Rumors spread faster than a lethal plague.
It all started with a dawn spectacle: Kaelia von Ashford, the Student Council President, was seen emerging from the VIP Dormitory now occupied by Ethan Valen. Her slightly rumpled uniform, her unsteady gait, and the murderous glare she shot at two upperclassmen that morning served as the perfect catalyst.
It didn’t take long for the whispers to evolve.
The students’ memories were dragged back to the Trial by Combat incident. Back when Kaelia had openly defied Prince Edward to protect her position, implicitly choosing to seek asylum in Ethan’s shadow.
People used to think it was a purely political alliance. But this morning changed everything. An absolute scandal had been born.
Amidst that sea of whispers, Kaelia strode down the corridor.
Her fiery red hair was tied in a high ponytail, swaying sharply with every step. The crimson and gold Student Council uniform perfectly accentuated her upright posture. Her golden-yellow eyes stared straight ahead, as cold as ice. She acted as if the dozens of eyes watching her were nothing but invisible pebbles.
Some students hastily stepped aside, bowing their heads in dread. However, from the noble faction’s camp, a few nudged each other and sneered behind their hands.
Kaelia could feel those stares crawling on her skin like thousands of needles. The atmosphere was suffocating.
Beneath her stoic, porcelain facade, her stomach churned violently. The Lust Brand hidden beneath her uniform throbbed rhythmically, radiating a lingering heat that served as a constant reminder of his absolute dominance last night.
Kaelia forcefully swallowed the memory down. In these halls, she was a predator. Not even a sliver of weakness could be shown.
The girl quickened her pace toward the Student Council Chamber. The real battle was just beginning.
The Student Council assembly room was the symbol of Zenithar’s supremacy.
A semi-circular oak table dominated the room, bathed in the golden glow of a crystal chandelier. The academy’s sword and shield crest hung proudly on the main wall.
But this morning, the air in the spacious hall felt unbearably heavy.
Kaelia sat rigidly in the president’s seat. Her expression was completely flat. Under the table, however, her fingers gripped the edge of her wooden chair until her knuckles turned white, fighting back the mounting pressure.
Around her, the council executives from various factions sat waiting.
At the far right sat Rodric. The third-year from the core noble faction wore his aristocratic blue uniform. His dark blond hair was slicked back flawlessly. His stormy gray eyes stared at Kaelia with a condescending glint.
"The monthly evaluation meeting begins now," Kaelia’s voice cut through the silence, clear and sharp.
Just as she was about to open the document folder in front of her, a low chuckle echoed out.
Rodric laughed. It was soft, yet loud enough to reverberate across the room. A few council members held their breath, anticipating the clash they knew was coming.
"My apologies for interrupting, President," Rodric said in an overly polite tone that dripped with lethal venom. "We’re just a little... concerned. You look like you haven’t slept much today."
Rodric leaned forward slightly. "Perhaps the burden of managing the academy is too heavy? Or maybe... you have other private matters to attend to late into the night? Or right before dawn, to be exact?"
Several council members exchanged glances. Some hid cynical smiles, thoroughly enjoying the open provocation.
A classic political trap. If Kaelia exploded in anger, her authority would crumble. If she stayed silent, she practically confirmed the rumors.
Kaelia didn’t explode. Nor did she back down.
Slowly, the girl released her grip on the chair. She stood up, planted both hands firmly on the table, and locked eyes with Rodric’s gray ones. Her golden-yellow eyes narrowed dangerously.
The air around her seemed to catch fire. A faint wave of scorching Mana rippled from Kaelia’s body, causing the council members sitting closest to instinctively hold their breath. Unhurried, Kaelia stepped out from behind her chair. She rounded the table. The clicking of her heels echoed like a death knell—clack, clack, clack—as she approached Rodric.
Tension strangled the room. Rodric’s mocking smile vanished, replaced by stark vigilance.
Kaelia stopped right beside him. She leaned down slightly, closing the distance, piercing straight into the nobleman’s eyes.
"My business, Rodric," Kaelia hissed, her voice as low as a deadly whisper, "is making sure this council isn’t infested with useless leeches."
Rodric swallowed hard, trying to hold his ground. "I was merely looking out for the President’s well-being—"
"Then where is the internal logistics report from your faction?" Kaelia cut him off sharply. Her tone rose an octave, slamming into the eardrums of everyone in the hall. "Delayed for three months. Three months! You’re busy minding my sleep schedule, yet you fail at the most basic of tasks?!"
Rodric’s face flushed crimson. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kaelia gave him no room to breathe.
"If you want to discuss cheap gossip, lay the evidence on this table," Kaelia pressed. Her hand gripped the back of Rodric’s chair—an undeniable gesture of physical dominance. "But if you’re using rumors to cover up your own incompetence... remember this well. That seat is a privilege, not a birthright. I can strip it from you this very second."
Silence.
Absolute silence swallowed the room. Rodric was completely shut down. His courage shriveled away entirely under the crushing Aura of the Flame Queen. The young man could only stare down at the table, his jaw clenched tight.
The girl straightened her back, preparing to return to her seat with an absolute victory.
However, Zenithar wasn’t done playing with her today.
BAM!
The heavy double oak doors were shoved open violently.
Every head snapped toward the entrance. Kaelia halted right in the middle of the room.
Ethan Valen strolled in.
The young man walked in with an infuriatingly casual gait. Both hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his black trousers. His shirt sleeves were carelessly rolled up to his elbows, and his dark brown hair was a messy bedhead. His deep brown eyes swept across the room that was now struck by a deathly hush.
Ethan came to a halt right in the center of the hall, cutting off the distance between the council table and the door. His eyes locked onto Kaelia.
"This is a closed-door Student Council assembly, Valen," Kaelia said. She forced her voice to sound as cold as ice, despite a faint tremor in her tone. "You have no right to be here. Get out."
Ethan wasn’t offended in the slightest. Instead, he simply tilted his head. An incredibly annoying—yet dangerously magnetic—smirk formed on his lips.
"Tch. Sorry to interrupt your important meeting, President," Ethan replied, his deep voice carrying a lazy drawl. "I just dropped by to make sure you didn’t forget... something... in my room."
BOOM.
The words detonated like a high-tier spell right in the middle of the room.
Kaelia’s eyes widened in shock before her jaw clenched shut. A few council members choked on their own spit, eyes bulging in pure disbelief.
Without bothering to wait for Kaelia’s response, Ethan raised two fingers to his temple in a mocking mock-salute. He then turned around casually, strolled out, and shut the doors behind him without a care in the world.
The permanent damage was done.
Kaelia might have won her political debate. But Ethan’s single sentence had just delivered an absolute message that crushed everything else.
The rumors were no longer just gossip. It was a declaration of ownership.
The assembly was dismissed less than fifteen minutes later. Kaelia adjourned it with an icy tone, completely ignoring the wild gazes of her council members.
She stormed out of the assembly hall at a half-sprint. Her heels hammered against the marble floor with pure fury. She turned into a deserted side corridor, and sure enough—the culprit was waiting right there.
Ethan was leaning casually against a marble pillar, his arms crossed over his chest.
Kaelia lunged at him instantly. Both of her hands roughly grabbed the collar of Ethan’s black shirt, slamming him back against the pillar.
"You made things worse on purpose, you bastard!" Kaelia hissed fiercely, her golden eyes blazing. "I had it all under control! And you came in to ruin it with that cheap provocation?!"
Ethan didn’t put up a fight at all. He simply stared into Kaelia’s furiously flushed face. Slowly, one of Ethan’s hands came up, resting over Kaelia’s hand that was gripping his collar.
"You did silence that little dog in there," Ethan replied calmly. "But they would’ve kept biting you from the back. Whispers would only make you look cheap in the eyes of the nobility."
A vein bulged on Kaelia’s temple. "Then what do you gain from doing that?!"
"Fear."
That single word rolled smoothly off Ethan’s lips. "Small rumors invite questions. Massive rumors... create terror. From today onward, they will know that you are mine. And absolutely no one in this academy messes with what belongs to me."
Kaelia’s grip trembled, then slowly loosened.
The argument was sickening, yet irrefutable. In Zenithar’s predatory ecosystem, being the Demon King’s pet was vastly safer than being a lone, bleeding wolf.
Kaelia let go of his collar, lightly smoothing out the wrinkles on Ethan’s shirt with whatever was left of her pride. Her gaze remained sharp, but all resistance had burned out.
"I hate you," Kaelia muttered hoarsely.
Ethan offered a faint smile. He reached out, briefly patting the top of the Flame Queen’s head. It was a simple touch, yet it successfully made the Lust Brand on Kaelia’s stomach throb once more in response to its master.
"Finish up your business. I have another toy waiting upstairs."
Ethan didn’t return to his dorm. He walked down the corridor toward the end of the wing, climbing the steep stone spiral staircase winding upward.
His footsteps fell in a steady, silent rhythm. The higher he climbed, the more the biting cold of the tower’s stones pierced his skin.
He pushed open the heavy iron door at the top of the stairs, stepping out onto the peak balcony of the Main Tower.
The harsh winter wind immediately slapped his face. Zenithar’s sky churned in shades of gray. From this altitude, the entire academy grounds sprawled out like a miniature map, all the way to the main gates in the distance.
Ethan leaned his elbows on the stone parapet, staring straight at the horizon.
At the end of the main road that carved through the mist, the glow of carriage lanterns grew larger. It wasn’t just any noble carriage. Its silver plating gleamed. Two black warhorses pulled it haughtily, flying the flag of the Royal Palace faction.
Down below, the academy gatekeepers scrambled in a panic to open the massive iron barricades.
Ethan watched it all unfold without blinking.
"Fufufu... the stench of the Royal lapdogs’ carriage can be smelled from miles away, My Lord," the raspy voice of the Asmodeus System echoed in his mind. "Bad luck is lining up to escort you to a brand new stage."
Ethan took a deep breath, inhaling the freezing northern air.
"Good," Ethan muttered to the howling wind. "Send out your best pawns. The chessboard is ready."
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