Chapter 2: The Weakest Crown Prince
The royal academy's gates loomed before me—tall, ornate, and intimidating. Wrought with enchanted iron and blessed with old runes, they radiated a quiet warning: only the worthy may pass.
Students from noble families and ancient bloodlines walked with pride, their robes embroidered with crests of lineage and power. The air itself shimmered faintly with magic. Laughter, ambition, and the scent of arrogance thickened the atmosphere.
And then there was me—Arno Daven. The "trash prince." The whispered embarrassment of the Carbol Kingdom.
If only they knew the truth...
If only they could see the blood-soaked path I had crawled through to return.
Feona tugged at my cloak, pulling me out of the fog in my mind.
"Stop spacing out. You're not dreaming anymore."
"Just admiring the architecture," I muttered, masking the deeper storm behind my eyes.
Arsia rolled her eyes. "You're the crown prince of Carbol. At least pretend to act like it."
I shrugged. "That's what I'm doing. Pretending."
The academy stood at the heart of six kingdoms—an institution where bloodline met power, and future kings, generals, and warlocks were forged. But I wasn't here to impress professors or polish royal pride.
I was here to observe. To unravel hidden threats.
To find the roots of betrayal… and maybe pull them out, one by one.
We stepped into the grand hall, its ceilings impossibly high, tapestries fluttering with illusions that showed ancient battles and forgotten glories. As we entered, dozens of students turned. Stares. Whispers.
"That's him..."
"The prince who never awakened his mana..."
"How pathetic."
I smiled.
They had no idea I could crush them with a thought.
---
Later that day, during orientation, a voice cracked across the room like a whip.
"Arno Daven."
I looked up.
A tall man clad in silver armor strode forward, his stare colder than winter steel. Instructor Vale. A war veteran with a reputation of breaking both rules and students.
"You've been placed in Class F."
Arsia's eyes widened. "Class F? That's for failures."
Feona clenched her fists. "That's ridiculous."
I simply nodded. "Fitting."
The truth was, I wanted to be overlooked. Buried in the lowest rung. In the shadows, it's easier to see who's hiding what.
As I walked toward my seat at the far end of the marble hall, Vale's voice echoed again, deliberate and cruel.
"Due to your... unusual circumstances, we'll evaluate your capabilities in one month. If you fail to meet the standard, you'll be expelled."
Perfect.
I didn't plan to stay long anyway.
---
That Night--
The stars above the dormitory shimmered faintly, magic veins pulsing like constellations stitched into the sky. I sat on the balcony, elbows resting on the rail, as silence draped the academy. But inside my mind, there was no peace—only flashes of war, screams of the dying, and the cold, constant weight of memory.
And then—her voice.
"You're hiding something, aren't you?"
Feona stood behind me. Her silver hair caught the moonlight like woven starlight, and for a moment, she looked like someone out of the old world... not this one.
"Shouldn't you be asleep, Princess?" I asked, without turning.
She stepped closer. "You've changed, Arno. You weren't like this before… cold, distant."
I looked at her finally, eyes shadowed. "Maybe dying changes people."
Her gaze softened. "But you didn't die."
"Didn't I?" I whispered.
A long silence followed—one heavy not with anger, but with something unspoken. Something old. Something broken.
"I missed the old you," she finally said.
I stood, brushing past her with a faint smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Then maybe you should've buried me with him."
---
Elsewhere – In Shadows
Far from the academy's glowing towers, buried deep in a forgotten temple, a cloaked figure knelt before a pulsing crystal orb. Around him, whispers slithered through the air like snakes in the dark.
"He has returned," the figure rasped. "Le Arno Daven… the soul who should have perished."
From within the orb, a voice replied—distorted, ancient, and filled with wrath.
"Then he must die again."