SHAMAN PROTOCOL
Chapter 80: The One Without Aura

Chapter 80: The One Without Aura

"Like I was saying, Tahu, that guy shattered my glass. It’s safe to say he’s gonna pay for the damages, right?"

BAM!

Smoke rose from the wall behind Mikel as he casually pointed in that direction, head turned toward Tahu and the students beside him.

"Did he... just kick him like that?" one student asked, barely recovering, eyes wide as they stared at Mikel.

"Is he serious?" another muttered under her breath. "That’s what he’s going to say?"

The only student who had remained seated throughout the entire chaos chuckled, picking up another toothpick to nibble. The interest in his eyes was crystal clear.

Tahu blinked, glancing at the spot where Mikel had sent the bully flying, then back at Mikel. Just now, he hadn’t felt any spiritual energy from him. None of them had.

Spiritual energy usually gave off a distinct aura, but until now, the only oppressive pressure had come from the bully and his Phantom — the Black Knight’s Aura. And yet, Mikel had sent him flying without using even a flicker of spiritual power?

"What... just happened?" the silver knight wielder muttered, staring at Mikel blankly. He had seen everything, yet all he could say was... that kick was just a kick. No spiritual boost. No technique.

"Impossible," he breathed out. "How could that—? That’s not possible."

Maybe for a weaker Phantom. But for a Guardian Phantom like the Dray Clan’s?

"Hey," Mikel’s casual tone snapped them all out of their daze. "Tahu."

"Uh—" Tahu cleared his throat. "Of course. He’s the one who broke it, my friend. It’s only right he pays for it."

Mikel sighed in relief, the tip of his ears twitching as cracking sounds echoed from where the bully had landed.

"Catch!" He tossed his tray like a boomerang. Tahu caught it just before it flew overhead. "Don’t let him break that. I’m not paying for shit."

Everyone instinctively looked at the plate in Tahu’s hand, then at Mikel’s back. Mikel had already turned, watching the bully smash the end of his glaive against the floor as he forced himself up.

"You freak..." the bully muttered, touching the side of his bleeding temple. Rage burned in his eyes as he glared at Mikel, his grip on the pole trembling with humiliation.

But even in his anger, a plethora of questions ran wild in his mind.

How the hell did that heterochromia freak send him flying?

He scanned Mikel from head to toe, only to make sure there was no spiritual signature from him. There were only two possible explanations: either Mikel had no real power, or he’d mastered concealment.

"There’s no way it’s the latter," he growled under his breath.

Because if it was, that would put Mikel in the realm of Zone Zero elites—something only a handful could achieve. Even in the Dray Clan, only the clan leader could do that.

No way a first-year nobody could be at that level.

"What’re you mumbling over there?" Mikel tilted his head lazily, eyes narrowing at the rising spiritual pressure. "Still not done? Is this even safe?"

[Spiritual Stability Collapse Detected.]

I know that, Doom. But is he gonna die from that?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the glaive shot forth but not at Mikel, but at the students behind him.

CLANG!

Tahu punched the blade’s side to divert it, barely saving students behind him who just stood there, waiting to get decapitated.

"What are you doing?!" Tahu barked. "Aren’t you all shamans!? Open the damn door—NOW!"

His shout snapped them out of it. Since the doors wouldn’t budge with force, they had to unseal it using a different method than just forcing it open. But even that would take time.

Meanwhile, Mikel hadn’t flinched. He watched the glaive return to its owner like nothing happened. If a student or two became casualties, so be it. After facing a Type X, he had to admit—the bully wasn’t entirely wrong.

These guys were going to die; those Type X were merciless, after all.

Still, the Phantom wielders piqued his interest. He already had Haleth as a support-type. Maybe it was time to look for a combat-type, so once his next phantom contract was available, he could sign him up.

"Haha..." the bully spat blood to the side, eyes burning. "Screw it."

He spun his glaive, creating a slashing sound in the air. After that, he propelled himself toward Mikel. The weapon slashed down, while Mikel stepped back and leaned away effortlessly.

"You nobody!" the bully roared, swinging again. Each miss made him wilder, more erratic.

The students, who were no help unsealing the doors, just watched. They wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Hence, they watched how the bully swung his weapon while Mikel dodged the attacks with fluid precision.

"He’s not even... breaking a sweat," one student whispered. "Is he moving that way to... protect us?"

"What... what’s going on?" another muttered. "It looks like..."

Mikel was toying with him.

All the bully’s earlier dominance had crumbled with each miss. The fear he planted in everyone’s heart slowly vanished, replaced by a strange awe. Now, he looked like a child flailing a plastic toy.

But that glaive wasn’t a toy, and it was far from harmless.

Mikel analyzed the weapon up close, seemingly unbothered.

[Analyzing Phantom... Saving Black Knight Guardian Phantom log.]

As Doom finished, Mikel caught the pole mid-strike, stopping it.

"What—" the bully’s eyes widened. "How—?!"

Before he could finish, Mikel kicked him in the gut, sending him tumbling onto a table. He coughed violently as Mikel now stood holding the glaive, examining it like a curious antique enthusiast.

"Wow," Mikel murmured. The glaive pulsed under his grip, trembling, resisting his hold.

The silver knight wielder’s jaw dropped. "How... how is he holding the Hound? Just — just who is this guy?"

The Hound—Black Knight Guardian Phantom—only responded to the Dray Clan’s heir. It was how they choose their next head of their clan. On top of that, Guardian Phantoms were fiercely loyal—anyone else would be overwhelmed or killed just by touching it. Let alone hold it.

But Mikel held it like it was nothing.

The Silver Knight Phantom remained still behind its wielder, observing Mikel. It saw what others didn’t. The glaive was struggling to break free, while Mikel’s grip held it firm.

To others, it was confusing, but to the Phantoms, it was an act of being forced into submission.

Yet, both Phantoms were aware it wasn’t about dominance.

Mikel wasn’t stealing it. He was holding it back, preventing something worse.

"Give it back!" the bully roared, pushing himself up. "You freak—how dare you taint my glaive!?"

He turned to his supports. "What are you two doing!?"

His lackeys were already pale with one of them already coughing blood. He had just poured his spiritual energy into stabilizing the merge.

"You useless—"

"Eron!" the silver knight wielder yelled. "Stop! You’re going to kill them—not just them, yourself too!"

"He’s right!" Tahu added. "Another second wielding your phantom and you’re dead!"

"He’s protecting you," the silver knight gasped. "Just stop this!"

Mikel blinked. "No, that’s not what I’m doing."

"Tch..." Eron clenched his fists, glaring at everyone. "You think I can’t handle this?! I survived a year here!"

His laughter unhinged until it suddenly stopped. "I’ll show you."

The glaive rattled in Mikel’s hand, making him glance at the weapon. "You don’t want me to let go?"

His question faded into the shout that came at the same time.

"It’s open!" a student yelled. "It’s open!"

At the same time, Doom’s screen flashed.

[System Notice: New Presence Detected. Academy Reinforcement Deployed.]

Seeing that, Mikel glanced at the glaive and then released it. The weapon snapped back to its owner instantly.

Ahh...

He watched Eron charge again, but Mikel didn’t move. He watched as the glaive’s blade glinted before he dropped flat on his back.

THUD!

CLANG!

Keeping his eyes closed, Mikel felt the floor under his spine. A thin scratch traced his cheek, a small drop of blood dripping from it. When he opened his eyes, Eron towered over him, his glaive embedded into the floor, inches from Mikel’s face.

Mikel smirked at him.

"Teacher’s here," he whispered. "Game over."

Right on cue, a shout rang through the cafeteria.

"ERON!"

The teacher’s voice cracked with fury as he spotted the glaive mere inches from a freshman’s face.

His eyes darkened.

But Eron didn’t even register it. He just stared blankly at Mikel, while the latter smiled calmly beneath him.

"Headmaster’s office, NOW!"