The heavy library doors closed behind me with a soft, final thud, but the silence of the hallowed halls offered no sanctuary. The confrontation had left a bitter taste in my mouth, a mixture of triumph and a strange, hollow ache. I had drawn my lines, declared my independence, and burned the bridge back to the Crimson family. It was what I needed to do.
So why did it feel like I had just set myself on fire?
I walked through the sun-drenched corridors of the Academy, my footsteps echoing in the quiet. I left Aurelia standing there, her kind eyes wide with a mixture of shock and hurt. I had been cruel, deliberately so. It was a necessary cruelty, a surgical strike designed to sever the last ties to a past that wasn't mine. Attachments were liabilities, and I couldn't afford a single one.
But it was the image of my sister, Lucielle, that haunted me. Her face, usually a mask of cold, arrogant pride, had shattered like glass, revealing the raw, wounded girl beneath.
She stood in front of me now, having followed me from the library, her form trembling—not with anger, but with something far worse. Something that looked dangerously like heartbreak.
"Where… where were you?" she whispered, her voice so fragile it threatened to break. Her golden eyes, usually so sharp and judgmental, were glossy with unshed tears. "Do you have any idea what Mom's been going through? What happened to us after you just… left?"
I cut her off, my voice a blade of ice. "You've got the wrong person. I don't have a mom."
Her face crumbled. The sound that escaped her lips was a choked, wounded gasp. Then—SMACK.
Her palm collided with my cheek, the sound sharp and shocking in the silent corridor. The pain was a dull throb, easily ignored. Her sobbing voice, however, was a dagger to the heart.
"Why are you doing this?! Why are you pretending?! You're Ashen Crimson! You're my brother!"
"I said," I growled, my own control snapping. I grabbed her wrists, my grip tight, and peeled her fingers from my collar. "It's none of your business anymore."
Her tears fell harder, hot and desperate against my cold skin, but I didn't let go. I couldn't. If I did, I was afraid the walls I had so carefully constructed around my heart would come crashing down.
"I'm done with this shit," I snarled, the words tasting like venom. "I don't need your petty, belated sympathy. I'm not the weak, naive, bullied Ashen Crimson you all remember. That version of me is dead. He died the day his own family turned their backs on him."
I stepped back, releasing her as if she were poison. I took a deep, shuddering breath, the air burning in my lungs.
"I'm just Ashen now," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "A name I'll carve into the very stones of this academy, this empire—no, the world."
I turned away, my cloak swirling around me, but I paused, delivering one last, crushing blow. "Tell your father this: he'll regret every single decision he made. Every word of scorn, every moment of neglect. He wanted a powerful heir? He's about to get one."
She opened her mouth, a desperate plea forming on her lips, but I cut her off again.
"After the exam results are announced… then you'll understand what I mean. Tell your perfect little family and all those sycophant servants to sit close to their magical TVs and watch. Watch me reign. Watch me conquer. Because I will take the top spot in this academy. No one is stopping me."
With that, I walked out, leaving both my sister and Aurelia behind, two silent, broken statues in the sunlit corridor.
I collapsed onto the lumpy mattress of my inn room, the cheap fabric scratching against my skin. I stared up at the water-stained ceiling, my heart a frantic, panicked drum in my chest.
"Maybe I got carried away," I muttered to the empty room. "Rank 1? Yeah, sure… maybe in a different life." My bravado in the hallway felt like a distant memory, replaced by the cold, hard reality of my situation. I was alone, outmatched, and running on nothing but spite and a dead man's memories.
DING!
The familiar, ethereal chime of the System echoed in my mind, and a translucent screen flickered to life before my eyes.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: NEW QUEST GENERATED]
[ACADEMY CONQUEST - PHASE 1]
▸ Objective 1 (Written Exam): Achieve a rank in the Top 10.
▸ Reward: All Core Attributes +10.
▸ Objective 2 (Physical Exam): Achieve a rank in the Top 10.
▸ Reward: All Core Attributes +20.
▸ Bonus Objective (Combined Rank): Achieve Rank #1 Overall.
▸ Reward: [???] Elemental Affinity Unlocked.
I groaned, burying my face in the lumpy pillow. "System, you're doing this on purpose, right? You're teasing me with your damn carrot-on-a-stick quests."
[Affirmative. Positive reinforcement has been shown to improve host motivation. Enjoy the psychological torment.]
"Well whatever," I grumbled. "The written exam reward is mine. I can handle that. For the rest… I don't care."
DING!
[SYSTEM ALERT: QUEST FAILED - Charm-based Influence]
[Your recent interaction with Lucielle Crimson and Aurelia has resulted in a significant loss of social capital.]
[ATTRIBUTE PENALTY APPLIED: Charm has decreased from S-Rank to D-Rank.]
"WHAT?! No! My only damn weapon!" I grabbed the pillow and screamed into it, a muffled, frustrated sound. "I'm doomed! Who are you, system?! Show yourself! I need to curse you out properly!"
[The System is a feature, not a friend. Please direct all complaints to the non-existent feedback department.]
"…You smug little bastard."
I clenched my fists, the fabric of the cheap blanket groaning in protest. There was no time to mope. I had less than two days before the written exam, and a little over a week before the physical trial. Time to train.
The next day, I woke up early. Well, early by my standards. 11:00 a.m.
I dragged my aching body to the academy's public training grounds, a sprawling expanse of packed earth, scarred training dummies, and enchanted weight machines. I was determined to grind like never before.
My goal? Control. I had a monstrous, SS-rank mana capacity, a veritable ocean of power. But my body was a leaky, fragile dam. Every time I tried to channel a significant amount of shadow mana, my body turned traitor. Nausea would churn in my stomach, my vision would swim, and sometimes, if I pushed too hard, I'd feel the sharp, coppery taste of internal bleeding. I couldn't afford that in the Battle Royale.
I needed to be able to summon my Shadow Army, including the powerful Volkin, and keep them on the battlefield for at least thirty minutes without collapsing like a wet noodle.
So I trained.
And trained.
And puked.
And bled.
And swore.
And puked again.
I pushed myself past the point of exhaustion, my arms feeling like jelly, my head pounding with a relentless migraine. But I didn't stop. I couldn't.
Even if it killed me, I wouldn't let my S-rank charm be the only thing I was known for.
As the sun set, casting long, bloody shadows across the training grounds, I finally collapsed against a cold boulder, my body screaming in protest. The system pinged again, a quiet, almost sympathetic chime.
DING!
[USER STATUS PANEL – UPDATED]
Name: Ashen Crimson
Rank: D
Level: 3 (EXP: 40/100)
➤ ATTRIBUTES:
▸ Physical Strength: C
▸ Mana: SS
▸ Agility & Speed: D
▸ Charm: D (Recently Decreased)
▸ Luck: E
➤ AFFINITIES:
▸ Shadow (Synchronization: 48%)
▸ ???
▸ ???
➤ SKILLS & FAMILIARS:
▸ Shadow Bind, Shadow Bomb, Shadow Creation
▸ Shadow Army (Innate) – Familiars: Volkin (C-Rank), Goblin, Kobold x2, Lizardman
I looked up at the dark, star-dusted sky. "Top 10, huh… You better be worth it, system."
[Failure to meet quest objectives may result in further attribute degradation. For example, a reduction in your already abysmal Luck stat.]
"…I hate you."