The Extra Wants Control

A flurry of crimson scales and blonde hair materialized beside Draven. It was Moira, her fiery temper burning brighter than the setting sun. News of the brawl had reached her ears, and she was not pleased.

"Draven!" she roared, her voice cracking with barely contained fury. "How can you let this go? It's an insult to the entire Dragon race! When Axl hears of this…"

Draven cut her off with a sigh. "Moira, who's the idiot who picked a fight with a blessed, the number one student at that?" He gestured towards Azrael, who stood looking sheepish despite his bloody knuckles.

"You've seen what the Top 6 can do, Moira. Remember the trials? This one here, in all his wisdom, just had to poke the bear. But if you want to go on a suicide mission…" He trailed off, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Just know you won't have my support."

"I don't need your lectures on strength, coward!" Moira spat, her anger reaching a boiling point. "I asked if you had a plan! We'll fight those humans and beasts together! A dragon never backs down from a challenge!"

Draven stared at her, his expression unreadable. "I don't," he finally said, his voice flat.

"Then Axl will hear of this and you'll answer to him!" Moira threatened, turning to the rest of the dragon students. "Who's with me? We'll show these creatures what happens when they mess with dragons!"

Draven watched as the other dragons hesitated. A silent conversation played out in their eyes. Some flickered between Moira's fiery defiance and Draven's stoic calm. Others glanced at Azrael, the raw power he displayed still fresh in their minds. Ultimately, everyone one stepped forward to join Moira.

A lone sigh escaped Draven's lips. "Sometimes," he thought, "I wish I wasn't a dragon. These people are so… unreasonable. All I wanted was to find Neveah, as per His Amazing Highness's orders. Now I'm stuck in the middle of a brawl over a tomb that wouldn't hold a candle to our own hoards. These Dragons are swimming in wealth, and yet they fight for… more?"

A sense of futility settled over him. This whole situation was ridiculous and he was tired of it.

********************

The defectors from Draven's group, led by the fiery Moira, stomped away from the tense scene, their tails swishing in irritation. Draven remained, a lone sentinel beside the unconscious Carson. A sigh escaped his lips, a sound that resonated with the exhaustion settling over the entire tomb site.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the magnificent tomb, a different kind of gathering took place. Humans, drawn together by a shared ancestry and a dash of opportunism, had clustered around Azrael and Vera. Azrael, sporting a replacement uniform procured from a helpful classmate, listened grimly as he was filled in on the situation. Disappointment gnawed at him.

He had expected better from his own kind, especially the pompous nobles who started this whole mess.

Vera, ever the pragmatist, stepped in before the situation escalated further. Her lineage, the revered Pope's blood, granted her a certain level of untouchability. A scolding from her echoed through the gathering, a subtle reminder of her power. The human nobles, though frustrated, could only simmer in silence.

Word of the commotion had reached Vera's club, and its members arrived, bolstering her group. Others, not part of the club but drawn to the aura of strength emanating from Azrael, also gravitated towards them. After all, when things went south, having a "blessed" on your side wasn't a bad idea.

The remaining students, divided not just by race, but by a deeper sense of distrust, had retreated to their respective corners. Even friendships seemed to dissolve in the face of potential conflict. The once 'unified' student body had fractured, each fragment seeking solace and strength within their own racial groups.

*************

As if summoned by the mounting tension, students began streaming in, a silent river of faces drawn towards their respective racial groups. The headcount climbed steadily, reaching a about 40,000 with some notable absences - Neveah, Axl, Kim, Astrid, Lara, and Topaz, among others.

The colossal tomb pulsed with near-completed energy, a stark contrast to the fracturing student body. Just as the final magical flourish completed the tomb's construction, Kim and Astrid materialized, swept away by their respective races and briefed on the brewing conflict.

Adding another layer to the tense situation was the arrival of the Vampire gang, another arrogant group led by none other than Enia Mordred, the youngest of the prestigious Mordred Clan. His lineage automatically placed him in the position of leader, the other vampires either lacking eligible children or being past their prime.

Enia, the same vampire who had previously sought to belittle Neveah and Lara in a pitiful attempt to assert dominance, now puffed with misplaced pride. He still clung to the delusion that Neveah was an early bloomer destined for stagnation, conveniently claiming his own laziness which had led to low assessment scores.

Enia, blinded by arrogance, believed himself superior despite the smaller vampire population compared to the other races.

He thought that he is superior to everyone in the academy and if the Vampires had a spot for a blessed it would definitely be him without doubt.

************

A tense calm settled over a secluded corner of the tomb site. Here, under the watchful gaze of the newly formed structure, a makeshift council had gathered. Azrael, his face etched with concern, sat opposite Kim, who exuded an air of nonchalance bordering on boredom. Astrid, ever the diplomat, sat beside Azrael, her eyes flitting between the other participants.

Representing the other races were their impromptu leaders. Moira, the fiery dragon , bristled with barely concealed resentment towards Azrael. A duel was what she truly craved, a chance to prove her strength and wash away the sting of Carson's shame. However, logic held her back.

She wasn't certain of victory, and the prospect of the other races ganging up on the dragons if they initiated a fight was a deterrent. There was also Enia, who just wanted to fight but didn't say anything he silently observed and he would go with whatever the popular decision was.

Tyler, the elven leader, tapped his foot impatiently. He cared little for the source of the tension, only for a swift resolution. Whether peace or war, as long as the process was expedited, he was content. The longer the students remained in this volatile state, the higher the risk of an accidental spark igniting the tinderbox.

Azrael, his voice breaking the uncomfortable silence, took the initiative. "We can't allow this tension to escalate further," he said, his gaze sweeping over the others. "Fighting amongst ourselves will only weaken us all."

Moira snorted. "Easy for you to say, blessed human. You won't be the ones facing the consequences if this tomb holds something of value. If we let another race claim it then.."

Astrid, sensing the rising hostility, interjected before Azrael could respond. "Moira, regardless of the contents, a fight will only breed further animosity. We need to find a way to work together, explore this tomb as a united front."

Kim, finally breaking his silence, shrugged. "Fine by me. Less drama, quicker results."

Tyler nodded curtly. "Agreed. Time is of the essence. Let's explore, find out what lies within this tomb, and then we can part ways, if we must."

Moira remained silent, a scowl etched on her face. While she wouldn't openly defy the consensus, her resentment simmered beneath the surface. Nevertheless, the council had reached a fragile agreement. The students wouldn't fight, at least not for now. Instead, they would venture into the tomb together, a tense alliance forged in the face of potential danger.

Azrael, relieved to have avoided immediate fight, felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, they could overcome their differences and navigate this challenge as a single, albeit fractured, unit.

**********

A stunned silence gripped the clearing. Where moments ago a throng of students stood, only the imposing blue tomb remained. The very instructors who'd monitored the tense student interactions were left speechless, their gazes flitting across the empty space, searching for any sign of the vanished crowd.

Tension had given way to a chilling emptiness. The air crackled with a mix of confusion and dread. In the center of the clearing, the blue dragon guardian, previously dismissed as a ceremonial ornament, stood with an air of quiet power. His reptilian eyes, once flickering faintly, now burned with an intensity that sent shivers down the instructors' spines.

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the clearing. "Don't fret so," the dragon boomed, his voice echoing in the sudden stillness. "The children are merely… relocating." His gaze, sharp and intelligent, swept over the stunned instructors, lingering for a moment in a specific direction. This subtle shift sent a jolt of fear through them.

"A nine-star…" a wizened Elven instructor stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "Teleportation at this scale… and even those beyond the forest?"

"Indeed," the dragon conceded, a hint of amusement flickering in his slitted reptilian eyes. "A minor display for your entertainment. No permanent harm will come to them, I assure you. Consider this a… trial. A test of their strength, and more importantly, the fragile 'peace' they managed to forge. You see I've been watching and got a rough idea."

He gestured towards the tomb. "Within these walls lies my inheritance. And I must say, younglings of this era, you've impressed me. No squabbling, no bloodshed in racial wars. Quite the feat. Now," he continued, his voice fading into a playful chuckle, "let's see how well this childrens peace holds under pressure."

With a final wink, the dragon shimmered out of existence, leaving the instructors speechless. Eliana, the princess, broke the stunned silence first.

"Well, shit," she muttered, her voice heavy with disbelief.

If Neveah, were here, he'd undoubtedly blame this whole thing on Azrael and his 'protagonist luck.' A harmless tomb had just transformed into a training ground overseen by a terrifyingly powerful guardian. Maybe wherever he was he was cussing at Azrael.