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"Haaa! That stupid bastard! How dare he steal my glory!"
The blue-haired boy, Cedric stomped through the dimly lit hallway toward his dorm, his fists clenched at his sides.
His mind churned with frustration, the memory of that humiliating day replaying over and over like a curse.
Two days ago, The black-haired upstart from Class D2 Victor had done the impossible.
He had defeated Jessica, the leader of Class D1, without even using a blessing. Without.
'Even, Using, A Blessing. '
Meanwhile, Cedric had struggled against a nobody some weakling whose name he hadn't even bothered to remember.
And worst of all? He had to use his own blessing to win.
It wasn't fair.
It should have been his moment.
His name should have echoed through the academy as the rising star of Class D.
He should have been the one to shock the instructors, to stand above the rest.
But no, instead, everyone whispered about Victor, Victor this, Victor that. Some nobody with a commoner's name had stolen his spotlight.
"Tch. As if that freak deserves it."
Jessica hadn't even used her blessing against him.
If she had fought seriously, Victor would have been crushed beneath her hammer.
There was no way some random, talentless nobody could just walk in and surpass noble blood like mine.
He reached his dorm and slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing through the empty space.
His room was spacious far more luxurious than what the lesser students had. A private training area, a grand living room, and a separate bedroom.
It was befitting of someone like him, someone meant for greatness.
As he strode into his training room, he grabbed a wooden sword and swung it aggressively at the air, picturing Victor's smug face in front of him.
"Just wait. Once I put that arrogant girl in her place and claim my rightful position as class leader, I'll be unstoppable." His grip tightened around the sword.
"With that title, I'll get access to better training, better resources, better opportunities. Those pathetic worms in Class D will bow to me, just like they should have from the start."
He smirked, tossing the sword aside and making his way toward the bathroom.
"And Victor? He's nothing but a fluke. A freak accident. Once I'm at the top, I'll make sure everyone forgets his name. He'll be nothing but a stepping stone on my path to greatness."
The warm water cascaded over him as he showered, but his thoughts burned with ambition. He would rise. He would dominate. He would take back the spotlight that belonged to him.
And if Victor stood in his way?
Then he'd make sure that fool regretted ever setting foot in this academy.
The moment the lights cut out, a chill ran down Cedric's spine.
His instincts flared as his mind raced to make sense of the situation.
"Did the power go out?"
No, that was impossible.
The academy had a powerful backup system there was no way the entire dorm would be plunged into darkness. That meant only one thing.
An assassination.
Cedric's breath hitched for just a moment, but his training took over. Every noble child had experienced at least one attempt on their life.
It was an unspoken rule of high society if you had power, someone would always try to take it away.
His face hardened, all traces of arrogance vanishing. This was real.
In a flash, he burst out of the bathroom, his bare feet slamming against the cold floor.
His bathrobe fluttered as he sprinted toward the weapon rack, barely clothed in nothing but short pants and the loose robe.
His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly as he forced himself to steady his breath.
His heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through his veins, but his mind remained sharp.
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, the silence more oppressive.
He moved instinctively, his body shifting into a defensive stance as his senses sharpened.
Every shadow in the room now felt alive, every creak of the floorboards a potential warning.
He knew the drill nobles didn't survive long without learning to navigate the treacherous waters of power and betrayal.
'How the hell did an assassin get past academy security?'
The Lumina Academy of Hero Arts was one of the most secure academies in the world, home to future warlords, generals, and prodigies.
Getting past the outer defenses was nearly impossible, let alone slipping into a noble's private quarters.
'Unless... someone on the inside let them in.'
A scowl twisted his face as realization dawned.
"Tsk... Come out, whoever you are." His voice was steady, but his muscles were tensed, ready to strike at the first sign of movement.
"I know my brother sent you."
His grip on the sword tightened.
Cedric took a cautious step back, his senses on high alert—only to feel something thin and taut press against his ankle.
A wire.
His eyes barely had time to widen before a barrage of knives came hurtling toward him from multiple angles. The gleam of steel reflected in his pupils as he reacted on pure instinct.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
With a decisive, fluid motion, he swung his sword in rapid succession, deflecting each incoming blade with expert precision.
Sparks flashed in the darkness as metal clashed against metal, the force of each impact reverberating up his arm.
But just as he steadied himself, ready to counterattack, a door—an actual floating door appeared above him out of nowhere.
"What the—?!"
Before he could dodge, the door slammed down onto his head with a heavy
THUNK!
The sheer absurdity of the attack stunned him more than the pain itself.
"The hell is this?!"
Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword upward in an arc, slicing clean through the wooden door and sending its halves clattering to the floor.
His heart pounded in his chest as he whipped his gaze around, trying to locate his attacker.
And then, he saw him.
Perched casually by the open window, standing with effortless confidence, was the one person Cedric loathed more than anyone else.
'Victor.'
The dark-skinned boy grinned down at him, his expression dripping with amusement.
His devilish smile practically mocked him, as if this entire thing was nothing more than a game.
That smirk that insufferable, arrogant smirk lit a fire of rage inside Cedric.
His vision blurred with fury as his grip tightened around his sword.
Without a second thought, he lunged.
"HOW DARE YOU?!"
Fueled by pure rage, he charged straight at Victor, sword raised, ready to cut him down.
But in his blind anger, he failed to see the next set of wires strung invisibly across the floor.
The moment his foot connected, the trap snapped into action.
Thin but incredibly strong threads wrapped around his limbs, yanking tight in an instant.
His momentum was cut off violently as his body jerked to a sudden stop.
"Tsk—!"
Cedric struggled, twisting against the restraints, but the more he moved, the tighter the wires dug into his skin.
Victor, still standing by the window, laughed.
"Wow. You fell for it that easily? And here I thought you were supposed to be a noble."
Cedric's blood boiled. His muscles strained as he fought against the wires, his teeth grinding together in frustration.
"You bastard!"
But Victor only tilted his head, that smug smile never leaving his face.
"Now, now. Play nice, Cedric." His voice was laced with mockery.
"This is just the beginning."
In his fit of rage, Cedric didn't hesitate.
With a single sweeping motion of his hand, he activated his blessing—and his entire body exploded with water.
A surge of liquid burst from his skin, expanding outward in violent torrents.
The air around him became thick with moisture, the temperature dropping slightly as the water swirled to life. He was the storm, and Victor was about to drown in it.
That was his Blessing "Blessing of the Wave."
With practiced control, he shaped the water, guiding it into a powerful, undulating wave that surged forward like a living beast.
The liquid pulsed in a rhythmic motion, a synchronized dance of destruction, crashing toward Victor with relentless force.
Cedric moved with the wave, using it as a shield, his body concealed behind the rushing torrent.
His feet barely touched the ground as he surged forward, blade in hand.
The moment the wave collided with Victor, Cedric struck.
His sword gleamed under the dim moonlight as it sliced straight through Victor's torso, cleaving him in half with a single, decisive motion.
For a moment, silence.
Then Victor's body dissolved into shimmering mana dust.
A fake.
"What?!" Cedric's eyes widened, barely having time to process the deception before—
Cold steel pressed against his neck.
A sharp knife.
The sensation of the blade, precise and deadly, sent a shiver down his spine.
Behind him, Victor.
His voice was maddeningly calm, laced with amusement.
"You really thought it'd be that easy?"
"I win... Hehheheh."
Victor's voice dripped with amusement, but beneath it lay something far more sinister something that crawled under Cedric's skin like an unseen predator waiting to pounce.
"Now," Victor continued, his tone smooth yet unrelenting, "let's talk, shall we?"
A chill ran down Cedric's spine. It wasn't just the words it was the way he said them. Low, deliberate, with the kind of confidence that only a hunter had when its prey was completely ensnared.
For the first time in his life, Cedric felt like prey.
This entire time…
He had been dancing in Victor's palm.
Like a marionette on invisible strings, he had reacted exactly as Victor had wanted the anger, the reckless charge, the blessing-fueled assault... all of it had been orchestrated.
And now?
Now he stood there, trapped, blade at his throat, his every move accounted for.
Victor had turned him into a fool without him even realizing, until it too late.
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