The academy's vibrant corridors felt strangely muted to Dante as he walked toward his next class. Whispers floated in the air, and though none were directed at him, he could feel eyes lingering on his every move. Something had shifted, and it wasn't just the events beneath the academy.
The change was Gregor.
Since the incident in the Nexus Vault, Gregor had been distant. What used to be quick glances of disdain had become complete avoidance. Instructors paired them for sparring? Gregor excused himself. Group projects? Gregor found someone else. Dante didn't understand the sudden hostility—or was it fear?
As Dante entered the training hall for sword practice, he saw Gregor at the far end of the room, immersed in a sparring match. His movements were sharper, more aggressive than Dante had ever seen. Leah noticed it too.
"Looks like he's taking his frustration out on training," she muttered, sidling up to Dante. "What's his deal? He's been acting weird ever since we got back."
"I don't know," Dante said, gripping the hilt of his practice sword tightly. "But I intend to find out."
After class, Dante cornered Gregor near the dining hall. The other students milled around, giving the two a wide berth as tension crackled in the air.
"Gregor," Dante called, his voice firm.
The older boy froze but didn't turn around. "What do you want?"
"We need to talk."
Gregor finally faced him, his eyes dark and unreadable. "About what?"
"You've been avoiding me ever since the Nexus Vault," Dante said bluntly. "What's going on?"
Gregor's jaw tightened. "You think I'm avoiding you? Maybe I just don't want to get dragged into another one of your messes. People like you bring trouble wherever you go."
"People like me?" Dante repeated, his voice rising. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're reckless," Gregor snapped. "You walk into danger without thinking about the consequences. Do you know how lucky you are that Leah and you made it out of there alive? You think that makes you special? It makes you dangerous."
For a moment, Dante was stunned. Then anger bubbled to the surface. "I didn't ask for any of this! I didn't ask to be dragged into some ancient mess tied to my bloodline. But I'm trying to do something about it. What's your excuse? You're scared, Gregor. Admit it."
Gregor's face twisted with anger, but he didn't reply. Instead, he shoved past Dante and disappeared into the crowd.
Leah appeared at his side moments later. "That went well."
Dante sighed. "I don't get him. He's always had it out for me, but now…"
"Now it's personal," Leah finished. "Whatever's going on with him, it's not your problem. Focus on what's in front of you."
Over the next few days, Dante threw himself into his training. The academy's curriculum shifted from basic techniques to more advanced concepts. Swordplay was no longer just about form; it was about infusing energy—sword qi—into every strike.
Dante stood in the training hall, the Bloodline Chronicle system hovering faintly in his vision.
"Sword qi is the manifestation of your energy through your weapon," the system explained. "It is a fundamental skill for combatants, but mastering it requires control and focus."
"Got it," Dante muttered, gripping his training sword. He closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling for the faint stirrings of energy within him. It was there, like a tiny ember, waiting to be fanned into a flame.
"Focus on your breathing," Leah said from the sidelines, watching him practice. "If you push too hard, you'll lose control."
He nodded, sweat dripping down his brow as he swung the blade. A faint shimmer of energy trailed behind it—a spark of sword qi.
"Not bad," Leah said, impressed.
Dante grinned, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Give me a few weeks, and I'll be cutting through steel."
"Don't get cocky," Leah teased. "You're still a long way from mastering it."
Meanwhile, Gregor watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. His grip tightened on the sword at his side.
"Dante…" he muttered under his breath. "You have no idea what you're getting into."
Unknown to Dante, Gregor's hatred wasn't just born of jealousy or fear. It was something deeper—a secret tied to the Nexus Vault and the bloodlines it protected