The Transmigrated Author

[Pinnacle Academy, Stadium 1 - Arena A: Inner Section Hallway]

Morwen paced the deserted inner hallways of the main arena, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

The crowds were long gone, the cheers and excitement of Louise and Jan's battle added...

His watch scanned the environment, analyzing the structure of the stadium, noting security weaknesses, and mapping complex details onto the watch's display.

click!

With a decisive click, he terminated the scan and contacted Kayn.

Ring...

Kayn answered right away.

"Evening, Master," Kayn's voice crackled through the earpiece. "What can I do for you?"

Morwen spoke with confidence, his eyes focused on the displayed map on his watch.

"I've completed the initial scans of the arena's inner layers. Transmit potential waypoints for mana insertion." He paused. "And is Franz up to date with the internal mapping? I'll need the layout as accurate as possible."

"..."

A startled sound from Kayn's end made Morwen roll his eyes inwardly and he knew something was up.

"Is there something wrong Kayn?" Morwen asked with a concerned voice.

...

...

"Apologies, master. There seems to be another bandit intrusion. Give me a moment –"

Kayn's voice cut off abruptly, replaced by the sounds of a scuffle. Morwen could picture the exasperated scowl on his subordinate's face.

"FRANZ! WHY IN THE F**K ARE YOU TAKING SO LONG?" Kayn screamed, "ARE YOU BINGE-WATCHING ON MY NETFLIX ACCOUNT AGAIN? GET OVER HERE NOW!"

thud... thud... thud...

The footsteps followed by the sound of crashing furniture filtered through the earpiece.

"AHHH! YOU SAID WHAT! F**K YOU KAYN!"

CRASH!!!

haah...

Morwen barely suppressed a sigh. His two trusted subordinates were fighting once more, something that was out of his control.

Ding!

Kayn returned to the line, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Bandits dealt with, master. Mapping data and points of interest are being uploaded to your watch now. Be warned, Pinnacle's technicians aren't easily fooled. Choose placement areas with a minimum security presence."

"Understood," Morwen replied curtly. Cutting the connection, he scanned the updated information displayed on his watch.

fwang!

[Current Map Points Of Interest: 4]

[Data Analysis: ?]

Morwen looked at the question mark before proceeding to walk through the potential waypoints highlighted in the inner corridors,

"Hm... It makes sense since I haven't explored the entire building yet." Morwen muttered, 'I only have about 3-4 chances to get this right and if she's not within the right location then this mission is nothing but failure."

Morwen quickly passed through another secure area, unchecked by the blinking red warnings in areas with higher surveillance.

It would be a light operation, but Morwen was nothing if not careful. This evening, he would lay the groundwork for a power play that would shake the very foundations of Pinnacle Academy.

Morwen continued his silent lookout through the empty hallways, the echo of footsteps his only was the only sound heard throughout the empty sections of the stadium.

Swing!

Swing!

But the sounds of the arena shifted.

A swing of a sword pierced the rhythmic thud of his own movement – the sharp whistle of a blade cutting through the air, followed by the muffled impact of metal striking a solid target.

Curiosity nudged him for a moment. Who would be training at this hour, when the semi-finals were close?

Yet, it was the discipline and focus that quickly overruled fleeting interest.

Distractions, no matter how appealing, were obstacles to the larger plan.

With a precise touch, he flung another trace of mana on the wall, adding it to the web he was weaving throughout the arena.

...

[Five minutes later...]

...

Five minutes later, and a circuit completed, he found himself back where he'd begun.

The relentless sound of the sword still echoed from behind a nearby door.

Now, with his task complete, a shred of that earlier curiosity resurfaced. Who was this dedicated soul, practising with such intensity at this hour?

"Perhaps a student… who doesn't care about the semi-finals?" he wondered, a hint of a smile twitching at his lips.

He briefly considered indulging himself, catching a glimpse of this determined individual before his departure.

But then a sound of a familiar voice spoke within the room.

"Then again, maybe I'm just overthinking this…"

Moving closer he saw a sign before the door, its official title barely readable in the dim lighting:

"Training Room #1".

Approaching stealthily, he risked a careful glance through one of the small windows set into the heavy door.

At first, all he saw was the battered practice dummy, standing eerily silent.

Suddenly, he saw someone move! His eyes went wide. It was a girl, too fast to see clearly, swinging a sword. Her blade glowed with aura, but... something went wrong. She swung at nothing but air.

There was something familiar about her… The voice, echoing through the door, startled him into recognition.

She looked as if she had matched the description of Morwen's vessel... And as everything clicked into place, it seemed the person he had been looking for all along was right in front of him.

Valencia.

The realization sent a ripple of disbelief through him.

The carefully laid traps, the careful planning... all of it suddenly felt useless. But it was an opportunity that knocked, louder and far more direct than he'd ever dared to hope.

His next step was instinctual.

He reached for the handle, intent on throwing caution to the wind.

After all, why bother with traps when his target was right there? But in his haste, his control slipped.

A fraction of his presence, that chilling aura he usually kept concealed, leaked out, a brief ripple in the air.

He froze as he felt Valencia's own presence jolt in response.

"Who's there?" Her voice, sharp as her blade, pierced the silence.

"Shit..."

He'd been careless. Decisions had to be made, and quickly.

Should he flee, or should he seize this unexpected chance?

The world seemed to slow to a crawl.

Morwen's hand hovered just inches from the doorknob, his entire being screaming with the urge to seize this unexpected opportunity.

But fate had thrown a wrench in his carefully laid plans.

"Who are you?"

The voice cut through the air like a whip, its icy tone carrying a sharp edge of suspicion.

The shadows in the hall seemed to lengthen, stretching into an unnatural darkness that mirrored Morwen's own hidden nature.

________________

Authors Notes:

- Each stadium training room has noise-cancelling walls to keep students inside focused.

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