Mystic Falls Academy shimmered beneath the noonday sun, its towers casting long shadows across the arcane training grounds. Within the hallowed halls of the Inner Theory Class, Cain sat quietly in the back row, his face as impassive as stone, eyes half-lidded beneath his tousled black hair.
Across from him sat Beatrix Oriana.
Daughter of Grand Duke Oriana. Metal affinity. Prideful. Dangerous.
She had made a mistake.
The lesson had continued undisturbed—Magister Alric's voice droning about energy nodes and spiritual channeling—but moments ago, an invisible war had been waged between Cain and Beatrix. A war she had instigated and lost within the same breath.
While the other students scribbled notes and whispered spells, Beatrix had slipped a glimmering rune-carved bracelet under her desk and activated the Contract of Fellowship—a secret spell normally used to force subservience in lower-ranked cultivators. Subtle, silent, and forbidden by the academy unless willingly accepted.
But Beatrix had not counted on Cain's Shadow Constitution.
The moment the contract's spiritual tether touched Cain's core, the shadows coiled like serpents. They hissed and twisted the spell, rerouting its bind back into her. Her body stiffened, the contract seal burned across her wrist, and a cold sensation drilled into her soul.
No one else noticed. Not even the Magister.
Beatrix's eyes widened. Her lips parted in silent horror.
Cain simply tapped his quill against the desk and kept listening to the lesson.
---
After class ended, the other students left, chattering excitedly about an upcoming sparring tournament. Beatrix remained rooted in her seat.
Cain rose, the faintest smirk at the edge of his lips.
"You were reckless," he said without turning.
Beatrix shot up. "What did you do to me?"
"I warned you with my silence. You didn't listen."
Her breath trembled. "That spell should've enslaved you."
Cain turned slowly, his dark gaze piercing. "Instead, it enslaved you. Quite poetic, don't you think?"
Her wrist was still glowing, a crimson rune pulsing faintly beneath the skin. A true slave mark—only visible to the master and the bound.
Beatrix gritted her teeth. "I'm not your puppet."
"No," Cain agreed. "You're something far more useful: a spy with access to secrets I don't have. And now? You belong to me."
He stepped past her, his shadow brushing hers again.
Beatrix hesitated, torn between fury and fear.
---
That evening, Cain reviewed the interface inside his mind.
---
⟦ TYRANT SYSTEM INTERFACE ⟧
NAME: Cain Azaroth
AGE: 20
AFFINITY: Fire, Darkness, Lightning
CULTIVATION: Low Great Warrior Realm
STATS
STRENGTH: 38
VITALITY: 39
MIND: Infinite Potential (Unlocked Capacity: 34)
ESSENCE POINTS: 390 / 390
ACTIVE SKILLS
Shadow Constitution
Unique Essence Circulation
Embodiment of Chaos (3%)
Synthesis
Dominion Mark (New) – You may exert will over contracted beings. Limited control over body or pain through soul-tether influence.
BONDED BEAST: HELLFANG (Mid Ruler Realm)
Infernal Howl: Weakens enemy morale, boosts allied fire affinity.
Emberstep: Flame-based teleport over short distance.
Beatrix Oriana - Bound
Status: Subjugated (Unwilling)
Affinity: Metal
Talent Grade: High Mortal Tier
Danger Level: Moderate
---
Cain closed the panel.
Laurifer stirred within him, voice laced with wicked amusement. "She'll fight it, of course. They always do. But the more resistance, the deeper the chains bite."
Cain didn't reply.
There was a knock at his dormitory door.
Beatrix stood there, her hair no longer tied in haughty waves but braided simply behind her head. Her uniform had been changed, the metallic lining glinting under the torches of the corridor.
She stepped in uninvited.
"You're smart," she said bitterly. "You waited until I acted first."
Cain leaned against the window frame. "It's easier when enemies brand themselves."
"I'm not your enemy."
He tilted his head. "Then what are you?"
She paused. "A resource."
He chuckled. "Correct."
Beatrix's eyes narrowed. "My father will hear of this."
"No," Cain said, voice dropping. "He won't. Because if he does, I'll activate Dominion Mark. And your tongue will be the first to burn."
She flinched.
"I know what he is," Cain continued, his voice now sharp as ice. "A Grand Duke… and a spy for one of the Supremes. I've been hunting shadows longer than you've been wearing tiaras."
Beatrix stared at him, startled. "How do you—?"
"I am Azaroth," he whispered.
A flicker of silence passed between them.
Then, Beatrix did something unexpected. She dropped her eyes.
"I want to make a deal," she said. "You clearly have plans. I can help you. I know the academy. I know the other students. And... I know the dark things hidden behind these walls."
Cain folded his arms. "And in return?"
"Freedom," she said, voice low. "Eventually. Or at least enough of it to keep my name intact."
Cain considered her.
Laurifer's laughter echoed inside. "Even the proudest metals melt under heat, boy. You've found your blade. Now decide how to wield her."
Cain stepped closer.
"Serve well," he said softly, "and I might loosen your leash. Betray me, and I'll shorten it instead."
Beatrix nodded once.
In her wrist, the rune pulsed.
--