The wind howled past as Eo cut through the depths of the ocean, moving with a speed unnatural even for the creatures of the abyss. His form blurred, slipping through currents and pressure shifts without resistance. Every undulation of his body propelled him forward, each motion refined through instinct and efficiency. The weight of the deep lessened as he ascended, the pressure thinning, the environment changing.

  Then, as he neared the surface, something shifted.

  His senses twitched. A disturbance—faint yet undeniable—lingered in the water. It was not a natural current nor the mere presence of sea life. It was something else. Something subtle, deliberate. Magic.

  Eo slowed his ascent, his mind sharpening as he extended his perception outward. There, woven into the faint particles of the air, he detected lingering traces of magic—a presence unlike the raw, chaotic forces of the abyss. This was structured, intentional. He had encountered this kind of magic before. Human magic.

  A spark of curiosity ignited within him.

  He breached the water’s surface without hesitation, droplets cascading off his form as he shot toward the distant shoreline. His body adapted instantly, shifting from aquatic efficiency to aerial precision. The cool night air wrapped around him, and his senses expanded. His refined nerve network processed everything at once—the rustling leaves, the distant murmurs of nocturnal creatures, the subtle temperature differences in the terrain.

  And yet, that feeling of something amiss remained.

  Eo’s gaze locked onto the direction of the Magical Academy. That was his destination. That was where he had first observed structured knowledge, a place where information was stored, categorized, and understood by humans. It was also where he had first encountered Frid and the others.

  Would they still be there?

  Would they react the same as before?

  His mind cycled through probabilities. Humans were unpredictable. Their actions were shaped by emotions, beliefs, and unknown motivations. They sought power yet feared what they could not control. They hunted the strong yet revered those beyond their reach. Their logic was both flawed and fascinating.

  Eo propelled himself forward, his speed increasing as he cut across the land. His body adjusted, absorbing the energy in the air, fueling his acceleration. He tested his enhanced system, noting how his core distributed energy more effectively than before. His internal structure had evolved—yet something still felt incomplete.

  His thoughts returned to formations.

  The traces of magic he sensed earlier had been arranged. There had been structure. A pattern. It was different from the chaotic flow of raw magic. He had seen humans create circles, lines, and symbols before, using them to control energy in ways that fascinated him. Could such formations be integrated into his body? Carved into his form like a natural extension of his circuits?

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  The thought intrigued him. But first, he needed to reach the Academy.

  As he neared the forested outskirts of the Magical Academy, the disturbance in the air grew stronger. He adjusted his movement, slowing just enough to observe without revealing himself. The night was still, yet there was something deliberate in the quiet.

  Something was waiting for him.

  Eo’s eyes narrowed. His instincts sharpened. The humans had learned. They were expecting him.

  And that only made him more curious.

  Eo remained motionless, his presence seamlessly woven into the fabric of the world. His body no longer disrupted the flow of magic, nor did it create ripples in the air. He was not hiding—he had simply ceased to be noticed, like a passing shadow in the wind.

  From his vantage point, he observed the humans standing near the treeline. Four of them. He recognized three from his previous encounter—Thorne, Aelith, and Caelum. But the fourth was unfamiliar.

  An old human.

  Despite his aged frame and diminished vitality, there was something... potent about him. His body carried the weight of years, yet his aura did not match his frail form. A contradiction. His presence lacked the raw energy of youth, but it was refined, sharpened into something controlled. Like a blade tempered through time, no longer needing to flaunt its edge to be deadly.

  Eo focused on him. The old human was working on something. His hands moved with practiced precision, inscribing symbols onto the ground. The markings pulsed faintly, forming a structure—a formation. Not unlike the sigils Eo had seen in the underground chamber, yet different. More refined.

  And at its center lay blood.

  A single drop, dark and rich, carried an unnatural resonance. It did not behave like ordinary human blood. It pulsed. It vibrated with something beyond the physical. A link? A command? A lure?

  Eo's curiosity stirred.

  The others stood ready. Aelith and Thorne exchanged words in hushed tones, their postures firm yet holding a subtle tension. Caelum remained silent, his gaze steady. The old human continued his work, his focus unwavering.

  And then there was Frid.

  He stood slightly apart, whispering into the empty air. His voice was calm, almost gentle, as if speaking to something unseen. Yet his body remained poised, as if waiting for an answer that would never come.

  They were preparing for something.

  For him.

  Eo did not act. Not yet.

  Let them set their trap.

  He would watch. He would learn. And when the time came, he would decide how this game would play out.

  The blood at the center of the formation held his attention. It was subtle at first, but the more he observed, the more unnatural it seemed. It pulsed—not with the simple rhythm of life, but with something deeper, something laced with intent. It was not merely spilled blood. It was active.

  Eo’s curiosity stirred.

  He had only recently created Elemental Blood—a structure born from his own evolution, a medium that allowed energy to flow through his body with precision. It was a crucial development, something he had refined through observation and understanding of organic systems.

  Yet now, before him, lay a drop of blood that did not behave as it should.

  Human blood, in his experience, was a mixture of organic compounds, cells, and iron-rich fluid meant to transport oxygen. It was a biological necessity, carrying nutrients and sustaining the body. When spilled, it would eventually dry, coagulate, and decay.

  But this blood...

  It did not dry. It did not fade into the earth like ordinary human blood. Instead, it resonated, as though something within it refused to be absorbed by the world.

  It responded to the formation around it, linking itself to the intricate symbols drawn by the old human’s hand. Was it a key? A catalyst?

  Eo analyzed the faint tremors in the surrounding magic. The blood was influencing the energy around it, subtly guiding the formation’s function.

  Had they altered its properties?

  Had they refined it through some human method unknown to him?

  A slow realization crept into his mind.

  The humans—these creatures bound by their limited forms—had discovered something about blood that even he had not yet explored fully.

  And that, more than anything, fascinated him.