After leaving the black market, I headed to a nearby restroom to revert my appearance.
I Stood in front of the mirror, as I focused and suppressed the [Fire Essence] within me, letting it ebb away. My once fiery red hair gradually shifted back to its natural black, and my eyes returned to their usual silver shade. Sometimes it felt strange, switching identities and become someone else entirely.
'But It was necessary.'
Tapping on my wrist band, I realized that there were only thirty minutes left before my class started.
*Sigh…*
"I can make it." I muttered, as I rushed toward NOVA Academy.
By the time I reached Nova, the tall, modern buildings loomed over me, and students, wearing black uniform same as mine swarmed around, lost in their own conversations.
I made my way infront of the classroom, standing before me was a large wooden door with Class 1A graved on it.
The moment I stepped in, I bumped into someone.
"Ouch!" A sharp voice exclaimed.
The sound of pain came from the other party, I glanced down and saw a girl with blond hair glaring up at me. Her features instantly gave her away that she was from [Terranova].
"Sorry," I said quickly, stepping back to give her space.
But instead of accepting my apology, she narrowed her eye, and she snapped, "Watch where you're going!"
'What now!?'
". . ."
I'm not the type who gets angered easily, by some pity things. I just stood there silently, blankly staring right into her eyes.
I nodded slightly in acknowledgment, deciding it wasn't worth engaging with her. I began to move toward my seat at the back, but she wasn't done.
"Hey! Did you just ignore me?" Her voice rose up a bit, sharp enough to catch the attention of the entire class.
There gazes landed toward us, as silent whispered spread across the class.
*Sigh..* 'Not today'
Angered by my long sigh, her lips curled upward as a faint vicious smile appeared on her face. By a single glance at her, I could tell, that she doesn't want this to end quickly.
I can't afford to cause trouble before tomorrow.
"You bumped into me on purpose, didn't you!? What's your problem!?"
Whispers filled the room, and the weight of everyone's gaze turned toward me. She was shouting now, practically accusing me of something really absurd.
'Just let it slide,' I told myself, suppressing the urge to slap her face.
"What? Cat got your tongue?"
Her insults kept coming, but I stood there, fully composed, and this made her ever more furious, without suppressing any longer she released her [Essence].
*Swoosh!*
The whole classroom felt that, her aura was strong, really strong, but it didn't affect me.
'Interesting, maybe I shou—'
"Stop." But before things could escalate any further, a boy with silver hair stepped forward. His broad shoulders and confident stride immediately drew the class's attention. He was the kind of guy you just couldn't ignore—handsome, well-built, and radiating unparalleled charisma.
"Jessica, that's enough," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Let's not cause unnecessary drama."
"Tsk."
Jessica, the girl who'd been shouting at me, clicked her tongue in annoyance. She gave one last glare before snorting to me, "Book-leech."
'Book-leech? Wow! A brand-new title.'
I almost chuckled at the ridiculous insult. Book-leech? That's a new one.
As everything settled down, I made my way to my usual seat at the back, beside Anna. She greeted me with a small smile, "Morning, Zane."
"Morning."
"You handled it well," she said quietly. "Not everyone can stay that calm in these situations."
I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. "I have seen worse."
Anna's expression grew serious. "Still, be careful around her. Jessica Rossel isn't the type to let things go. She's the type who holds grudges."
"Heh, Noted," I replied, chuckling lightly. "But I'm not worried."
Anna continued, "Her family has quite the reputation in Terranova. They're a bunch of infamous nobles, with enough power and connections. And, do you know? Her father is a high-ranking member of the Hero Association."
"Is that so," I said, though I couldn't bring myself to feel concerned.
'She will be quite useful to me.'
"You have a weird grin on your face, it's creepy. And also, that guy who stepped in? That's Julius Rianguard," Anna added. "He ranked first in both the Essence test and physical test during admissions. He's practically a celebrity among the first years."
"Julius, huh?" I glanced at the silver-haired boy, who was now casually chatting with a group of students.
Our conversation lasted shortly as the first class began. Miss Monica, the History of Elemental teacher, entered the room with her usual expression, her sharp blue gaze swept across the class. The lecture passed quickly as she once again debated into the origins of the elemental essences and their impact on society.
But before I knew it, the second period has already begun, as Mr. Lucas Vayne, the rank 176th hero, entered the training hall. His figure commanded respect as he stood on the raised podium, scanning the room with sharp eyes.
"Stand quietly," he ordered, his voice firm and steady. The students present, immediately fell silent, the faint sound of tapping feet echoing in the spacious hall.
"This class," Lucas began, "is about mastering your weapon. Each of you will wield your chosen weapon and practice the basics. I will monitor your performance one by one, correcting your every mistake and providing feedback if necessary. Remember, even the strongest techniques are built on the foundation of the basics. Don't disappoint me. Begin!"
With that, the class began. I stepped in to my designated spot, reaching into my dimensional pouch I retrieve my weapon. My hand griped around the familiar hilt of my black katana, as I unsheathed it with a soft, metallic hiss. The blade gleamed faintly under the training hall lights, a comforting weight in my hands.
I decided to focus on the most basic move—a continuous vertical slash from top to bottom. There was no need to do anything fancy. My arms moved in a steady rhythm, the blade cutting through the air with each swing. Up, down. Up, down.
Around me, the sound of various weapons filled the hall—clashing swords, the humming energy of weapons, and the occasional clashes of two swords. Lucas moved among the students, his sharp gaze analyzing every detail. Some he praises, while others received corrections.
"Good stance. Keep your shoulders relaxed."
"Don't overextend—control your movements."
I watched out of the corner of my eye as he approached Julius. The silver-haired celebrity first year was wielding a long double-edged sword with precise, calculated movements. Even from a distance, it was clear why Julius was ranked first in the entrance exams. His technique was flawless, each swing of his sword fluid and powerful.
'I'm impressed.'
"Well done," Lucas said, nodding. "Outstanding weapon handling. Keep it up."
Eventually, Lucas made his way toward me. I kept my focus on my swings, the repetitive rhythm of the vertical slashes keeping me grounded. Up, down. Up, down.
I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention. By keeping things simple, I can live a quiet and uncomplicated life.
He stopped a few feet away from me, his arms crossed, watching me silently. I didn't falter, maintaining my same pace and precision. After a few minutes, he finally spoke.
"Your stance is solid," he said, his tone neutral. "If you work a little harder, you could become a decent hero."
'Mission success!'
But a decent hero? My technique wasn't that bad. I'm not here for anyone's approval. My goals were my own, and I wasn't about to be swayed by praise or criticism.
As the session continued, Mr. Lucas, with his loud voice declared, "Alright! That's it for today, after your lunch, we will be visiting Frostvile Mountain range for your practical training."
On his comment, some whispered evolved across the training hall.
"Silence! Now move. Don't be late."
With this the class ended, but tomorrow was the real test, the storm I had to face. Today was just another step in the preparation.
. . .
In a dimly lit room within a grand mansion, blending seamlessly with the faint crackle of a fireplace. The space was luxurious—marble floors, golden chandeliers, and red velvet curtains that swayed slightly from the gentle air slipping through the windows.
On a luxurious king-sized bed, a figure lounged with an air of absolute confidence. His blond hair gleamed in the dimed lighting, and his piercing blue eyes reflected the firelight as he sipped a glass of deep red wine. His rough features, sharp jawline, and perfectly groomed hair made him appear as though he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. But there was something cold and calculating about his aura, as though every move he made was part of a grander scheme.
Beside him was a woman lay beneath the silk sheets, her body trembling with exhaustion. Beads of sweat dripping on her forehead, and her rapid breathing which suggested, as if she was still recovering from a long marathon race. Yet the man paid her no mind to her, his attention was solely fixated on the glowing tablet in his hands. He slid through its screen with his finger, his gaze scanning each and every detail with sharp precision.
As he paused on one particular screen, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He swirled the wine in his glass, watching as the liquid catch the light before taking a slow sip. Setting the glass down on the bedside table, he leaned back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face.
"All is going according to plan," he murmured to himself, his voice smooth yet dripping with absolute confidence and arrogance.
Without another glance, he tossed the tablet onto the floor. The device landed with a thud, its screen still glowing. Displayed on it were detailed blueprints of NOVA Academy, along with a comprehensive file on Ruby Oliver—her class schedule, abilities, and even surveillance images. This level of detail analysis suggested weeks, if not months, of precise planning.
The man, known as Glory, turned his attention back to the woman beside him. As he ran his finger on her delicate soft back, suddenly he lunged toward her, pinning her beneath him with a wolf like grin. She gasped softly but she didn't resist, her body too drained to react.
"Please… my mother… spare her…." She cried, as she closed her eyes in dominance.
His fingers trailed lazily down her arm as he whispered in a voice as smooth as silk, "Don't worry, darling. The world waits for no one, and neither do I."
"And as for, Pride or should I call Ruby... you'll soon realize just how small your world really is."
The game had already begun, and Glory always played to win.
End of chapter.