The academy had never been this loud.
From the moment Riven stepped onto the morning training grounds, whispers spread like wildfire.
The once-forgotten noble—the "exiled failure" of House Vade—had returned.
And he was no longer the same.
---
"Did you see him?!"
A noble girl clutched her friend's sleeve, her cheeks slightly flushed. "He looks completely different!"
"His eyes…" another girl murmured, her fingers brushing against her lips. "So cold. So intense."
"He barely acknowledges anyone," a third added, shivering. "And yet—he's impossible to ignore."
Noble daughters, once uninterested, now found their gazes lingering whenever he passed. It wasn't just his handsomeness.
It was his presence.
The suffocating aura of a predator.
---
Rivals in the Shadows
But not everyone was in awe.
Some watched him from the shadows, their expressions dark with hatred.
Three names.
Three nobles who saw Riven not as a rising legend—but as a threat that needed to be erased.
---
1. Darius Valstein – The Golden Lion
Darius Valstein, heir to one of the greatest martial families, leaned against the training hall's wall, his arms crossed. His golden eyes locked onto Riven like a beast sizing up another alpha.
The Valsteins ruled the battlefield. They were kings among knights.
And yet—one glance at Riven told him something terrifying.
This man…
was beyond any knight he had ever met.
A flicker of rage burned in Darius's chest. No. He refused to accept this.
---
2. Cain Everhart – The Cursed Hound
Cain Everhart, the bastard son of a fallen noble house, sat lazily atop a tree branch, chewing on a toothpick. Unlike the other nobles, he wasn't dressed in pristine uniforms.
His sleeveless coat revealed scarred arms—proof of countless fights.
His wolfish grin widened as he stared at Riven, his muscles tensing in excitement.
"This guy's different," Cain muttered.
Most nobles had mana or relied on bloodline gifts.
But Cain?
He fought with his body. With pure, savage instinct.
And Riven?
He smelled like a killer.
Cain grinned wider. "I gotta fight him."
---
3. Lucian Veldt – The Phantom Scholar
The last noble watched from afar.
Lucian Veldt was not a warrior.
He was something far worse.
His mind was sharper than any blade, his schemes deeper than any abyss.
And Riven Vade?
He was a wild card.
Lucian adjusted his glasses, the morning sun glinting off the frames.
If Riven wasn't controlled…
He would have to be eliminated.
---
The Confrontation
Riven, oblivious to the storm brewing around him, walked through the academy halls with his usual cold indifference.
Until—
"You."
A shadow loomed over him.
Darius Valstein.
His golden eyes burned with undisguised hostility.
"You're getting too full of yourself," Darius said, his tone sharp.
Silence.
The hallway stilled. Every noble turned to watch.
Riven's expression remained unreadable.
"…And?"
Darius clenched his fist. That tone. That complete lack of fear.
"Know your place, Vade," Darius growled. "You might have some talent, but you're—"
Before he could finish—
CRACK.
Riven was already in front of him.
Too fast.
Too precise.
The ground fractured beneath his step.
Darius's breath caught in his throat. An instant kill range.
Riven's crimson eyes bore into him.
"…Move."
Darius felt something he hadn't in years.
Fear.
His instincts screamed. If he pushed further—he would die.
The hallway was dead silent.
And then—
Cain laughed.
Loud. Wild. Savage.
"Shit, this is good." He hopped down from the railing, cracking his knuckles. "Darius, if you're too scared, I'll take him."
Darius scowled. "Tch. Do what you want."
Cain grinned. "Oi, Vade."
Riven finally turned his gaze to him.
"You up for a fight?"
The tension spiked.
A real fight. Not politics. Not status.
Just pure, unfiltered combat.
Riven stared at him for a moment—then smirked.
"…Fine."
The academy was about to witness something unprecedented.
And everyone knew—
This would be legendary.