Villain Seduces to Rise in Status

Cale’s stomach was finally satisfied after demolishing three people’s worth of food.

The academy canteen staff had stopped asking questions by his third plate. Well what could they do... even though he may look like a barbarian and a beggar at the same time, he was still a noble.

As he walked back toward the dormitories, the atmosphere shifted abruptly.

Voices rose in the distance—dozens of them, overlapping and tense. His aura sensing picked up the spike in aggression immediately.

The crowd was massive.

At least fifty students had gathered in the central courtyard, a girl with bandaged arms stood at the center, her expression twisted with barely contained fury. Beside her, a boy clenched his fists, equally tense. Something had definitely kicked off.

’A group fight? Or did someone hit his girlfriend? Sigh, people these days.’

"I guess something’s wrong," Cale muttered, his casual afternoon walk forgotten.

Cale’s eyes found Elowen in the crowd first—her pale face half-hidden, eyes wide with concern. Before he could process why she looked so tense, Cale moved closer.

"What, are you scared?" he asked casually.

’Heh, its fun to tease her. From what I heard Elon and her are cousins too. Haah, everyone somehow turns out family these days, not like I’m one to talk.’

She flinched at his sudden appearance, clearly not expecting him.

Then Cale saw it. Elon, bloodied and struggling, getting absolutely demolished by some other student.

The senior who’d become his devoted follower was getting his ass handed to him in front of fifty witnesses.

"Oh shut up!" Elon spat through split lips, refusing to yield despite the obvious beating.

’Of course’, Cale thought with grim amusement. ’That idiot can’t just stay out of trouble can he, its like his bread and butter.’

Cale pushed through the crowd to see Elon squared off against a taller student with dark hair—Lark, if the whispers were accurate.

The fight was already well underway, and it was painfully clear who was winning.

And yeah, they were obviously infusing Qi in their bodies while fighting. Although to keep it as a fair duel, even if it wasn’t, devastating skills were not allowed.

At his current level Cale could at least sense two of the horkens looking from roofs of buildings.

Elon threw a wild punch as fast as he could. Lark sidestepped effortlessly and drove his elbow into Elon’s ribs.

The senior gasped, stumbling backward, but refused to go down.

He pressed forward again, this time trying a low kick. Lark simply raised his knee to block, the impact rattling up Elon’s leg without affecting him at all.

"Come on!" Elon spat blood between clenched teeth, his stubbornness the only thing keeping him upright.

Lark circled him methodically, not even breathing hard. Every attack Elon threw—wild, desperate, increasingly panicked—was met with a counter that sent him reeling. A punch to the shoulder. A knee to the stomach.

Elon’s left eye was already swelling shut. His breathing came in ragged gasps.

He tried to grab Lark’s collar to grapple, but Lark simply pivoted and drove his palm straight into Elon’s chest. The force sent him flying backward, crashing into the dirt.

Elon rolled to his knees, coughing. Still, he got back up.

"Still want more?" Lark asked, almost bored.

Elon’s response was another charge—reckless, desperate.

Lark caught him mid-rush, grabbed his arm, and hurled him over his shoulder. Elon hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs completely.

This time, he didn’t get back up for a long time, but guess what... Elon looked at him, as if saying "Look, I didn’t go down without a fight."

Cale watched the aftermath with a flat expression, and many others noticed Elon’s gaze on him.

’Idiot’, he thought. ’What the hell did you get yourself into this time? Why am I surrounded by dumbasses?!’

The courtyard erupted the moment Lark’s fist connected with Elon’s jaw—again.

Elowen’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade, her composure shattering as she watched her cousin crumple.

"E-Elon... Lark isn’t this enough, you’re picking fights just to satisfy yourself!"

And Cale, watching from the crowd’s periphery with blood still drying on his collar, understood perfectly what came next.

’Haah, fuck!.’

Cale sighed heavily, watching the chaos with the detachment of someone observing insects in a jar.

He pushed through the crowd cornering a nervous-looking first-year near the courtyard’s edge. The kid spilled everything within minutes—oh how fun it was intimidating people in same year.

Elon was favored by the vice headmaster. Everyone knew that.

But apparently, there was a girl—someone with decent status and well, as obvious Lark liked her.

Until she confessed to Elon instead. First confession Elon had ever received, the idiot probably didn’t even know what to do with it.

Lark didn’t take rejection well.

Instead of accepting defeat like a normal person, he’d done something spectacularly childish.

He’d stolen undergarments from the workers’ department—women’s intimate clothing from that entire block—and planted them in Elon’s quarters.

Then, using Elon’s name as cover, he’d gone around beating commoners and academy students alike. Even taking money from them.

And the brilliant part? The horkens wouldn’t intervene.

Technically, Lark had committed crimes using Elon’s identity.

Technically, investigating those crimes meant searching Elon’s room.

Technically, finding stolen goods there before Elon even knew what happened justified the beating as "righteous punishment."

Welcome to the world of Politics, the woman wearing the blindfold? Yeah, she’s actually blind. Truth is what you show to the world, even if everyone knows what the real truth is.

It was a pathetic and childish strategy, but to start a duel between two kids- both the sons of Emperor’s ministers, this was enough reason.

Cale turned away without another word, walking towards the dormitories with deliberate casualness.

’Heh, not my problem if you can’t even save your ass from such bullshit.’

Just because Elon had attached himself like a limpet didn’t mean Cale owed him anything.

’Even if Lark is Mid Advance stage—same as me. Even if he thinks I should jump in just because we made eye contact. That doesn’t obligate—’

His internal monologue stuttered to a halt as two voices drifted toward him from behind a wooden pillar.

"I heard he even stole Lady Emily’s underwear."

"Eww, even if Lark did it to frame him, why dishonor her like that? She’s the most revered girl with highest talent on campus. These guys are so... hmph!"

Something inside Cale snapped.

The grin started small—a twitch at the corner of his mouth that bloomed into something feral and wide.

He turned on his heel slowly, hands clasping behind his back as he began walking back toward the courtyard. A low whistle escaped his lips, almost cheerful in its malice.

’Stole her underwear too. This bastard really did it.’

His emotions were a complete mess—he knew that about himself.

Cale shook his head.

Yes, Cale was a possessive, uncaring yet obsessive, narcissistic, pathetic, shameless and an ungrateful bastard.

He didn’t care much about people unless he did care about them, even a bit. Because that bit, small as it though may be, would make him do whatever he can for the person.

...Unless he decides its not worth it of course.

’I’m too kind for my own sake’, he thought bitterly,

Cale walked through the crowd like he owned the courtyard, his movements casual despite the weight of attention settling on him like snow.

Every head turned as he passed—was he getting involved?

He didn’t acknowledge any of it. Just kept moving, hands still clasped behind his back, that dangerous smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

The horkens on the rooftops shifted, noting his approach.

Even Lark paused mid-punch, turning to track this new variable entering his carefully orchestrated chaos.

Cale stopped at the courtyard’s edge, still smiling, waiting.

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