Chapter 39: Student Council War 5

Chapter 39: Student Council War 5 The battlefield still steamed from clashing magic as the smoke of broken spells hung in the air like breath from dying gods. The aftermath of our ambush had reshaped the war board. Rayne Thorne had retreated. His confidence—cracked. His faction—scattered. His throne—unstable. And yet, I knew this wasn’t victory. It was only the beginning of a more dangerous game. We returned to our fortress in silence, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant roars of defeated summons vanishing into the void. Layla walked at my side, her blade still glowing faintly with residual ice magic. Lucielle followed, dragging an unconscious Darius behind her like a sack of meat. Sasha had been quiet, trembling slightly, the Bloodfire still pulsing in her veins even as she clutched her side where a cursed arrow had grazed her. I looked at them all. And I knew what we were becoming. Not students. Not just competitors. But soldiers. Killers. Survivors. Inside the war room, the map glowed with data relayed by our scouts. Garrick marked Rayne’s withdrawal path with blood-red chalk, while Noora updated kill counts and mana reserves on the board. Our victory had been decisive—but not complete. We hadn’t eliminated their leadership. That meant retaliation was not just likely—it was inevitable. "Status of their units?" I asked, removing my gauntlets. Layla answered crisply. "Rin and Seraphina escaped the glade. Mirage is down. Vexis retreated with minimal injuries. Rayne is hiding behind illusion barriers near the Ravager’s Hollow." "And their morale?" Lucielle smirked. "Shot. Rayne’s men scattered like wet paper when the second volley hit. I saw Cecilia literally holding back Nyx from charging blindly after Rin." "Good," I said, pacing slowly. "That means they’ll fight desperate. Which means they’ll be stupid." Sasha looked up from her position in the corner. Her voice was quiet. "Do we push now? While they’re broken?" I paused. And I smiled. "No. We let them stew in their humiliation. Let them grow paranoid. Let them rot." Meanwhile, in the shattered heart of Rayne’s encampment... Blood dripped from Rayne’s jaw. His armor was scorched. His pride, shattered. Cecilia stood before him, arms crossed, her face unreadable. Nyx sat nearby, healing Mirage’s wounds with trembling hands. Rin paced back and forth, looking every bit the wolf denied its kill. "He toyed with us," Rin growled. "Ashen planned the entire battle like a theater act. He knew exactly where we’d be." "Because we’ve been predictable," Cecilia replied coldly. "We underestimated his ability to adapt. That’s our mistake." Rayne raised his head slowly. "No. That was her mistake." He pointed a bloodied finger toward the center of the room. "Seraphina." She was silent, kneeling before them, her hair matted with sweat and smoke. She didn’t meet his eyes. "You hesitated," Rayne said. "You let your guard drop. Because of him." Seraphina’s voice was barely audible. "He... let me go." "He manipulated you. Just like he manipulates everyone." Nyx snapped, "Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have done the same if she were your pawn." Cecilia stepped in between them. "Enough. Blaming her won’t fix our losses." Rayne slammed his fist down on the table, cracking it. "It’s time we hit back. Not with brute force. With a message." Rin’s eyes lit with violent approval. "A strike team?" Rayne grinned darkly. "No. Something worse. We take what he values. We shatter their unity. Make them question each other." He looked to Seraphina. "You’re going back." She blinked. "Excuse me?" "You’ve already blurred the line. Now break it." "You want me to betray him?" "No," Rayne said. "I want you to make him believe you won’t." Back at our fortress... The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the training field. I stood alone in the tower, watching the horizon. Volkin sat nearby, chewing on the remains of a shadow-touched bone like a content hound. [System: You know this isn’t over.] "Obviously." [System: You just beat the king. But kings don’t die easy.] "Let him come. I’ve already sacrificed my pawns. The knights are in position. The rooks are armed. The bishop’s ready to burn." [System: And the queen?] I didn’t answer. Not yet. Because the queen might already be in motion. That night, I patrolled the outer wards alone. It was instinct. A gut feeling. And just as I crossed the eastern ridge—she appeared. Seraphina. Moonlight painted her face in soft hues. Her eyes were conflicted. Her bow was unstrung. "We need to talk," she said. I nodded. "Walk with me." We strolled between the thorns and shadow trees, the silence between us heavier than any sword. She broke it first. "Why did you let me go?" I smirked. "Would you believe I’m soft for pretty girls who try to stab me?" She didn’t smile. "You knew what would happen. You knew Rayne would turn on me." I shrugged. "Rayne was always going to burn his pawns. I just accelerated the fire." "So I’m your pawn now?" "No," I said, stopping. I turned to her. "You’re a queen who hasn’t decided which board she belongs to." Her eyes widened. For a heartbeat, her magic flared. Then she stepped closer. "What if I told you Rayne sent me back to betray you?" I didn’t flinch. "I’d say it’s your move." She stared at me. Then leaned forward. And whispered: "Then maybe I’ll betray him instead." The night was far from over. But something had changed. And deep within the shadows of the battlefield, the real war had just begun. Not of blades. But of hearts. And in this game? The king had made his move. But now the queen held the knife. The stars above Ashborn glimmered like cracks in reality, each one a tear in the veil that separated strategy from truth. And beneath their cold witness, Seraphina Loire donned her mask. The mask wasn’t made of porcelain, or paint, or illusion spells. It was made of silence. It had begun the moment she returned to the Galat fortress—after whispering treason into Ashen Crimson’s ear. Rayne hadn’t spoken a word when she arrived back, not even when Cecilia’s gaze sliced her like a dagger. Rin had nodded once in acknowledgment but nothing more. Nyx, however, stared long and hard—as if trying to see what Seraphina herself wasn’t sure of. "You were gone too long," Nyx said. "Too quiet." "I had to run wide to escape pursuit," Seraphina lied. "They nearly caught me twice." Rayne finally spoke, voice like iron striking ice. "Did he believe you?" Seraphina met his eyes. "Yes." Rayne nodded once. "Then play your role. Get close to him. Feed us information. And when the time comes, strike. You owe me that much." She didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. She simply said, "Understood." But inside, her mind spun like a hurricane. Because she didn’t know which side she was truly on anymore. The next morning, she returned to Ashen’s fortress. Alone. Carrying a small scroll enchanted to pulse subtly with tracking runes—Rayne’s gift. She concealed it beneath the lining of her glove, close to her skin. When the gates opened and Ashen greeted her at the edge of the warded zone, she expected suspicion. Instead, he handed her a cup of honey tea. "Morning, spy," he said with a smirk. She stared at the cup. "You really trust me that much?" "I trust no one," he replied. "But I understand people. You’re not here because Rayne sent you. Not anymore. You’re here because you want to see how far I’ll let you go." "And will you?" Ashen’s grin widened. "Depends. How convincing is your betrayal?" Over the next two days, Seraphina played her role. She sparred with Layla—losing, intentionally. She trained with Lucielle—showing weakness. She avoided Eren’s suspicious glares, dodged Noora’s icy sarcasm, and gave Sasha just enough warmth to seem harmless. But Ashen? He saw through it all. He didn’t confront her. Didn’t accuse her. Instead, he placed her in the heart of his strategy. She was assigned to the inner perimeter. Given access to encrypted mana scrolls. Given responsibility for scouting relay nodes and intel timing. She thought: Why? She thought: Is he reckless? Or just cruel? But then, one night—he joined her on the outer watch. They stood in silence for a while. Then he said: "I’ve already removed the tracking rune." Seraphina stiffened. "Your glove," he added. "It gave off a weak mana signature. Too consistent. No flux. Obvious trap." She said nothing. He sipped his tea. "So now that you’ve failed your mission, what happens next?" "...Rayne will think I’m still gathering intel." "Good. Feed him lies. Keep his eyes looking left while we burn him from the right." She turned to him, frustrated. "Why do you trust me?" Ashen looked at her—really looked. "Because I don’t need you to betray him. I need you to choose. And I think you already have." The following night, Layla summoned Seraphina to the inner sanctum—Crimson Dawn’s true war chamber. The walls were etched with complex sigils—blood runes, enchantments, sensory filters. At the center, a glowing orb of voidlight displayed every known Galat movement across the map. Layla’s expression was unreadable. Beside her stood Lucielle, Noora, and Ashen. Ashen spoke first. "We’re launching the second phase in 48 hours. You’re part of the infiltration team." Seraphina blinked. "You’re trusting me... in the field?" Lucielle folded her arms. "Ashen thinks you’re sincere. I think you’re conflicted. Layla thinks you’re a risk worth taking." Layla’s voice was calm. "We’re sending you and Liora into Galat’s eastern storage bunkers. You’ll sabotage the mana nodes that support their barrier spells. If you fail, we lose the advantage. If you’re caught, we’ll deny your existence." Seraphina nodded slowly. "And if I succeed?" Ashen smirked. "Then we give you a real position here. One without masks." Midnight – Two days later The wind was bitter as Seraphina and Liora slipped through the unguarded ravine that wound toward Galat’s eastern flank. Ashen’s intel was terrifyingly accurate—right down to the changing patrol cycles. Liora, silent as a shadow, planted the first disruption talisman along a mana conduit root. Seraphina crouched beside her, drawing the second rune into the dirt. That’s when they heard voices. Footsteps. Two Galat sentries. Elara melted into shadow. Seraphina stood tall. The guards rounded the bend—and froze. "Seraphina?" She didn’t hesitate. One arrow. Two. Both dropped before they could cry out. Elara raised an eyebrow. "That hesitation people spoke of? I didn’t see it." Seraphina wiped her blade clean. "I’m done hesitating." By the time the sun rose, the mana nodes of Galat’s eastern quadrant were smoking ruins. Ashen stood atop the fortress wall as the first reports came in. "Rayne’s barrier spells are collapsing," Garrick announced. "Their reserves are leaking into the forest. Open energy signatures everywhere." Ashen nodded. "Tell Sasha to prepare Bloodfire payloads. We burn them out tonight." Lucielle glanced at him. "And Seraphina?" Ashen’s eyes narrowed. "She made her move." That evening, Seraphina stood on the edge of the cliff outside Crimson Dawn’s command deck. The wind was sharp, the world below painted in crimson and gold. Ashen approached, hands in his coat pockets. "So?" he asked. She didn’t turn. "The mask’s off." He smiled. "And what do you see now?" She finally turned to face him. "A bastard. A manipulator. A strategist who plays people like strings." He nodded. "All true." She stepped closer. "But also someone who gave me the choice Rayne never would." He leaned in, voice soft. "And your choice?" Seraphina stared at him. Then she leaned forward. And this time— she kissed him. Far off in the dying embers of Rayne’s fortress, a comm crystal shattered as Rayne received news of the sabotage. His face twisted. "Seraphina... you traitorous witch." He turned to Rin, eyes alight with fury. "Prepare the Soulbrand. We burn them all." But deep down— Rayne already knew: The war had changed. And he was no longer holding the blade. Now? The blade had chosen a new wielder. Visit freewebn(o)vel.com for the best novel reading experience