FROST
Chapter 68: Echoes of the Forbidden Wing

Chapter 68: Echoes of the Forbidden Wing

Adeline and Mila’s footsteps echoed sharply through the marble hallway, so quick, they drew curious glances from the scattered apprentices loitering near the arched windows and wide pillars.

The two girls moved like a gust of wind, weaving past groups deep in discussion over their elemental progress and tactical breakthroughs.

Bits of conversation floated in the air—talks of enhanced spells, successful barrier manipulation, and even someone claiming they’d made a flower bloom using raw mana alone.

Beyond the hallway, the open expanse of the training arena sprawled out like a coliseum carved into the heart of the academy grounds.

The stone flooring was etched with ancient glyphs that shimmered faintly depending on the type of magic being used above them—wards for safety, runes to enhance power, and ever-shifting lines that changed to match each apprentice’s affinity.

Cracked targets stood at the edges, scorched from recent fire magic practice. A blast of wind surged from a young girl’s outstretched palm, sending her opponent skidding across the ground, only to be caught by a glowing safety ward that rippled like liquid glass.

A faint mist hovered above the arena’s elemental section—where water, ice, fire, and air collided in controlled chaos.

Two apprentices sparred mid-air, supported by gravity-defying platforms flickering with unstable runes. Nearby, a trio worked in unison to summon a storm cloud, trying to strike a summoned creature shaped like a crystalline wolf, which growled and dodged with eerie agility.

Back in the hallway, the urgency in Mila and Adeline’s pace didn’t go unnoticed. Conversations faltered. Heads turned.

Amethyst, seated on a window ledge with her boots propped up against the frame, narrowed her eyes as she watched the two. Her half-laced coat fluttered slightly with the draft, and the book she’d been pretending to read now hung forgotten in her hand.

"Something’s again," she murmured.

Gail, who had been pacing nearby, attempting for the third time that hour to bend a floating orb of violet light into the perfect shape of a rose, froze mid-step.

The orb fizzled out with an annoyed crackle the moment her concentration snapped. Her brows met, lips curling into a frown as her gaze locked onto the retreating figures of Mila and Adeline.

"Let’s follow them..." Gail said, already moving, but Amethyst didn’t budge.

She stood still, eyes narrowing on the direction the girls disappeared into—where the light dimmed and shadows bled into the corridor like creeping vines.

"Amethyst!" Gail hissed, throwing her hands up. "Are you seriously just going to stand there? I know Sil did something again. We should know."

Before Amethyst could answer, a cool, dismissive voice drifted in from the intersection to the right.

"That’s none of your business, isn’t it?"

Gail blinked, then turned slowly to see Cullen leaning casually against the stone wall, arms crossed and wearing the usual unreadable expression that made people either swoon or want to punch him. Usually both.

"Oh, shut up," Gail snorted, brushing her long coat behind her shoulders like she was about to square up. "You talk like you’ve never once been curious about the chaos that woman causes." She paused mid-rant, her eyes flicking behind Cullen’s shoulder with obvious suspicion. "Wait—where’s Levi? I thought you two were fused at the hip lately."

Cullen raised an amused brow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Haven’t been with Levi today. Perhaps, he’s with... you know."

Gail grimaced, the expression pure venom mixed with exasperation. "Ugh. Shut your hole."

"I thought you just told me to open it," Cullen replied smoothly. The faint breeze that wafted through the corridor tousled a lock of his dark hair as he tilted his head toward Amethyst.

Her mana was flaring again—searing like a simmering flame restrained only by sheer will. Cullen felt it almost instantly, gaze shifted back to her, curious now. "You know," he said, raising an eyebrow, "if you’re that curious, why won’t you follow those two?"

Amethyst’s blue eyes flicked to him, annoyed, as she placed the book beside the bench she had claimed earlier. She didn’t move right away, her arms crossing over her chest like a queen refusing to be goaded.

"You felt that aura earlier," Cullen continued, stepping closer now, his voice lower, his tone almost mocking. "That wasn’t just mana."

Amethyst snorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Are you implying that strong presence came from Silvermist?" Her lip curled into a smirk. "You know, for someone who’s always saying he doesn’t like her, you’re one hell of a fan."

Cullen opened his mouth, prepared to toss back a retort that was surely equal parts sarcasm and venom—but something shifted.

Instantly, both of them straightened.

Amethyst’s head snapped in the direction of the west wing where Adeline and Mila disappeared. Cullen narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening. A subtle flicker in the atmosphere, a sudden absence that only trained mana-sensitive individuals could notice. A vanishing. A disappearance.

"Adeline and Mila..." Amethyst muttered.

Their mana signatures—gone. Not masked, not shielded. Gone.

Without a word, Cullen pushed off the archway and started walking, boots hitting the polished stone with calculated urgency. Gail, who had been trying to eavesdrop from a few paces away while pretending to casually juggle a series of glowing runes, didn’t need to be told twice. She fell in step behind him with a soft curse under her breath.

Amethyst hesitated for only a second before rolling her eyes and following them, clutching her book tightly before flicking her wrist to make it vanish into her magic storage.

The corridor was alive now, whispers trailing behind them as other apprentices glanced up from their training sessions, wondering what had stirred the upper ranks into motion.

Far across the sprawling arena, in a shaded corner flanked by towering crystalline barriers that pulsed gently with mana, stood three more figures.

Ericka Crimsonwind stood like a sentinel—short, poised, her long hair braided in a crown that glinted under the soft sunlight pouring in from the enchanted skylights. Her arms were behind her back, and her eyes were fixed on the trio now vanishing into the shadows.

At her side floated Ayumi Inoue, perched delicately on a soft cloud of pale blue mist she had summoned with ease. The younger apprentice’s kimono-style uniform fluttered gently as the cloud hovered, and her keen eyes never left the trail of Cullen and the others.

Beside her, Riruka Fujishima sat with her legs crossed on a rock, tongue poking out slightly as she attempted—unsuccessfully—to transmute the tiny crackling lightning ball in her palm into something more impressive. Instead, it popped, turning into a harmless soap bubble, which she groaned at before flicking it away with a finger.

"Are we not going to follow them, Ericka?" Ayumi asked, her voice light, but tinged with concern. Her cloud wobbled slightly, picking up her unease.

Riruka sighed dramatically. "Ughhh. I thought we were supposed to be keeping a close eye on Levi. Why are we not moving now, Ricka? You better know they know where he is, right? This feels like side-quest energy and I’m not in the mood."

Ericka’s eyes didn’t waver. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but carried command. "The Winter Apprentice hasn’t shown up to training today."

That alone was enough to make Ayumi’s cloud dip a few inches.

"Her two friends have also skipped," Ericka continued, sharp gaze narrowing. "Now Cullen, Gail, and Amethyst are trailing after them. And I haven’t seen Levi since this morning."

Riruka finally stopped playing with her mana and looked up. "Wait. You think something actually happened?"

Ericka didn’t answer immediately. Her brows knit together in concentration as she raised her hand toward the open air. A swirl of deep purple mana coiled above her palm like a living flame, flickering with a soft hum.

The color was rich, almost bruised in shade, tinged with silvery threads that pulsed faintly like veins under skin. It hovered for only a moment before evaporating into the ether, vanishing with a faint hiss.

The air around them shifted, cooler now, like a breath exhaled by something ancient. Dust from the stone tiles stirred as if caught in a breeze, though none could be felt.

The training arena—which had been humming with noise moments ago—seemed to fall into a strange silence around them. The noise from the apprentices clashing, shouting, and chanting spells seemed to dull, almost distant.

The wind swirled again, brushing past Ericka’s hair and sleeves like invisible fingers. She stood motionless, listening.

It felt as though the wind was whispering secrets only she could hear.

"We can’t just trail after them," Ericka finally murmured, her voice low but firm.

Her eyes scanned the direction Adeline and Mila had gone, vanishing down the far end of the arched corridor. "Our mana is too weak. We might disappear entirely if we step closer to wherever they’re heading."

Riruka let out an exaggerated groan and threw her hands into the air. "Damn, even in magical society, discrimination is still a thing. Weak mana, low tier, back of the class—how nice!"

Ayumi gave her a warning look, still perched atop her floating cloud like a scolding bird. "That’s not what she meant and you know it."

Before Ericka could respond, a new presence approached. From the opposite direction, Kenji Duskridge walked toward them.

His dark hair was tousled as always, strands falling across one sharp brow. His uniform, stitched with the red lining of the Beryl section, was wrinkled and slightly smudged with sand and dust—likely from another intense bout of training.

He was Cay’s apprentice—known for his silence, precision, and brutal sand-based spells that could peel layers off boulders.

Among the apprentices, he was one of the more respected combatants just like Cullen and other high ranking apprentices like Ezekiel, Sebastian, and West, though rarely seen socializing with anyone outside his circle.

"Excuse me," Kenji mumbled, scratching the back of his head as he stopped in front of them. He avoided direct eye contact, his amber eyes flickering from Ericka to Ayumi, then Riruka.

Riruka snorted and stepped forward, folding her arms. "Yo, what’s up, Japanese boy? Thought you weren’t talking to someone like us?"

Kenji winced slightly. "I only said not to talk to me when I’m training. I can’t concentrate when people are yelling or casting fireworks near me."

"Same thing!" Riruka barked, rolling her eyes. "Now spill. What do you want?"

Kenji hesitated. He adjusted the collar of his uniform, clearly uneasy, before finally speaking. "Uhm... have you guys sensed anything... off? Since this morning?"

The question made all three girls pause.

Ayumi floated down slightly from her cloud, now hovering only a few inches off the ground. "What kind of off?"

Kenji took a breath, his fingers twitching slightly. "It was early... maybe around the fourth bell. I was meditating near the Red Sands altar when I felt it. A rupture. A brief spike in the mana field—it was like something tore through the layers. Violently. Not a natural fluctuation."

Ericka straightened, eyes narrowing. "A rupture?"

Kenji nodded slowly. "It lasted less than a minute, but it didn’t seal. It just... lingered. Like something was keeping it open."

"That’s impossible," Ayumi said softly, clutching her staff. "Only high mages can keep a mana rift open that long, and even then, it drains them."

Kenji shook his head. "Exactly. It’s not right."

Riruka tapped her foot impatiently. "Okay, so let me get this straight: creepy rift opens up and just sits there, and now people are vanishing into hallways and not returning. We’ve got Cullen, Gail, Amethyst, Mila, Adeline—and the ever-elusive Winter Princess—all missing in action. And Levi, too? No one’s seen that guy since yesterday."

Kenji’s voice dropped. "I went deeper, tried to track it, but the west wing—something’s wrong with it. I stepped maybe twenty paces in, and the temperature dropped ten degrees. My sand spells wouldn’t even form properly. The walls looked... warped."

Ericka turned her head, eyes once again drawn to the direction the others had vanished. Her jaw tightened. "It’s not just a mana rupture."

"No," Kenji agreed. "It felt... sentient."

For a moment, none of them spoke.

Then, without turning, Ericka said, "You’re coming with us."

Kenji blinked. "Wait—what?"

"You have the sharpest mana detection in your rank. If there’s something anchoring that tear, we’ll need someone who can follow the threads without triggering it," she explained, already walking.

Ayumi whirled her cloud around and took off after Ericka, her fingers pulsing with glowing white sparks. "I’ve got light barriers ready. Just say the word."

Riruka cursed under her breath and followed. "Ugh. If we end up fighting a mirror demon or some haunted stairwell again, I swear I’m going to scream. And then punch someone. Possibly both."

Kenji jogged to catch up, his cloak flaring behind him. "Shouldn’t we at least report this to the professors?"

Ericka replied without looking back, "If the professors wanted to notice, they would have by now. I’m sure they already sensed something is going on."

As the group passed through the stone arch leading to the west wing, the lanterns lining the walls flickered... then dimmed.

Behind them, the wind in the arena stirred again, this time colder, like an unseen breath trailing after them.And from deep within the forgotten wing, the echoes of chanting began—too distant to hear the words, but unmistakably real.

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