talked about consequences earlier, about real battlefields and about how nothing in this Academy scares you."
He kicked Jorah without using any enhancent or skill, just a kick that sent the B rank student flying across the hall like a thrown stone.
Jorah’s body tumbled through air before crashing into seats fifty feet away.
Damian walked after him with asured steps, hands still in his pockets.
"You said girls should stay quiet and obedient." His voice carried despite not being loud, each word deliberate. "Let teach you what happens to n who threaten fifteen-year-old girls."
He stopped in front of Jorah, crimson eyes cold.
"You can survive a thousand missions, kill a thousand Monsters and earn your rank through blood and violence."
Jorah struggled to his feet, broken arm dangling, blood streaming from his mouth and nose. He activated defensive skills, orange barriers springing up around him, his working hand glowing with offensive techniques.
"You fucking–!"
Damian appeared in front of him and the barriers shattered like glass eting a hamr.
His hand gripped Jorah’s shoulder, fingers digging in with strength that shouldn’t exist in a human body.
"But strength without having a fucking brain... is useless."
He tore...
Literally tore the arm from its socket, muscle and ligant shredding, bone separating with sounds that would live in nightmares.
"AHHHH!" Jorah’s scream hit a pitch that didn’t sound human.
Damian dropped the severed arm and gripped Jorah’s remaining limb.
"You spent a year getting stronger." His voice stayed level, conversational. "Good... Strength matters."
Rip!
The second arm ca free.
"But you didn’t learn wisdom. Didn’t learn when to shut your fucking mouth."
The first leg.
Rip!
"Didn’t learn to research your targets before running your mouth about them."
The second leg.
Rip!
"Didn’t learn that so people have already faced consequences you can’t imagine."
Jorah’s limbless torso hit the ground, blood pooling beneath him rapidly, his face white with shock and agony.
He passed out before Damian even stepped back.
Damian stood over the dismbered body, breathing steady, his uniform splattered with blood that wasn’t his.
He turned to face the crowd of students.
Nobody moved and nobody spoke.
More than a thousand pairs of eyes stared with expressions ranging from horror to understanding to fear so profound it looked like worship.
Damian’s crimson eyes scanned the faces slowly, making sure everyone saw what happened when you crossed certain lines.
His voice carried across the silent hall without needing enhancent.
"Touch my people." He paused, letting the words sink in. "And there won’t be enough of you left to recognize."
"..."
The silence pressed down like physical weight.
Students who’d survived portals, who’d killed Monsters, who’d earned their ranks through blood, they understood imdiately. This wasn’t posturing and this wasn’t a threat.
This was a promise.
And Damian Valcor kept his promises.
Liam stood frozen, his mind struggling to reconcile what he’d witnessed.
’B rank... And he didn’t even struggle. Just... torn apart like paper... He’s even more stronger now.’
In the second-year section, Nobles exchanged glances.
Leonard Ashford spoke first, his voice strangled. "Fuck."
It felt like déjà vu, every ti Damian appeared, he beca more terrifying than before.
Micheal Thorne’s face had gone pale. "We knew he was strong... We knew."
Iris Langsten stared at Damian, blue eyes wide.
Before the portal, she’d evaluated him tactically... strengths, weaknesses and strategic value.
Now sothing else entirely showed in her gaze. Sothing she imdiately tried to suppress, looking away with more force than necessary.
’Calm down... He’s a barbarian... Violent! Covered in blood! Not attractive at all!’
The thought felt like a lie even as it ford.
Damian turned and walked back toward the stage.
Luna followed without being asked, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket.
She reached up, the height difference requiring her to stretch, and began wiping blood from Damian’s face with careful precision.
The gesture was intimate and familiar. Showing comfort with each other that went beyond normal siblings.
Every eye in the hall tracked the movent.
Luna finished and stepped back, folding the stained handkerchief.
The Academy had indeed changed.
The rules were different now.
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