The Shadows of the Thirteenth Bell

I just wanted a quiet morning to brew my tea. Instead, the Schola’s morning bell tolled a thirteenth time, and my reflection in the mirror wept black blood. It was the exact eerie omen that preceded Master Othor's assassination in my first life. I thought my regression was a divine second chance. I thought if I hid my lethal Eclipse Executioner class behind the timid facade of a basic dagger-scout, I could quietly gather the strength I lacked before. I was wrong about everything. I kept my head down, enduring the cruel mockery of Prefect Morvath, our sadistic instructor who openly favors the wealthy patricians. But when a grotesque Dredge-Goliath breaches the training grounds and Morvath cowardly abandons a young novice to die, my stubborn streak takes over. I sever the beast’s head in a single breath, my unleashed shadows shattering the courtyard's ancient mist-barrier for all to see. Now my secret is out, and Carys - the brilliant illusionist who always saw past my shy act - is caught in the crossfire. As the supposedly wise Arch-Curator offers me shelter, a chilling truth dawns on me: the regression system isn't a gift. It's a parasitic trap. Can I rewrite the rules before the shadows claim us all?