Extra's POV: I am the Sixteenth Son

The Cradle had many strict rules, and among all of them, there was one it took very seriously: curfew.

There were many reasons why curfews might be important, the most reasonable being that this was the perfect time for any infiltration of any sort. When darkness fell and students were locked away in their dormitories, the academy became vulnerable in ways that daylight never allowed.

The Cradle was understaffed, with a lot of restrictions in place. Not quite many personnel could be employed due to budget constraints and security clearances, and the ones who were employed weren't guaranteed to be of the highest rank. Most of the night guards were barely Advanced level, barely enough to handle rowdy students, let alone real threats.

This created windows of opportunity that certain people knew how to exploit.

---

Ares ran out of the Echovault, almost completely drained, his lips curled up into a wide smile as he reminisced about his fight with the Gloomantula. Despite getting beaten again, he was making obvious progress, and in no time he would win effortlessly. The spider's movements were becoming predictable, its attacks less surprising. He could feel victory approaching like the dawn after a long night.

"Shit! Roul is going to kill me, no doubt about that," his thoughts changed as he remembered that Roul had pleaded with him to help with something important. His roommate had sounded genuinely worried, which was unusual for someone as laid-back as Roul.

"That doesn't matter, I'll just tell him Ethan asked me to do something for him," Ares muttered to himself, already crafting his excuse. Ethan was sly enough that even Roul wouldn't question orders from the Echovault supervisor.

Ares maneuvered his way through the various courts in the Cradle, trying to beat time and make it back to the dormitory before Roul started panicking. The familiar stone pathways seemed longer tonight, shadows deeper between the buildings. When suddenly, he felt it.

A chill that had nothing to do with the evening air.

"What's this feeling?" he thought as he instinctively clenched his fist. He could feel a pressure had come over him like a heavy blanket of dread. Pure killing intent, unlike the controlled aura he normally felt from the instructors and older students. This was raw, hungry, and focused. He could tell that whoever was projecting this energy was serious trouble, the kind of trouble that left bodies behind.

Ares immediately started to pick up the pace, moving in between buildings as a means to hide himself. The energy was getting closer, and he didn't like it one bit. His heart hammered against his ribs as adrenaline flooded his system. Every shadow seemed to hide a potential attacker, every sound made him jump.

"But this is the Cradle, no one would dare attack an Eisenklinge property!" he thought, trying to discern what he had just felt. The reasoning should have been sound, the Eisenklinge family was a major powerhouse in the empire and the human domain. Touching their blood was asking for death, a guarantee that your entire family line would be hunted down and eliminated. Why would someone attack an academy full of scions that would carry the next generation of the empire's nobility?

But the killing intent didn't care about politics or family names.

Ares had run through several buildings and was so lost in panicked thought that he had taken a right turn just after a building noted to be the cafeteria. He had moved completely off track and was now headed for the training field, which most likely was abandoned at this time of night. It finally dawned on him with crystal clarity, he was being led this way. This was part of the person's plan. He had fallen into their trap like a mouse following cheese into a cage.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, making his steps falter.

---

Ares was now standing in the open field where most of the Cradle's students carried out their physical conditioning and sometimes martial training during the day. The sky was darkened to an inky black, and tiny drops of rain could be felt on his cheeks like cold tears from an indifferent sky. The weather was turning, matching the ominous mood that had settled over the night.

He instinctively gripped the handle of his sword, which was strapped to his waist, as he turned around anxiously. His breathing was heavy and rapid, his eyes darting all around the place, searching for any sign of movement. But there was nothing visible, just empty space, training equipment standing like silent sentinels, and the growing sound of rainfall.

The silence was almost worse than an attack would have been.

Then it came. A shadow could be seen on the ground, projecting the form of a young person against the wet stone. Ares looked up slowly, his stomach sinking as he tried to identify who was the one that had led him through this deadly path. His eyes traveled upward, following the shadow to its source, and then his gaze landed on the figure perched above.

A boy with fair skin that seemed to glow in the dim light, his white long hair falling and dancing in the gentle breeze that had slowly begun to get rough as the rain began to intensify. The boy's eyes were closed, but it was obvious he could see clearly despite the darkness. On his face was an evil grin, a grin that clearly showed he was satisfied with the present outcome, one he never wore in public. This was a different person entirely from the polite, respectful student everyone knew.

This was Vael, and his plan to kill Ares was gradually becoming real.

After getting word from Juno that the guards had been successfully handled, it was only a matter of minutes before Ares had darted out of the Echovault right on schedule. Vael had been watching him like a hawk from afar, hidden in the shadows and using his superior rank to mask his presence. He had tailed Ares from behind, thinking carefully about where he could realize his plan without interruption. He had then concluded to use the training field, but he would need to use his aura to force Ares' hand and drive him into the corner like a hunted animal.

Everything was proceeding exactly as planned.

---

Ares' expression broke as his usually dignified presence shattered completely. "V—Vael?" he called out, as though trying to prove his eyes were lying to him. His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear that was rapidly building in his chest.

The latter just stood there for a while, savoring the moment like fine wine, before he then burst into heavy laughter that echoed across the empty field. "Hahahaha!" He laughed nonstop, the sound carrying a manic edge that made Ares' skin crawl.

Vael laughed for three very specific reasons. First was that soon his family would be free from Cassia's suffocating clutch, no more walking on eggshells, no more bowing and scraping to maintain their position. The second being he would finally bring pride to his father, who had grown tired of the family's subservient position. And finally, he laughed while mocking Ares, who had mistreated him despite being nothing more than a spare heir. Now it was time for revenge, sweet and complete.

Ares remained completely baffled, his mind struggling to process what was happening. In the blink of an eye, Vael had covered the distance between them, appearing directly in front of Ares like a ghost materializing from thin air. The latter was too shocked to react properly, his training abandoning him in the face of this impossible situation.

In the next second, Vael shot a powerful fist directly at his stomach, the blow landing with devastating force. The impact bent Ares at the waist as his face contorted in pure agony, and he immediately vomited a mouthful of saliva mixed with the remnants of his dinner.

He sank to his knees as he folded his arms over his stomach, his mind unable to grasp the level of pain he was going through. Vael hadn't pulled back his punch even slightly, this was a full-force attack meant to cause maximum damage. Tears filled his eyes as he began to wonder why Vael was treating him this way. Where had he gone wrong? What had he done to deserve this?

His thoughts turned darker as he realized how empty the field was, how isolated they were. Was Vael really going to kill him here? This was his second life, his second chance after going through a completely shitty first existence. He couldn't die again, not like this, not when he was just six years old and hadn't achieved anything meaningful in either of his lives.

The unfairness of it all made him want to scream.

Vael immediately broke out into another burst of laughter, although shorter than the first but no less cruel. "You must be wondering why, right? Why I'm doing this to you, why I'm torturing you like this?" His voice carried a mocking tone that cut deeper than any blade. "I'm sorry, but you're not going to get to find that out. You, the sixteenth son, nothing but trash, you treated me in a rude manner. And why? Because of the potential that you supposedly got from your appraisal, you now feel important and above your station."

Vael's grin widened, showing teeth that seemed too sharp in the darkness. "Well, remember this before you die: you're a second-year student, and I'm a final year in this Cradle. I deserve respect based on seniority alone, and you have crossed Vael. So now you have to pay the ultimate price for your arrogance."

Tears immediately streamed from Ares' face as Vael had just confirmed his worst fears, he was going to die here tonight, alone and forgotten. After dying uselessly in his first life, was he going to suffer the same pathetic fate in this life too?

Another line of thought immediately crossed his mind, cutting through the pain and fear like a knife. "I was weak, and this is the price I pay for being weak. I decided to take things safe, seeing as I was the sixteenth son there was no real pressure on me to excel. But ever since my appraisal, it all changed, and I still didn't adapt properly."

The self-hatred was almost as painful as Vael's attacks. "I don't want to die. I feel disgusted at myself for being this weak, for not seeing this coming. Please, someone, anyone, help me."

But the training field remained empty except for the two of them.

Vael turned and began to repeatedly kick Ares in the stomach, each blow delivered with methodical precision as he maniacally laughed. The sound of his laughter mixed with the rain created a symphony of cruelty. By this time, Ares had vomited a lot of saliva and quite a bit of blood, his body beginning to shut down from the trauma.

Then, suddenly, everything changed.

There was another presence felt in the area, powerful and yet controlled. Ares had almost passed out from the beating, but even in his dazed state, he could feel this new energy. Vael definitely felt it too, because his attacks stopped immediately.

He was at the low level of advanced rank now, and his training had taught him to discern a person's mana rank by their presence. What he was sensing was unmistakably an Expert rank fighter, middle stage at the very least. In their fourth year, the children were taught extensively about discerning power levels, and this knowledge was now screaming danger signals in his mind.

Sweat could instantly be seen forming on his forehead despite the cool rain. He turned around frantically, trying to pinpoint the newcomer's exact location, his earlier confidence evaporating like morning mist.

When he finally saw her, his world turned upside down.

This was someone he had never suspected in the least would possess this level of power, someone who was always quiet, unassuming, practically invisible. It was his personal maid, Elyra, and the level of killing intent leaking from her presence had completely overpowered his own aura like a candle flame being snuffed out by a hurricane.

She stood at the edge of the training field, her usually meek demeanor replaced by something far more dangerous.

Vael was now face to face with a superior strength, and that strength was seeming to be a very serious problem in the execution of his carefully planned task. His hands began to shake as he realized just how bad the situation was becoming.

Would the hunter now suddenly become the hunted?

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A/N – Was it fire or mid? Don't just vanish—powerstone, comment, review. Let me feel your presence.