NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 221: Chapter 268-275
Chapter 268: Eyes of the World
The elevated spire at the heart of Arx Aurelia shimmered with pale runelight, projecting a flawless view of the dueling grounds far below. Here, in a wide half-moon gallery of velvet-lined chairs and silverward glass, sat the elite—the nobles, commanders, and archmagi of the continent.
Elves of crystalline bearing, dwarves in ceremonial plate, beastkin matriarchs draped in tribal silk, and human lords with sigil-bound robes. All had gathered not for war, nor alliance—but to witness a simple trial that had become anything but.
At the center of it all sat Headmaster Caelus.
Composed as ever, Caelus reclined slightly in his seat, silver hair gathered behind his shoulders like a curtain of moonlight. His eyes never left the field below—though they flickered briefly as if reading not the battle, but the hearts behind each strike.
To his right sat a figure who drew just as many glances—Isaac.
Some recognized him from whispers alone: the anomaly, the soulbound man, the one who created a world. He was dressed in simple black with a silver-trim coat, seated as if unaware or unconcerned with the eyes upon him.
The two said nothing for a time.
Below, murmurs spread across the gallery:
"That girl with the harp… was that a spell or divine resonance?"
"Minvera's constructs didn't match academy blueprints. Where did she learn chaos-weaving?"
"Lisette's illusions—anchored by memory? Unheard of."
But one name rose again and again: Irelia.
A noblewoman leaned forward, golden earrings chiming. "Headmaster Caelus," she said politely, "you've been quiet. That last girl—the soulweaver. What do you make of your granddaughter's performance?"
The words fell like a drop of ink into still water.
Caelus didn't flinch. He let the silence stretch—long enough for a few watching nobles to glance at one another.
Then he exhaled slowly. "She is not my granddaughter."
A flicker of surprise passed through the onlookers.
Isaac turned to him, raising a brow slightly—but said nothing.
Caelus added, "She is my niece. A daughter of my late sister. She came to Arx Aurelia with no expectations, no favor, and no guidance from me."
"And yet," the noblewoman pressed delicately, "she weaves the soul. That's not something taught in standard curriculum."
Caelus's gaze narrowed.
"She earned what she now commands. I gave her no assistance. Nor did she ask for it." His voice grew softer, yet heavier. "The golden thread she holds—she forged it through silence, pain, and clarity. Not blood."
A moment passed.
Then, unexpectedly, Isaac spoke.
"Still," he said, his voice calm, "you must feel something, watching her now. Not as Headmaster."
Caelus tilted his head, studying Isaac with his pale, mirrored eyes. "And what would you know of family?"
Isaac met his gaze without flinching. "I know what it's like to choose who you consider family. And I know what it's like to see someone you care for surpass what anyone expected."
A subtle smile—small, almost imperceptible—touched the edge of Caelus's mouth.
He looked back down toward the field, where Irelia stood silently with the other four girls, golden threads still faintly pulsing at her fingertips.
"I am proud of her," he said at last. "But not because she's mine."
He paused.
"I'm proud of her because she no longer needs me."
Across the gallery, whispers gave way to silence.
Even the nobles who had come to gauge threats or court alliances now sat still. The five girls had not just passed—they had redefined what it meant to be students of Arx Aurelia.
And the eyes of the world were watching.
Chapter 269: Five Against Fate
The sky above Arx Aurelia darkened—not with storm, but with intent. Runes flared along the outer arena walls, forming a crystalline dome that pulsed with ancient glyphs of containment and amplification.
Students gathered by the thousands.
This was no ordinary match.
At the center of the arena, the Head Judge raised a staff etched with six glowing circles—each representing a core discipline of magic and martial arts.
"By command of the Council," his voice boomed across the courtyard, "we now commence the final stage of the Seasonal Advancement Trial."
He paused as silence settled over the crowd.
"This will be a team-based challenge. Five against five. Unity, adaptability, and synergy will be tested under real combat pressure. No holding back."
Gasps rippled across the students. Whispers shot like arrows across the ranks.
"Team combat?"
"Wait—do they mean them?"
"The five girls who just dominated their matches?"
The judge turned toward the platform where five figures now stepped forward, one by one.
Tamari led the group, her grin sharp and confident as ever.
Lisette walked calmly, silver ink already gliding along her fingers in idle motion.
Minvera snapped her goggles into place and tossed a humming sphere between her palms.
Kaelenna moved like a breeze, her harp slung over her shoulder, her steps rhythmic and grounded.
And Irelia followed last, quiet, composed, golden threads glimmering faintly at her wrists.
Together, they stepped into the light.
"Team One: Confirmed. Irelia Valen, Tamari Aokha, Minvera Crosswright, Lisette Arvandis, Kaelenna Virell."
The crowd's reaction was immediate—some cheers, some stunned silence, and many in awe.
Even in the noble gallery above, several dignitaries leaned forward.
Isaac folded his arms and smiled faintly. "Let's see if they remember how to fight as one."
On the opposite side of the arena, another team stepped out.
Their names were less familiar—but their reputations weren't.
"Team Two: Advanced Candidates from the Strategic Combat Division."
First came Rowen Vire, a half-giant shieldmaster wielding a massive tower-guard bulwark and known for being unmovable.
Then Sana Drayel, a water-channeling rogue-mage with precision spells and venom-edged daggers.
Third, Korin Halwright, illusionist and brother to the very boy Lisette had defeated—his expression burned with quiet revenge.
Next, Marek Thorne, a gravity-sculptor who could fold terrain with his mind.
And finally Elya Reinhart, a flame-laced duelist rumored to train directly under one of the War Saints.
Tamari cracked her knuckles. "Oh, they're serious this time."
Minvera raised a brow. "This'll be fun."
Kaelenna whispered, "I feel pride in their resonance… but also fear. They've trained together before."
Lisette gave a small, knowing smirk. "Let's rewrite their script."
Irelia stepped forward slowly, breathing in the weight of the moment.
"We don't overpower. We don't rush. We interweave. Let's show them what Emberlight taught us."
The judge raised his hand.
The dome surged with light.
"Begin."
Chapter 270: Threaded Harmony
The arena pulsed with tension.
As soon as the judge's signal dropped, the five elite students from the Strategic Combat Division surged forward—fast, precise, and lethal.
But they weren't the only ones ready.
0:03 – Engagement Begins
Rowen Vire, the half-giant shieldmaster, barreled straight toward the center, his tower shield radiating gravitational anchors. The ground cracked beneath his charge—his goal was simple: draw attention, disrupt formation, split them up.
"Break them now!" shouted Elya Reinhart, flames twisting from her blade as she launched a wave of sweeping fire toward Minvera and Kaelenna.
0:05 – Tamari Responds
Tamari was already moving.
She darted left, letting the flames pass her, and met Rowen head-on. Her fists clashed with his shield—once, twice—and then bounced back with a kinetic echo, feeding her strength.
Each of his pushes only fueled her momentum.
"Thanks," she grinned, stepping in low—pivoting on her heel—and slammed an uppercut into the bottom edge of his shield. The kinetic backlash surged upward and blasted him off-balance.
0:08 – Minvera and Kaelenna's Counterplay
Minvera rolled sideways, flipping open a pressure glyph that deployed three micro-turrets with blink-casting stun spells. "Turret Choir, Sing!"
The turrets synced with Kaelenna's harp, her fingers plucking a melody that turned the stun bursts into harmonic dissonance—disrupting the spell rhythms of Sana and Marek, who'd just begun their incantations.
Kaelenna's voice, barely above a whisper, layered on top of the pulse.
"Scatter… return… and calm."
Marek flinched mid-gravity surge. Sana's water whip misfired and splashed harmlessly.
0:12 – Lisette's Turn
Korin Halwright—Lisette's opponent's brother—launched a barrage of illusion spikes, trying to overwhelm her senses with multiple false targets.
But she'd already dipped her fingers in silver ink.
One smooth motion.
A sigil-swan burst from her scroll, slashing through three illusions. Her next stroke shaped a mirror-fox, which spun and reflected Korin's own phantom blades back at him.
"You copy fear," she murmured, "but I craft reflection."
The sigils anchored to real memory—their emotional resonance stronger than Korin's illusions. His images buckled and collapsed.
0:15 – Irelia Weaves
Irelia moved like breath through still air.
Threads of golden soullight shimmered in her wake, connecting her teammates subtly. One to Tamari's shoulder. Another to Kaelenna's ankle. A third floating near Minvera's drone.
She didn't need to shout orders.
Her threads carried intent. Momentum. Emotion.
Tamari, fueled by Irelia's steady presence, flowed into a rhythm that made her strikes faster, her dodges smoother.
Kaelenna's aether pulses tightened in harmony with the web, perfectly timing her next sonic burst to counter a delayed flame wave from Elya.
Lisette's ink constructs danced closer to her allies, drawn instinctively by Irelia's subtle influence.
0:20 – Combo Attack
Irelia sent a single signal pulse to Lisette through the golden thread.
Lisette's eyes narrowed. She drew a sigil across the air—a gateway.
Tamari, grinning, launched herself into it—teleporting directly behind Rowen.
With Minvera's pressure bombs detonating beneath his feet, Rowen staggered forward.
Tamari came crashing down like a meteor, her entire weight behind a spinning heel strike powered by built-up kinetic resonance. It shattered his shield and slammed him unconscious into the barrier wall.
0:24 – Enemy Breakdown
Kaelenna shifted her melody—this time targeting Sana and Marek with a discordant counter-chord.
The two staggered.
Minvera's drone—enhanced with a sigil from Lisette—exploded into a net of static runes, catching Marek in mid-flight and locking him in place.
"Target stunned!" Minvera shouted.
Irelia lifted her hand—golden threads tightened.
Lisette's constructs leapt.
Kaelenna's melody soared.
Tamari punched through.
0:29 – Endgame
Sana and Korin fell next—one entangled in golden threads, the other overwhelmed by phantoms of memory too real to ignore.
Only Elya remained—flames roaring around her, face wild with disbelief.
She stared at the five girls now moving as one.
"You're not students," she gasped. "You're a machine."
Tamari cracked her neck. "Nope. Just friends."
Then Kaelenna's final note dropped—low and resonant.
Elya's flames flickered.
Irelia whispered, "Sleep."
Golden threads curled around her.
She collapsed without pain.
0:31 – Victory
The judge raised his hand.
"Match over! Victory: Team Irelia!"
Chapter 271: After the Silence
The arena was still.
Not because of tension, but because no one could speak. Even as the final golden threads faded and Elya Reinhart was carried off the field by the medi-healers, the crowd had yet to find its breath.
Victory had been declared.
Unanimous. Absolute.
But what remained was not applause.
It was awe.
High above, in the noble gallery, the weight of silence finally broke.
"Unprecedented…" muttered a steel-robed dwarf general.
"That wasn't raw power—it was military-grade synchronization," whispered a beastkin chieftainess, tail flicking in surprise.
An elven scholar took a sharp breath. "Irelia's threads… did you see? They linked not only their bodies—but intent. That wasn't just teamwork. That was telepathy through empathy."
Across the seats, speculation bloomed like wildfire.
"Who trained them?"
"They were missing for days…"
"Does Isaac command them?"
"No—he forged them, but they command themselves."
At the center, Headmaster Caelus stood slowly. His expression, as always, was unreadable.
Isaac leaned back in his seat, calm as ever.
"They're ready," he murmured.
Caelus didn't respond.
But after a pause, he offered a rare nod.
"Yes. Now the world needs to decide what to do with that."
Faculty Tower – Instructor Assembly
Later that day, in a secluded hall lined with floating tomes and memory crystals, the senior instructors of Arx Aurelia convened.
Holograms of the match replayed around them—paused at key moments: Irelia's soulweaving convergence, Kaelenna's sonic resonance netting, Minvera's wild drones stabilizing through sigil assist.
Combat Professor Elira spoke first, wide-eyed.
"They didn't just outperform the enemy team. They dismantled them with targeted suppression. Tamari neutralized the anchor. Kaelenna disarmed the tempo. Minvera reshaped control. Lisette disrupted the mind. And Irelia held the whole thing together."
An older instructor frowned. "No student team has ever done this in recorded Arx Aurelia history."
Another added, "And they still haven't shown their full limits."
Silence.
Then someone asked, cautiously:
"Should we promote them… or contain them?"
A heavy pause followed.
Student Commons – Reaction Below
Back among the student body, chaos had erupted.
Groups formed and re-formed.
"Did you see what they did?"
"I heard Isaac trained them in a world of his own making."
"They didn't even look tired."
Some students were terrified. Others inspired.
Several already whispered ambitions of joining them. One bold beastkin first-year declared she would challenge Tamari. Her friends immediately talked her out of it.
Meanwhile, rival teams dissolved their training plans, realizing they couldn't match the level of unity they'd just witnessed.
The Five Shadows, as they had once been whispered, were no longer rumors.
They were frontline legends in the making.
Quiet Corner – The Girls
Back in their shared space, the five girls finally had a moment of silence.
Tamari slumped into a cushion. "Well. That felt good."
Lisette gently placed her silver brush back into its case. "We made them listen."
Kaelenna sat cross-legged, harp across her knees, humming quietly. "They'll look at us differently now."
Minvera tinkered with a shattered pressure bomb. "About time."
Irelia, quiet as always, stood by the window, watching the sky fade into evening light.
"They'll test us harder after this," she said calmly. "Every step from now on… we walk in full view."
Tamari snorted. "Let them watch."
Lisette added softly, "We have nothing to hide."
Kaelenna plucked a final string.
And somewhere across the academy—whether in fear, curiosity, or admiration—the name of the five echoed louder than ever before.
Chapter 272: The Doors That Open
The morning after their flawless victory, Arx Aurelia did not wake as it usually did.
It buzzed.
Not with students rushing to lectures or instructors reviewing sparring routines—but with envoys, emissaries, and couriers moving through the halls. Every building, from the Hall of Discipline to the floating Archives, seemed tilted toward one thing:
The Five.
Invitations Begin
By noon, sealed envelopes and rune-tagged messages began arriving in bulk.
Each bore sigils of noble houses, arcane guilds, or elite academic circles.
Kaelenna's harp case received three direct offers from the Harmonic Conservatory, inviting her to join as a prodigy disciple. One note praised her ability to "restore battlefield rhythm through soul-deep serenity" and called her "a gift to the Aetherist tradition not seen in a century."
Tamari received a gauntlet—delivered by a bronze-furred beastkin champion—from the Crimson Vanguard, one of the most brutal and prestigious martial companies on the continent. A scroll was tied to it, reading:
"Your instincts are rare. If you want a real battlefield, not just an arena, you'll find us waiting."
Minvera, meanwhile, had already activated three mechanical pigeons bearing hand-etched schematics. Each was a challenge from rival technomancers, while the Runehammer Institute offered her a sponsored position, full workshop access, and an open invitation to "bend sanity with invention."
Lisette's invitation arrived in ink that changed color with emotion. The Vel Serin Society of Memory Architects sent a formal scroll asking her to demonstrate her anchoring techniques—"the blending of recollection and sigilry is a lost art we wish to see reborn." Another, more veiled note from a noble family hinted at "patronage" and offered funding, territory, and sponsorship—if she would lend her illusions to their private security force.
Irelia's Envelope
Irelia's envelope came last.
Black wax seal. Gold-lined script. No name.
It was from the Inner Ethos Division, a clandestine branch of the academy dedicated to researching rare abilities tied to emotion, soulcraft, and forbidden harmony.
Inside: a single card with two words.
"You're ready."
The Five React
In their shared space, the girls opened their letters one by one.
Tamari laughed. "The Crimson Vanguard, huh? Sounds like a vacation."
Lisette raised a brow. "A vacation that involves siege warfare."
Minvera shook one of her pigeons, which exploded into confetti. "They're cute. If they survive, I'll respond."
Kaelenna hummed quietly as she traced one of her offers. "I never thought anyone would want my voice."
Irelia read hers in silence.
"You're not surprised," Lisette said quietly.
"I'm not," Irelia replied. "But I am… unsettled."
Tamari leaned forward. "Why?"
Irelia folded the card neatly. "Because this is the part where people stop watching us out of curiosity… and start trying to own us."
Faculty Decision Looms
Meanwhile, the senior instructors held a meeting with Headmaster Caelus.
There were three proposals on the table:
Offer the girls individual elite track promotions.Assign them as a unit to Arx Aurelia's external affairs force—missions beyond the campus.Formally designate them as a recognized school within the Academy itself. A new pillar.
Caelus listened to all sides. Said little.
Finally, he looked at Isaac—who had joined the meeting at the Council's request.
"They have awakened something we did not predict," Caelus said. "The question is not whether we reward them. The question is how we protect their freedom… as others begin to lay claim."
Chapter 273: What We Choose
The sun was beginning to set across the Emberlight horizon, casting soft gold across the high spires and flowing trees of Isaac's soulbound world. The five girls sat around a quiet fire in their shared space—no uniforms, no watching eyes, no expectations.
Just them.
And the letters.
Tamari stretched her arms behind her head, one leg resting on the other as she leaned back. "Alright. Everyone got offers. Who's actually tempted?"
Minvera flicked a bronze coin into a floating orb, watching it buzz and spin. "Runehammer gave me a full lab, a stipend, and unrestricted invention clearance. That's a playground with no rules."
Kaelenna offered a faint smile. "The Harmonic Conservatory wants me to perform in aether-synced orchestras that influence royal battlefields. They say my resonance has healing potential… and dangerous disruption."
Lisette placed a hand over her stack of invitations. "Some want me as an artist. Others as a weapon." Her silver eyes flicked toward Irelia. "But none of them understand that what we just did—we did together. That was never about impressing others."
Tamari cracked her knuckles. "The Crimson Vanguard told me they'd give me rank if I beat one of their commanders in combat." She smirked. "I might do it just to knock someone over."
Irelia sat still.
She hadn't opened her envelope again since the day before. She didn't need to.
"They want to separate us," she said quietly.
Minvera looked over. "You think the offers were meant to divide us?"
"They see five threats," Irelia said. "Not one. So they want to… tame us. Pick us off."
Kaelenna's voice remained soft, but certain. "Then we choose each other."
Lisette nodded. "No path matters if we're walking alone."
Tamari grinned. "So we decline the offers?"
Minvera raised an eyebrow. "All of them?"
Irelia answered, "No. We accept—but on our terms. We don't split. If they want our strength, they accept our unity."
Kaelenna plucked a soft note from her harp.
Lisette dipped her finger in ink.
Tamari held up her gauntlet. "Alright then. What do we call ourselves?"
Minvera blinked. "Are we… forming an official squad?"
Kaelenna tilted her head. "A fellowship?"
Lisette smirked. "A faction, maybe?"
Irelia smiled faintly. "Something the academy can't control."
Tamari pointed. "Then we're naming this ourselves."
They all looked to Irelia.
She blinked. "…Me?"
Lisette said softly, "You're our thread. The one who bound us. It should come from you."
Irelia glanced down at her fingers, at the memory of golden soulweaving that still lingered in her bones.
Then she whispered:
"Threadbound."
The word hung in the air.
Warm. Whole. Chosen.
Kaelenna smiled. "Threadbound… then let the world offer what it will."
Tamari stood up and raised a fist. "Together."
The others followed.
Together, they formed a circle. No signature. No oath.
Just a choice.
Chapter 274: Recognition and Resistance
When the official message arrived, it bore not a name—but a seal.
Seven wax symbols, each representing a core authority of the Academy: Combat, Strategy, Arcana, Harmony, Scholarship, Sovereignty, and the Headmaster's own insignia. Few students ever received such a summons.
Threadbound had received one collectively.
The five girls stood before a crescent council table made of living crystal. Behind it sat seven figures, each a master of their respective domain. Only one seat remained empty—the Headmaster's.
Tamari cracked her neck. "Do we bow or something?"
Minvera muttered, "If they ask us to kneel, I'm walking out."
Kaelenna gently shushed them with a calming hum.
Lisette watched in silence, eyes tracing the Council's expressions.
Irelia stood still, unreadable.
The representative from the Pillar of Sovereignty stood first.
"You are no longer whispers," she began. "You are thunder. And thunder demands response."
Another councilor, older and robed in silver, added,
"After your team demonstration and the coordinated responses to over sixty elite-ranked spell patterns, the Council has voted unanimously to—"
"—Recognize you," interrupted a sharp-voiced strategist, "as a faction within Arx Aurelia."
A pause.
"A what?" Tamari asked, blinking.
The Pillar of Strategy clarified:
"An independent unit with authority to act within academy matters. You will not belong to any house, class, or noble protectorate. You are your own designation. Effective immediately, you are recognized as: Threadbound."
The decision came with both gifts and burdens:
Full access to Arx Aurelia's restricted archives and training domainsThe right to take missions on behalf of the Academy—externally and diplomaticallyA permanent shared domain granted within the Skyward Hall, the highest residential zoneRecognition as a standing force under the Academy's flag
But also…
Surveillance by the Council of OversightMandatory participation in the Inter-Academy Trials later this yearInvitation to political engagements among the royal dynasties
Minvera groaned. "So we're both students and a walking parade float."
Kaelenna added softly, "They gave us freedom… and a leash."
As the announcement spread through the campus and noble halls, not all reactions were warm.
Some instructors whispered of favoritism.
Student houses with long traditions scoffed:
"Five girls with borrowed power? This school has lost its spine."
A few elite factions began scheming—wondering how to challenge Threadbound's reputation… or tear it down from within.
One noble heir scowled over a glass of starlight wine.
"Let them enjoy their spotlight. It won't last."
Back in their soulbound sanctuary, the five gathered again.
Lisette placed the official crest they had been given—a small emblem marked with a golden thread—on the table.
Kaelenna hummed a soft victory tune. "They see us now."
Minvera rotated a mechanical badge between her fingers. "And they'll never stop watching."
Tamari leaned back with a satisfied grin. "Good. Let them."
Irelia stood last, her golden threads curling lightly around the emblem.
"We didn't ask for this."
Lisette smirked. "But we'll use it."
Chapter 275: The Ink Beneath the Skin
The celebration was quiet.
Too quiet.
While the Academy buzzed with praise and posturing over Threadbound's recognition, Lisette sat alone beneath the moonlit archways of Emberlight. Her silver ink journal lay open on her lap, pages untouched. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to draw—but the ink recoiled.
Again.
She pressed harder, trying to force it.
The page flared—and hissed.
A mark on her left wrist, normally hidden by her bracers, glowed faintly beneath the skin. Not gold. Not silver. But a sickly violet, shaped like a thorned circle, spiraling inward like a divine noose.
She clenched her fist. 'Not now… not yet…'
But it was too late.
Isaac had seen it.
Not the mark, but the way she moved—stiff, slower than usual. The way she avoided contact. The strain behind her voice during training. It wasn't just exhaustion.
It was fear.
He found her in the ruins of the sky garden, where vines weaved around abandoned stones and glowing lilies swayed in a magic wind.
"Lisette."
She turned, startled—then looked away. "I'm fine."
He didn't push. He just sat beside her in silence.
"I'm used to being alone," she said quietly.
"I know," Isaac answered.
She looked at him then. His voice held no pity. Just understanding. That made it worse.
She lowered her gaze to her wrist… and slowly, hesitantly, pulled back her sleeve.
The mark pulsed faintly. Like something alive and watching.
Isaac's eyes narrowed.
"That's divine," he said softly. "Old, binding, and cruel."
She nodded. Just once.
"My family ruled a kingdom devoted to the gods," she said quietly. "But I… I was born with this. I don't know what I did. Maybe I was cursed before I could speak. Maybe I'm a mistake."
She swallowed hard.
"My uncle wanted me executed. Said I was an affront to divinity. My parents… they begged. Bargained. In the end, he exiled me instead. I've lived my whole life pretending I left by choice."
Tears formed but did not fall.
"It's killing me, Isaac. I can feel it now. Eating through my ink, unraveling my memory threads. That's why I'm starting to falter. I haven't told anyone. Not even the girls."
Isaac didn't speak right away.
Then, softly:
"You should tell them."
She shook her head quickly. "They'll pity me. Or worse—fear me. What if they think I'll drag them down?"
Isaac reached out—gently placing a hand over hers.
"They're your friends, Lisette. And more than that… they're Threadbound. You trusted me once. Trust them now. You're not a burden. You're part of the soul that holds this together."
Lisette stared at him.
And after a long moment…
She nodded.
That night, as the others prepared to sleep, Lisette stood at the edge of their Emberlight retreat.
She whispered into the breeze, "I don't want to lose them."
And somewhere in the distance, the curse pulsed again—faint, hollow, angry.