The Essence Flow-Chapter 144: Behind The Mask

The Essence Flow-Chapter 144: Behind The Mask

The room stirred to life, chairs scraping, bags slung over shoulders, the low murmur of anticipation threading through the group.
As they filed into the hall, Towan fell into step beside Elliot, nudging him with an elbow.
"What do you think we’re gonna do?"
His voice was a conspiratorial half-whisper, but his grin was all energy, barely contained.
Elliot didn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking ahead to where Khalvar and Kaelin led the way. Then, with a faint smirk:
"Probably some sparring."
Towan’s grin widened.
"About time, huh? Last week was real boring with just theoretical stuff."
He rolled his shoulders, already loosening up, as if he could feel the phantom ache of a good fight waiting for him.
Elliot chuckled.
"Try not to break anything this time."
The combat training area hummed with low chatter as the three classes gathered, their collective energy thickening the air. Towan’s eyes swept across the unfamiliar faces, his brow quirking.
"Who are these?"
"Other classes,"
Elliot replied, his gaze already locking onto a familiar shock of blue hair.
Jyn.
Of course he’d be here—poised at the edge of his group like a blade half-drawn.
Sylra folded her arms, her voice matter-of-fact.
"We were divided based on our theoretical and practical exam scores, plus the flag test."
She tilted her head toward their own classmates.
"We’re all together because we collected a similar number of flags."
Elliot’s fingers tapped absently against his thigh.
"What about Jyn? Didn’t he get around ten?"
The memory of their clash crackled at the edges of his mind—lightning meeting resolve.
Sylra snorted.
"Oh, he
asked
to be placed elsewhere. Said he ‘can’t stand commoners.’"
She rolled her eyes, though her smirk held a flicker of fondness.
"Really, he was just mad about losing to Elliot."
Towan blinked.
"How do you
know
that?"
"We’ve known each other since we were little."
Sylra shrugged, but there was a lightness to her tone now, something almost nostalgic.
"We talk every so often."
Towan opened his mouth—no doubt to pry further—but a sharp whistle from Professor Khalvar cut through the noise.
The training arena hummed with anticipation as Professor Khalvar arranged a series of rounded platforms in the center. The metallic clank of their placement echoed through the space as students from all three classes formed a loose semicircle. Khalvar straightened, dusting his hands before addressing the crowd.
"Alright everyone,"
his voice carried effortlessly across the room, instantly silencing murmurs. He moved to stand between Professors Kaerin and Kaen, each radiating quiet authority over their respective classes.
"This is how it's going to work."
Khalvar's gaze swept across the assembled students.
"One of you will be chosen as defender. Another will wear a mask and assume the role of attacker - pure offense. The challenge?"
A deliberate pause.
"We'll see how well our defender reacts against completely unknown aggression."
A ripple of understanding passed through the group. Alira's eyes lit up with realization.
"Ohh, so we can't rely on our previous knowledge about classmates to defend!"
Her voice rang clear in the sudden quiet.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; any instances of this story on Amazon.
"That's interesting,"
Rellie murmured, fingers absently tracing the hilt of her practice weapon. Beside her, Len gave a silent nod of agreement, his usual stoic expression betraying a flicker of anticipation.
Towan's attention drifted to the other groups, where notable figures stood out like pieces on a strategy board - Kirvant's heir with their trademark poise, Jyn's simmering intensity, Ryn's calculating gaze, and Sera's relaxed but ready stance. Each represented a potential challenge, a fact not lost on the main class.
Sylra edged closer to her teammates, her voice dropping to a strategic whisper.
"We need to be careful here."
"Why?"
Towan asked, though his grip unconsciously tightened
Sylra's eyes narrowed slightly as she observed their competition.
"We're part of the main class. That makes us the prime targets. Every student out there will be looking to take us down and claim our spot."
A slow, competitive grin spread across Towan's face, his body thrumming with barely contained energy.
"Let's see them try."
The challenge in his voice matched the fire in his eyes as he sized up their opponents, already mentally preparing for the battles to come.
Kaelin strode forward with a tall rack of blank white masks, their smooth surfaces gleaming under the training arena's lights.
"Everyone. Grab one."
Each mask hummed faintly with embedded essentia runes—pale blue glyphs that pulsed like slow breaths along the edges. As Elliot took his, the ceramic felt strangely warm against his palms, the runes reacting to his touch.
"This will mask your aura,"
Kaelin explained, her voice cutting through the murmurs.
"Making you completely unrecognizable."
Elliot turned his mask over in his hands, fingers tracing the intricate runework. His eyebrows lifted slightly.
"This is top-tier tech."
The craftsmanship was military-grade, far beyond standard academy equipment.
"Yeah! How do I look?"
A masked figure leaned into Elliot's space, voice muffled but brimming with familiar energy. The mask's empty eye-holes gave nothing away, but that boisterous tone could only belong to—
"Wow,"
Elliot admitted, genuine surprise coloring his voice.
"I actually can't tell it's you."
The mask's magic worked flawlessly—even Towan's usual crackling aura of restless energy was completely muted.
Khalvar's voice boomed across the arena:
"The chosen fighters will feel their mask vibrate. Once you're on the platform, we'll announce who must reveal themselves."
Within moments, the training hall had transformed into a sea of identical white voids—faceless, anonymous, the air thick with anticipation. Then—
Buzz.
Buzz.
Two masks pulsed with activation. The chosen fighters stepped onto the platform—one tall and broad-shouldered, the other petite and wiry. They stood motionless, their blank masks giving no hint of identity, no clue to their fighting styles. The only sound was the faint hum of the essentia runes and the collective held breath of the watching students.
"You."
Kaelin's finger cut through the air, pointing at one of the masked figures on the platform.
"Take your mask off."
A beat of silence. Then—slow, hesitant fingers reached up to the blank white surface. The removal wasn't swift like a fighter's motion, but deliberate, almost reluctant. The mask came away to reveal Rellie's pale face, her lips pressed into a thin line. The new dagger in her hand caught the light as it trembled slightly.
(I'm fucked.)
The thought struck like a hammer blow. Her knuckles whitened around the dagger's hilt.
In the crowd, Towan's masked head tilted.
"That's... unlucky."
His voice carried the weight of unspoken understanding—everyone knew Rellie couldn't channel essential, and that her new dagger might as well have been a kitchen knife in her inexperienced hands.
Beside him, Len's hands flew to her mouth, fingers pressing against her lips as if physically holding back her concern.
"Let's hope everything goes well,"
she whispered, the words muffled by her palms.
A calm voice cut through the tension. Professor Kaen stepped forward, his robes whispering against the floor.
"Do not worry."
His steady gaze locked onto Rellie.
"If something goes wrong, or if there's a risk of injury..."
A meaningful pause.
"We'll intervene."
The reassurance did little to ease the stiffness in Rellie's shoulders as she faced her still-masked opponent. The blank white face stared back, unreadable and ominous.
(Out of all people... WHY HER?)
The thought burned through Ryn's mind as he stood frozen behind his featureless mask. Through the narrow eye slits, he could see Rellie's crimson eyes - wide, uncertain - exactly as they'd been during their flag test encounter. The memory flashed unbidden

Chapter 144: Behind The Mask