Chapter 99: The Familiar Bonding-2.

"Oh, it’s you guys," Zankeil said, his hand running through his scruffy beard. His robe looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks, and his wild hair stuck out like a nest. "Has a year already passed?"

"Yes, Sir Zankeil," Illiana replied with a respectful bow, followed by the other professors.

Zankeil might have seemed strange and scatterbrained, but he was still an respected elder—strong, experienced, and far from ordinary.

"Is that Illiana I hear?" came a second voice from inside.

Out stepped an old lady, walking slowly with a cane. Her black and white hair was tied in a simple braid, and her eyes were sharp behind thin spectacles.

"Yes, Madam Neila," Illiana responded, bowing again.

Both elders looked over the students, scanning them with interest. Their gazes soon stopped at the main cast, and their expressions shifted.

"Oho... look at this lot," Zankeil said, a twinkle forming in his eye. "Looks like the academy picked up some real monsters this year."

But then, as Zankeil’s eyes moved toward Azhriel and he stopped.

His gaze locked in him like a hawk.

Silence followed for a moment.

Zankeil’s posture changed, his face becoming still and unreadable. His brows drew together slowly, as if deep in thought.

Then—

Tap.

In an instant, he disappeared from where he stood.

Swirl—

Before anyone could blink, he was standing right in front of Azhriel. The snow haired boy barely had the time to react, his eyes narrowing slightly in surprise.

Zankeil’s foot tapped once on the ground.

Click.

A transparent barrier shimmered into place around them—cutting them off from the rest.

Zankeil’s face turned serious, very unlike his usual scattered self.

"Boy," he said, his voice suddenly much deeper and stronger, "who are you?"

Azhriel met his gaze calmly. "A normal student."

Zankeil’s eye twitched.

"Heh. If you’re a normal student, then I’m a sexy model."

His tone turned sarcastic, a dry smile flickering over his lips, as he said the words that weren’t quite appropriate for an elder to say atleast.

"Try again."

"Haa..." Azhriel let out a breath. "What are you trying to ask, sir?"

Zankeil’s mock smile faded. He placed his hands behind his back, his voice steady.

"I’m asking... what has the world done to you, child, that you carry such deep rage and hatred in your heart?"

Azhriel didn’t respond at first.

His gaze darkened slightly. The cold returned to his eyes, like winter wind behind a glass window.

He hated it.

He hated when people like him and Archons, tried to look into him—into the parts he’d buried deep down.

But he couldn’t hide everything, in the academy.

He couldn’t use nullification forever and hide his rank from the rest. That’s why from quite some time, he had openly started to show his rank and aura.

Still, he kept his tone sharp and distant.

"What does it matter to you?" he said. "What I carry in my heart has nothing to do with anyone."

"It does matter," Zankeil said firmly, not backing down. "Because what if, what’s inside you isn’t human? What if it’s something darker—demon, spirit, or something worse? Are you even human at all?"

Azhriel blinked once.

’What the hell is he talking about now?’ he thought, a little annoyed.

"I’m human," Azhriel said clearly.

Zankeil stared at him for a long moment.

"Maybe... but your mana doesn’t feel like it. It’s just too much pure. Not like the light or holy mana—but pure in a way that’s refined, amd ancient almost like the nature."

He glanced briefly at Raymond and Samuel, who stood off to the side with confused faces, staring at them.

"Those two also have absurdly pure mana," Zankeil continued. "But you... yours is different. Too calm. Too cold. It reminds me of something I haven’t seen in decades."

Just then outsidethe sound barrier, someone cleared their throat.

"Um, Professor Illiana?" one of the other teachers spoke up—a man with black hair, glasses, and a composed expression. "Aren’t we getting a bit late for the bonding ritual?"

"You’re right, Professor Luther," Illiana nodded, turning toward Neila. "Madam Neila, we should begin the preparations."

Neila gave a small nod.

"Yes, of course. Come, come, students! Follow us—we don’t have all day. Familiars don’t wait forever!"

Zankeil sighed listening to them from inside.

"Well, looks like we’ll have to continue this talk another time, boy." He looked once more at Azhriel, eyes narrowing. "But remember—don’t lose yourself. You’ve got a storm inside you, and storms don’t care who they destroy."

Then with a flick of his finger, the sound barrier around them popped and vanished.

Zankeil turned and walked back toward the group, his strange aura returning to its usual chaotic self as if nothing had happened.

Azhriel stood still for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before finally moving to follow the others.

"Why did he do that?" Sydelle asked as she walked up beside Azhriel, her head tilted slightly with curiosity.

"I don’t know," Azhriel replied, glancing at her. "But I get the feeling he’s not all there in the head."

"Hoh? Talking bad about the great elder already?" Sydelle teased, pretending to be shocked as she placed a hand over her mouth.

"Elder or not, staring into people like that is just plain annoying," Azhriel muttered under his breath, his voice too low to catch.

"What was that?" Sydelle asked, leaning in a bit closer.

"Nothing," he said quickly. Then he straightened his back and added, "Good luck with your bonding."

Sydelle smiled a little. "You too."

*******

The students walked toward the back of the hut, only to find an empty clearing.

There were a few scattered trees, but no altar, no markings—nothing that looked like it could be used for a magical ritual.

"Uh... where’s the ritual supposed to happen?" one student asked his friend.

"How should I know? This is my first time too," the other boy replied with a shrug.

"Haha, don’t be so impatient, little ones," Zankeil chuckled, stroking his long white beard.

With slow steps, the old man moved to the center of the open space. Then, lifting his hand, he began to chant.

"@$%$€..."

Strange, ancient words rolled off his tongue—ones that no one could understand maybe except a certain transmigrator.

But the moment they left his mouth, something changed.

The air around them shifted.

The ground trembled lightly. Mana in the area began to pulse and swirl, as though answering the old man’s call.

Everyone froze.

Even the professors—Illiana and the others—tensed up. Tiny goosebumps ran across their skin.

Azhriel’s eyes narrowed. The hairs on his arms stood up.

’Such pressure...’

"Damn," said one of the class professors, blinking at the air now shimmering with magical energy. "No matter how many times I see this, it always hits hard."

"True," Illiana agreed quietly. "It never stops feeling... otherworldly."

Just then, space in front of them rippled like a curtain made of water.

And then—like someone had pulled that curtain aside—it opened.

A soft light glowed from within the rift, casting a gentle glow over the clearing.

Zankeil turned to the students and smiled.

"Come in, children," he said with a wink. "You’re about to see a whole new world."

Then, without waiting, he stepped through the rift and vanished.

The students stepped through the rippling space one after another, some with excited eyes, others with anxious hearts.

Azhriel was among them, quiet as always, yet even he froze for a moment.

His breath hitched. His eyes widened.

"Beautiful..."

It didn’t matter who said it first. That thought echoed in everyone’s mind.

What lay before them was like a scene from a fairytale. A vast open field stretched out under a soft golden sky.

A gentle river flowed nearby, its waters sparkling like liquid light. Flowers of strange colors bloomed all over, and the wind carried a sweet scent that calmed the heart.

And all around... creatures. Familiars of every kind. Some floated like glowing lanterns, others ran in packs or flew through the air.

Foxes with crystal fur, birds with wings of flame, wolves made of mist and shadow, rabbits with shining antlers.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of them.

But all of it was small compared to the tree.

No, calling it a tree felt too simple.

It was the tree.

Massive, towering high above everything, its trunk wider than a castle tower, bark etched with ancient glowing patterns.

Its branches stretched far across the sky, leaves shining with a soft silvery light, like stars woven into its limbs. It felt alive, watching them quietly.

The world here wasn’t normal. The air itself buzzed with gentle magic, and the light had a kind warmth that couldn’t be found anywhere else.

Azhriel said nothing. He just stared at the world before him.

As they all looked at the beautiful forest, a smooth bubbly voice broke them, out of their reverie.

"Oh, you all are here."