Shadow Being System

As the cat appeared in front of the portal and let out a soft, echoing meow, a wave of confusion swept through the hall. Some of the heretics exchanged bewildered glances, murmuring under their breaths.

"Is this... what we summoned?" one of them whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Another scoffed aloud, his face twisted in frustration. "What the hell is a cat doing here?"

But while the heretics muttered and questioned, the King of Heretics remained silent. His expression shifted from one of hardened resolve to utter reverence. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees, bowing deeply before the small, shadowy creature. The others in the hall paused, staring at their king with wide eyes.

And, as if on cue, they too fell to their knees, heads bowed, their confusion giving way to a shared, overwhelming sense of dread.

The king slowly raised his head, his voice trembling with reverence as he spoke. "Welcome back, Master."

The cat didn't reply. Its cold, emotionless gaze scanned the room, and then, with a single fluid movement, it leaped toward the throne.

The leap defied the bounds of an ordinary cat, covering a distance that no small creature should manage. It was graceful, almost too smooth, its black form blurring for a split second as it arced through the air and landed squarely on the large throne.

For a moment, the sight of the small creature perched on such a massive throne might have looked almost cute, absurd even. But there was nothing cute in the aura the cat exuded. It was thick and menacing, heavy enough to make every heretic in the hall struggle for breath. The very air around them seemed to warp, bending under the weight of an unseen force.

The king looked up at the cat, his body visibly trembling, unable to look away despite the terror twisting his insides. The cat's gaze was cold, its eyes piercing with an intensity that seemed to burrow into his soul. When it finally spoke, its voice was a low, menacing growl that filled the hall, a voice that had no business coming from a creature of its size.

"Let's begin."

---

The next day dawned bright and clear over Military Academy 4. The grounds were bustling with the usual morning routines—cadets making their way to early training sessions, the hum of conversation in the air, and the faint clang of weights being lifted in the distance.

Outside the school clinic, a lone boy stretched, arms extending high as he released a massive yawn. He smoothed his rumpled uniform, eyes barely open, looking as though he had just crawled out of bed. Glancing up, he spotted two boys approaching from the main building: one with a shock of bright red hair and the other with deep green hair. He waved, his hand lazy and unhurried.

The boys returned the gesture, the red-haired one breaking into a grin as they neared. William met them halfway, his steps light and relaxed, his mind still a bit foggy from the morning haze. He glanced at Liam, noting with satisfaction that there wasn't a single scratch on him.

"Glad to see you in one piece, Liam," William said, his voice carrying a hint of humor.

Liam rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, thanks to you."

With a hand over his stomach, William let out a groan. "I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."

The trio turned, heading toward the cafeteria, their banter filling the air as they walked. They grabbed their plates, piled with food, and found a table near the window. Sunlight streamed through, casting a warm glow over their spot. William dug into his food without a second thought, while Liam and Gavin settled in, a comfortable silence falling over them.

Finally, Gavin cleared his throat, glancing between them.

"Uh… guys," Gavin started, his face a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry I wasn't there with you two when you fought the bullies. I should've been there."

William waved his hand dismissively, his mouth full as he mumbled, "It's not your fault, Gavin ."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Liam snorted, shaking his head with a smirk. "Yeah, even if you had been there, you'd have just gotten your ass kicked."

Gavin 's face broke into a grin, chuckling along with them. William swallowed and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. Then he turned to Liam, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"So, Liam," he asked, "what happened after I passed out?"

Liam took a slow sip of his drink, pausing before answering. "After you deactivated that artifact, I got a little bit of my soul essence back. Just enough to keep me conscious, but nowhere near enough to stand." He shook his head, remembering the struggle. "Then Gavin showed up. He's the one who dragged you to the school clinic."

William nodded, a faint smile on his face. "Oh, so it was Gavin, huh?" He turned his attention to Gavin . "What about Billy and the rest of the bullies? Did anything happen to them?"

Gavin shrugged. "I have no clue. I just left them there in the alleyway. Figured the rain might clean up some of the mess."

William cursed under his breath, shaking his head. "Those bastards… they'll just crawl right back and cause trouble again."

After finishing their meal, William, Liam, and Gavin made their way to class, the usual bustle of students filling the hallways. They took their seats as Mr. John, their teacher, began his lecture, his voice echoing through the classroom.

"Today," Mr. John started, "we're covering one of the most devastating periods in human history: the war between humans and beasts." His tone was somber, commanding the students' full attention. "Now, who can tell me the tier of the B10 members?"

The students exchanged puzzled glances, unsure why he'd ask something so obvious. After all, the B10 members were legends, known to be the strongest fighters of their time. Their tier had to be the highest, which was tier 8.

One confident student stood up, hands in pockets, and answered, "Tier 8."

Mr. John shook his head. "Wrong."

A ripple of confusion spread through the room. Students glanced at each other, baffled. How could that be wrong? The B10 were practically myths—they were untouchable. What else could they be but tier 8?

Seeing the confusion etched on their faces, Mr. John continued, "Actually, the B10 are all tier 7."

Shock blanketed the room. Murmurs broke out among the students, some whispering to each other in disbelief. Gavin leaned over to William, his eyebrows raised. "Tier 7? That doesn't make sense… does it?"

The student who had answered, still standing, raised his hand again. "But sir, if the strongest warriors were in tier 7, then why does tier 8 even exist?"

Mr. John paused, his face shadowed by a look of horror. His voice dropped to a low, serious tone. "Because there was something stronger than the B10 during the war."

The room went silent, a tension settling over the students as they took in the implications. Something… stronger than the B10? The idea seemed impossible, terrifying. William felt a chill run down his spine, as if Mr. John's words had cast a cold shadow over the entire room.

The teacher continued, his voice carrying the weight of old fears. "There was only one tier 8 being… the leader of the beasts. It took dozens of tier 7 fighters just to bring it down."

The class erupted in shocked gasps and exclamations. Dozens? How could one creature demand that much power to defeat? Gavin 's eyes were wide, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.

One curious boy raised his hand, his tone almost excited. "What did it look like, sir? I bet it was massive and terrifying."

Mr. John shook his head, surprising everyone once more. "No… it wasn't big or frightening in the way you're thinking." He took a breath before adding, "In fact, it was… a cat."

The entire room fell silent again, the revelation hanging in the air. Some students blinked, their expressions shifting from fear to disbelief. A cat?