The towering, eighty-floored quarter that rose to the right of Vyrimka Sadan was nothing short of breathtaking.
Its sheer size and grandeur commanded attention, especially for someone like Kael, who had never before been exposed to such a level of opulence. The architectural style was unmistakably Valeran, a reflection of a long history rich in culture and craftsmanship.
Deep crimson hues laced with intricate golden patterns adorned the walls, pillars, and arches, reminiscent of the royal palaces that defined Valeran's ancient legacy. Each corner, each beam, and even the smallest detail seemed to carry with it centuries of tradition and refinement.
The floors from the 21st to the 23rd had been specifically designated for the students participating in the competition. The teacher's quarters lay on the opposite side of the grounds, separated from the students as though drawing a clear line between authority and youth.
As Kael approached the entrance hall of the student quarters, two stoic guards dressed in white uniforms, complete with the golden lion crest of House Valeran, stood in front of the large gilded doors. Their eyes were sharp and their presence was almost overbearing.
Kael stepped forward and was immediately stopped for inspection, the guards methodically checking every inch of his person, his belongings, and his identification.
The hall beyond was nothing short of magnificence itself. Marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, crafted with delicate, crystalline designs that reflected the lion sigil from their surfaces. Long banners of crimson and gold stretched across the ceiling, their elegant folds adding to the room's grandeur.
The walls were painted with murals that depicted scenes of Valeran history — warriors astride their majestic beasts, ancient scholars holding scrolls, and kings standing tall upon their thrones. It was clear that the art here had a dual purpose: to celebrate the strength of House Valeran and to remind anyone walking these halls of the power they wielded.
Kael couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship, but at the same time, a familiar unease settled in his stomach.
Even here, within a place of supposed national importance, the lion sigil was everywhere. Not just in the grand hall, but on the uniforms of the guards, engraved on the walls, embedded into the very structure of the quarter. It was even stamped onto the simple reception desk where the students checked in.
He wondered, as he took his room card from the desk, how much influence House Valeran Did they blanket their entire dominion in symbols of their control, ensuring no one forgot who was in charge?
Luckily for Kael, the receptionist who handed him his room card didn't react when she saw his last name. She simply gave him a polite smile and wished him a pleasant stay. For that, he was grateful.
As he made his way to the elevator, he studied the room pass in his hand. Even the pass had the lion sigil engraved on it in gold, as though to remind the bearer of who allowed them entry into this grand space.
It was beginning to feel less like an honor and more like a subtle form of dictatorship, where even the most mundane item was a constant reminder of power. House Valeran's reach stretched far and wide, and it was hard to ignore how every facet of life seemed to revolve around their symbol, their influence.
Was this how the great houses operated? Even here, in this so-called house which preached unity, it was clear that certain houses sought to overshadow the others with their wealth, their might, their pride.
Kael stood by the elevator, waiting for the doors to open, when he sensed movement from his peripheral vision. He turned his head slightly and saw them — Ethan Kross, Landon Pierce, Nolan Greer, and Axel Harrington — the same group of men who had been glaring at him earlier during the event. Their expressions were just as cold, and Kael knew from the brief exchange earlier that they weren't just interested in idle conversation.
The four of them walked with an air of superiority that was impossible to miss.
Ethan Kross, from House Ironwood, led the group, his sharp green eyes locking onto Kael the moment he turned to face them. His was the epitome of power, the future heir of Forge Industries, a global leader in advanced military technology and weaponry. His family's company didn't just build weapons — they built the future of warfare, supplying governments, private security firms, and even mercenary groups with cutting-edge tech.
The Kross name was synonymous with power, wealth, and a certain invincibility that made even the most powerful leaders tread carefully around them.
Beside Ethan was Landon Pierce,from House Virel, a family known for their dominance in Tech and Artificial Intelligence. Pierce Corporations had revolutionized the tech industry, pioneering everything from AI systems to cybernetics. They had a hand in almost every piece of advanced technology that shaped modern society, making them indispensable to both civilian and military sectors.
Then there was Nolan Greer of House Calderon, whose family controlled the Capital Group, the multinational leader in Financial services and Banking. They influenced the global economy with a mere flick of a pen, deciding which businesses would thrive and which would collapse. Their sway over the financial sector was immense, and Nolan's position as the future heir guaranteed his role in shaping the world's economy.
Finally, there was Axel Harrington of House Durnhart. His family's Harrington Media Group dominated the global entertainment, film, and broadcasting industries. Their media empire controlled the narrative of nearly every major story, from news to entertainment, shaping public opinion and influencing the masses on a global scale. If there was one family who could control what people thought, it was the Harringtons.
The power these four men wielded was astronomical, their families each holding a significant piece of the world's influence. They didn't just represent their houses — they represented industries that defined the course of nations.
The elevator doors chimed open, and Kael stepped inside, pressing the button for the twenty-first floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a polished black boot slid between them, forcing them to open again. Ethan Kross stepped into the elevator, his smirk infuriating, and his eyes gleaming with wicked. The rest of the group followed him in, crowding the space.
Kael clenched his jaw slightly but kept his posture calm, his hands resting casually at his sides. He could feel their eyes on him, their judgment, their scrutiny. Ethan, with his superiority complex practically radiating off him, stood directly beside Kael, his presence demanding attention.
As the elevator ascended, Kael caught snippets of conversation between Landon and Nolan.
"The market's been erratic," Landon was saying, his voice smooth and confident. "I'm thinking it's a temporary flux. With the AI enhancements, it'll stabilize within a quarter. We've got prototypes rolling out soon."
"Agreed," Nolan replied, his tone equally measured. "Once the merger is finalized, the projected stock growth will skyrocket. Investors are waiting for the green light."
Kael didn't know all the details of what they were discussing, but it was clear these men were used to playing in high-stakes games where millions, if not billions, were at stake. Their casual conversation about stock markets and mergers was enough to show how deeply entrenched they were in the world of wealth and power.
Kael listened, occasionally agreeing with their statements inwardly, though he kept his expression neutral.
Then, Ethan turned to Kael, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"What's your name?" It wasn't a question. It was more of a demand.
Nolan and Landon immediately stopped talking, their attention shifting to Kael as the air in the elevator grew tense. The hum of the elevator was the only sound for a moment.
"Kael Arden," Kael replied, his voice steady, his eyes meeting Ethan's without flinching.
Ethan smirked, tilting his head slightly as if assessing him. "Arden, huh? Can't say I've heard of your family." His tone dripped with condescension, as though the very idea that he didn't recognize the name rendered it insignificant.
Kael kept his expression calm, though he could feel the arrogance radiating off them. "We're not in the weapons industry, if that's what you're asking."
Landon chuckled softly, but it was devoid of any real warmth. "Or the tech industry, I assume. Or finance. Or media," he added, glancing at Nolan and Axel, who both wore matching smirks.
Kael met their gaze, unbothered. "No. None of those." His tone was polite, professional even, but there was a hint of steel behind his words. He wasn't about to let them belittle him.
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "So what do you do, Arden? Something... more modest, I take it?"
Kael's lips quirked slightly, but he maintained his composure. "Political science, actually. With a minor in mathematics."
Ethan chuckled darkly. "Political science, huh? So you're planning on becoming a politician?"
"Something like that," Kael responded smoothly, his tone unwavering. "Or maybe just someone who understands how systems like yours operate."
The air grew quieter, the tension palpable. Ethan's smirk deepened, but there was something darker in his gaze now, a glint of challenge. "You think you understand how this works, Arden?"
Kael held his ground. "I think I'm learning."
The elevator chimed, the doors sliding open to reveal their floor. As Kael stepped out, Ethan reached out, grabbing his arm lightly but firmly, stopping him in his tracks.
"Careful, Arden," Ethan said, his voice low and threatening. "Don't challenge the people who hold the power. It won't end well for you."
Kael met his gaze, unfazed. "Power isn't always as permanent as it seems."
Ethan's lips twisted into an amused smile, but his eyes were cold. "We'll see."
Kael pulled his arm free, turning and walking to his room, locking the door behind him with a quiet click.
***
The dinner had passed smoothly, or at least as smoothly as an event could with the ever-present tension that hung over Kael like a dark cloud.
Seated among some of the most influential figures in the country, the attorney general himself along with several high-ranking officers from the defense forces, Kael tried to keep a low profile. The room was awash in formalities, not an ounce of small talk exchanged. Just a pleasant greeting to start, a small prayer muttered under collective breath, and then the food.
But the real discomfort came not from the dinner itself, but from the constant flash of cameras that surrounded them.
Photographers from every angle snapped picture after picture, ensuring that no moment of the evening went undocumented. Kael, caught in the crosshairs of their lenses, felt his skin crawl. He wasn't used to the spotlight, nor did he want to be.
He tried to avoid the cameras, tilting his head just slightly or leaning into the shadows, but he knew it was impossible. They were relentless, capturing every second as if it were history being made.
Professor Aldwin, sitting beside him, noticed his discomfort. Her eyes flicked toward him with a subtle, guilty glance, but there was nothing she could do. Not here, not with all the eyes on them. So, the dinner went on, and Kael did his best to survive it without letting the tension bubbling inside him show.
After the meal, as they made their way out, Professor Aldwin asked softly, "How's your stay been so far, Kael?"
"It's been comfortable," Kael replied, though he kept his tone carefully neutral. He wasn't about to share the details of his earlier confrontation in the elevator. It was useless.
When he finally returned to his floor, the hall was quiet. Kael stood in front of his door, his hand poised to swipe the card. But just as he was about to open it, he heard voices at the far end of the corridor.
They were faint at first, just whispers carried by the still air, but they were growing louder. There was something sharp in their tone, like an argument barely contained, though Kael couldn't make out the words.
Curiosity gnawed at him. Against his better judgment, he stepped away from his door, moving toward the voices.
But just as he reached the middle of the hall, a hand shot out from behind him, grabbing his wrist with a vice-like grip. Before Kael could react, he was slammed against the wall, his right wrist twisted painfully behind his back. A sharp burst of pain shot up his arm, causing him to groan in agony, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping open with anger boiling inside them.
Ethan Kross.
The green eyes that met his were filled with fury. Ethan stood too close, his breath brushing Kael's face. One hand pinned Kael's wrist behind his back while the other pressed against the wall beside Kael's head, trapping him.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Ethan's voice was a low growl, just above a whisper, but it was enough to send a chill down Kael's spine. There was danger in that voice, danger and a promise of violence.
Kael's body jerked instinctively, trying to pull away, but that only made Ethan twist his arm tighter, pain shooting up Kael's shoulder. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, his teeth gritting against the strain. "What the —"
Before Kael could finish, Ethan's hand shot up and clamped over his mouth, silencing him. Kael's eyes widened in shock, his breath coming in quick, harsh bursts through his nose. He jerked again, but it was futile. Ethan's grip only tightened.
"Lower your voice," Ethan whispered, his tone laced with cold warning, "or you'll never make it to the Sadan tomorrow. You think your precious debate competition matters? One word from me, and you'll be out before you even step into the building."
The words hit Kael like a punch to the gut. He froze, the full weight of Ethan's threat settling over him. Kael knew what Ethan was capable of. He knew the kind of connections his family had, the kind of power they wielded. All it would take was a single phone call, and Kael's entire future could be ripped out from under him.
But that didn't mean Kael would just take it. He wasn't about to let Ethan intimidate him into submission. His eyes, now burning with rage, locked onto Ethan's, and in one swift move, Kael bit down hard on Ethan's palm.
Ethan flinched, a sharp intake of breath the only sign of his pain, but instead of retaliating with more violence, something strange flashed across his face. Amusement.
His lips curled into a smirk, his eyes narrowing in dark satisfaction. He pulled his hand away from Kael's mouth, but the damage had already been done. Kael was seething, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, barely able to contain the fury surging through him.
"How dare you?" Kael's voice was low, filled with a dangerous edge as he jerked his right arm in an attempt to free himself, but Ethan's grip held firm. The voices from the end of the hall were louder now, but they were still muffled, too far away for Kael to make out the words.
He didn't care anymore. All his attention was on the man in front of him, the man who had crossed a line he couldn't forgive.
Ethan leaned in closer, his breath hot against Kael's ear. "I can dare a lot of things, Arden," he whispered, his voice hard and dripping with venom. "But what you need to understand is that you're playing in a world that'll swallow you whole if you don't know your place. Mind your own business, or I'll make sure you regret ever stepping foot here."
Kael's pulse pounded in his ears, anger coursing through his veins like fire. His fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms so hard he thought they might break the skin. He hated the proximity, the smug superiority, the way Ethan used his last name.
He hated everything about this moment. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to break free and slam his own fist into Ethan's face. But he knew he had to keep control. Losing his temper now would only give Ethan what he wanted.
With all the strength he could muster, Kael shoved Ethan backward, using his free arm to push him away. Ethan stumbled, his grip on Kael's wrist finally breaking.
"Fuck off," Kael muttered under his breath, his voice laced with barely contained fury.
Ethan's lips parted in a small, surprised smile, a flash of something darker in his eyes. But Kael didn't give him the satisfaction of another word.
Without looking back, he turned and strode toward his room, his heart still pounding in his chest, his muscles still tense with the need for a fight. He ignored the voices from the end of the hall, ignored the lingering feeling of Ethan's gaze burning into his back.
As he reached his door, his hands shook with the adrenaline still coursing through his body. The keycard rattled slightly as he slid it into the lock, but Kael clenched his jaw, forcing himself to steady his hands. His head was buzzing with anger, his vision tinged with red.
"Don't let him get to you, Kael," a voice whispered in the back of his mind, though it barely made a dent in the storm of emotion swirling inside him.
He slammed the door shut behind him, the loud thud echoing through the empty room.
For a moment, Kael stood there, leaning against the door, his fists still clenched, knuckles white with the force of his grip.
His breathing was heavy, ragged, as though he'd just run a marathon. The silence of the room pressed in on him, amplifying the pounding of his heart in his ears.
Anger still simmered beneath the surface, red-hot and threatening to spill over, to explode in a way that would leave everything in its wake shattered. But Kael forced it down, pushed it deep into the pit of his stomach where it could simmer and burn, waiting for the right moment.
Tomorrow. He would let it all out tomorrow.
The debate competition. That was where it would happen.
He would make sure of it.
These elites had no idea what was about to hit them.