EX-Rank Villain: Rise Beyond Fate-Chapter 60 - 23 – Echoes of Blood

Unseen by the hundreds of students laughing, training, and competing—

a storm was brewing.

The Liberation Organization had finally moved.

They were no longer whispering from the shadows.

Now, they were inside the walls.

---

One of them wore a professor’s uniform—blending in with the staff,

smiling, handing out scrolls.

Another?

He wore a student’s robe, quietly watching, listening, waiting.

Their targets were clear:

Lucien.

Ignis.

Liana.

And a beastfolk prodigy from the eastern jungles.

Each of them a future pillar of the world—

Each of them now a mark on someone’s dagger.

---

Lucien sat alone on the third-floor balcony of the west tower, sipping tea.

He wasn’t fond of tea. Never had been.

But some habits helped him observe. Helped him think.

Today, something was off.

He stared into the cup.

No visible difference.

No smell.

But...

Flow of Adaptation: Passive Instinct Alert.

His body twitched—barely.

Lucien stood, casually walked to the edge of the balcony,

and poured the tea over the side.

Below, a student passing by sneezed and cursed.

Lucien didn’t smile.

"Mana suppression herb," he muttered. "Subtle. Costly. Rare."

Not something a student would use.

Not unless someone trained them.

He didn’t raise the alarm.

No dramatic declaration.

Just a quiet mental note.

[Targeted: Confirmed.]

---

Selena Arkwright, the Crimson Tutor, stood by the staff garden, her crimson eyes narrowed.

She’d noticed too.

One of the assistant instructors had changed his mannerisms.

Too careful. Too polite.

And today, he corrected her spell diagram—incorrectly.

A small slip.

But the kind only someone hiding something would make.

She didn’t confront him.

Yet.

But her eyes followed him now.

Always.

---

Meanwhile, the fake student sat in class, watching Ignis.

His notes were blank. His eyes sharp.

Every move Ignis made, every habit, every flaw—

Noted.

Ignis didn’t notice.

He was too focused on catching up to Lucien. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Too focused on sharpening his blade skills.

Too focused on that distant, burning desire to win.

The assassin smiled.

---

That evening, the academy’s mess hall glowed with warm lights and loud laughter.

He listened but spoke little.

His senses were stretched—wider than usual.

Shadow Soldiers were hidden inside dark corners, beneath tables, between flickering flames.

Their vision fed back to him like silent security cameras.

One shadow shifted near the eastern exit.

Another student slipped something into a beastkin girl’s drink.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed.

With a thought, a shadow emerged silently behind the boy.

No one saw it.

No one heard it.

But the boy jolted as something cold and unseen gripped his wrist.

He dropped the vial. It shattered on the floor.

Lucien stood.

Everyone paused.

"Accident," he said flatly.

The boy was pale.

Sweating.

He ran.

Lucien didn’t chase.

He didn’t need to.

---

That night, in the underground Shadow Nest, Lucien stood before his summoned soldiers.

They knelt in silence, made of shade and will.

"Track every interaction the fake staff member makes," he ordered.

"Send scouts into the restricted zones. I want three layers of surveillance."

The shadows bowed and dissolved.

---

Meanwhile, the Liberation agents adjusted their plans.

They underestimated the target.

Lucien Arkanveil wasn’t normal.

He never had been.

The poison failed. The setup failed.

But they weren’t giving up.

Their next move would be bolder.

Bloodier.

---

Selena received a sealed message at midnight. It smelled faintly of old parchment and rosewood.

She opened it.

Inside was a single line:

"They’re inside."

Her fingers tensed around the paper.

She lit it on fire with a flick of mana and stared out the window toward the east wall.

The staff member with the fake smile passed by.

She said nothing.

But her eyes glowed a little redder that night.

---

Elsewhere in the academy—deep beneath the alchemy wing—a forbidden tunnel trembled faintly.

A cloaked figure passed through. Alone.

He wasn’t Liberation.

He wasn’t staff.

He wasn’t even on the registry.

But he moved like he belonged.

And the mark glowing faintly on his wrist was unmistakable—

A sigil of the Liberation Organization’s inner circle.

---

Back in Lucien’s room, a final message blinked across his system panel:

[Shadow General: Detected Disruption – Ward Triggered]

He turned sharply.

Something had entered through the shadow of a dead candle flame.

A whisper echoed in the room, raspy and old:

"He watches you now, Arkanveil."

Lucien didn’t react.

"Let him."

He clenched his fist.

Shadow swirled outward like smoke.

But when he looked again—

The flame was gone.

And so was the voice.

Only the faint scent of blood remained.

Lucien didn’t sleep that night.

He couldn’t.

Not now.