The sun rises, the new day starting at the Royal Academy. The whole academy looks like a shining gem under the sun, glowing brilliantly throughout the capital, appearing nothing less than a grand, enchanted mansion. A soft breeze drifts through the marble corridors, carrying murmurs and excited chatter that fill the academy like a buzzing hive preparing for something monumental.
Girls talking about Asher while walking
"Did you see Sir Asher yesterday?" one girl gasped, clutching her books dramatically.
"Yeah, he was so cool," another replied, her eyes sparkling as if she were recalling a deity rather than a student.
"Hey Sera, why didn't you come yesterday? To see Sir Asher?" a girl asked Seraphina, nudging her with a playful grin.
"I was busy with some work…" Seraphina replied, her voice faint, her cheeks blooming with a soft blush the moment she heard his name. Her fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve.
"Hey, is it true that some low-born noble girl is engaged to Sir Asher?" a girl asked, her tone half curious, half scandalous.
"Hey, that's just a rumour. Won't he be engaged with Rose Draker?" another girl said, rolling her eyes dramatically, as if the idea of Asher choosing anyone lesser was ridiculous.
"What do you think, Seraphina?"
"I…I don't know…" Seraphina murmured, her cheeks reddening further, heart thudding so loudly she feared they could hear it.
"Did you call for me, Dean?" Professor Yena entered, her brows knitted in confusion, sensing an unusual seriousness in the air.
"Yes, Miss Yena, take a seat," Dean Seravane said, his voice low and solemn, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel. Even the ticking clock on the wall seemed to pause.
"May I know why?" Yena asked, sitting down slowly, her confusion deepening.
"You should protect and support Seraphina Hale with the best of your ability. And if you need anything related to her… contact me directly." Seravane's expression remained unreadable—cold, commanding, absolute.
"Wh…why, sir?" Yena stuttered, feeling the weight of something terrifying pressing into the room.
"Because the reason Asher Valcren is here… is Seraphina. If something were to happen to her, God knows what will be unleashed on that household."
His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, yet heavy like thunderclouds.
"Are you saying the Valcren will move against any house just because of a girl? I know they are a powerful family but… they're going to go against other houses because of her?" Yena's voice trembled slightly, disbelief battling fear.
"Professor, you are from a different nation, right?" Seravane asked.
"Yes," Yena answered cautiously.
"Have you read the history of this kingdom, Miss Yena?" The dean leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, I have," she responded, though confusion now mixed with unease.
"Do you know the second strongest house before Draker took that position?" Seravane asked quietly.
"Yes… it was House Stormvein," Yena said, recalling the ancient records.
"And why it got erased from existence?"
"There was a mention of it… it's said that they got tangled with some forbidden magic and got cursed with it, and their bloodline got erased in one night," Yena recited, her voice trailing as she sensed the dean's growing tension.
"What do you think? Is it true?" Seravane's gaze bore into her.
"No… a large house getting vanished in one night is impossible. Even if the curse is strong… and Stormvein was known for their knowledge and mastery of curses," Yena replied, a bead of cold sweat forming at her neck.
"Yes, you are right. It wasn't a curse… it was the doing of monsters disguised as humans."
Seravane's face twisted with a rare, chilling horror.
"What do you mean, Dean?" Yena asked, her voice shrinking, eyes widening as she leaned back in her chair.
"The Valcren did that. They were the curse Stormvein got tangled with." Seravane spoke with a cold sigh that felt like winter settling into the room.
"WHAT!!! WHY?!" Yena screamed, the shock ripping through her face, her breath hitching as the truth struck like lightning.
"Calm down, Miss Yena," Seravane said, lifting a hand with a weary motion, though his voice carried the heaviness of someone who had seen far too much. His shoulders slumped slightly as he sighed again, a long exhale that filled the office with a cold, uneasy stillness.
"The Stormvein was arrogant and prideful… and who wouldn't be?" he continued, his tone low and resonant. "They were one of the most powerful families in the kingdom. Even the king wouldn't dare to challenge them. They had money… power… and knowledge on how to use them. They lacked nothing."
His eyes darkened as if replaying a memory he wished he could forget.
"But the only mistake they made was so minor… yet it caused their entire house to disappear in one night."
Seravane leaned back slowly, the chair creaking under his weight. He tilted his head to the ceiling, staring at it as though the past were carved into the stones above him. A shadow crossed his expression—one that held fear, regret, and a silent warning.
The room felt colder, the walls heavier. Even Yena didn't dare breathe loudly. The mere mention of the Stormvein tragedy was enough to unsettle any scholar—but hearing that the Valcren had been responsible… it shook the very foundation of her beliefs.
"What… what mistake?" Yena whispered cautiously, unable to stop herself.
Seravane didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, as though the truth was a burden too dreadful to speak without gathering strength.
The silence that followed pressed down like a suffocating fog.
Nothing that big. The heir of Stormvein just insulted the personal maid of Samael… and when Samael asked the house Stormvein to apologize and send their heir for punishment, they refused—saying they don't fear the Valcren.
"That was their last mistake," Seravane muttered, voice low, eyes darkening at the memory.
"That was it? Enough to destroy a major house?" Yena's eyes widened, her breath catching.
"Yes." Seravane leaned forward, tone heavy. "The Valcren are far too territorial, far too possessive of what they claim as theirs. There is a saying in the kingdom about them: 'Valcren always protect their own.' The moment you touch what belongs to them… you don't leave without regretting it."
A visible shiver ran through him, the phantom of a night he wished he had never witnessed flashing in his gaze.
"And that is why we should protect Seraphina Hale," Seravane added. "She is important to the house of Valcren."
"So… you're saying Seraphina belongs to the Valcren household?" Yena whispered, fear creeping into her expression.
"Yes. I got the news that Asher has engaged her… and broken the engagement with the Draker household."
Seravane's words dropped like a stone.
Yena froze—completely stunned. She had assumed Seraphina was merely some fortunate noble who managed to stay on Valcren's good side… but to be engaged to the young heir himself? That was beyond anything she imagined.
"I will make sure she receives the utmost care and attention," Yena declared, bowing slightly before hurrying out of the room.
"Valcren in love…" Seravane whispered, his eyes drifting to a portrait on his office wall. "Terrifying beings."
The courtyard near S-Class was overflowing. Students from every department, every dorm, every background had gathered just for a glimpse of Asher Valcren. It felt less like a school day and more like a festival—buzzing whispers, fluttering hearts, eager eyes.
Seraphina stood quietly in a corner, her presence soft yet radiant. The young lady of House Hale—born humble, raised far from luxury—now looked breathtakingly elegant. She didn't need jewels, didn't need grand gestures; she simply existed, and people turned.
"What are all these low-born doing here?" a privileged S-Class kid sneered.
"They're waiting for Asher," another replied.
"There are some good beauties in the lower classes, aren't there?"
"Yes, young master Theo… quite a few."
Theo's eyes swept over the crowd until they stopped—locked—on Seraphina.
"What's the name of the girl standing there?" he asked, pointing at her with a satisfied grin.
"She's Seraphina Hale, from the Borderlands."
"Oh?" Theo's grin widened. "And which class is she in?"
"She's in Class A, young master."
"Hm. I will make her mine."
With that, Theo began walking toward her, arrogance radiating off him like heat.
"Make way for young master Theo!" his henchmen barked, shoving students aside.
Theo reached Seraphina, his smile dripping with entitlement. He grabbed her hand, leaning in as if she were already his.
But Seraphina's expression turned cold—sharper than a blade.
She yanked her hand back, stepped away, and in one swift, instinctive motion—
SLAP!
The sound cracked through the courtyard like lightning.
Silence fell. Every student stared, breath held, hearts pounding.
Theo staggered, disbelief flooding his black eyes.
Seraphina stood firm, her hand still trembling from the force—but her gaze steady, unbowed.
"How dare you hit young master! Do you even know who he is, you fucking bitch?!"
Theo's henchman snarled as he seized Seraphina, forcing her down onto her knees.
"She's lost her mind!" another shouted. "He's the second son of Lord Raymond Nightfall! He could crush your tiny house whenever he wants!"
Seraphina lifted her face, trembling, her eyes meeting Theo's.
He loomed above her, his expression contorted with fury—red, shaking, murderous. The air around him felt poisonous, suffocating. He truly looked as if he might kill her in front of every student present.
"I will destroy your family, you bitch," Theo hissed, leaning closer, his voice venomous. "And I'll kill your parents right in front of your eyes."
Gasps rippled across the courtyard.
Seraphina's heart pounded painfully against her ribs—the world around her blurring. The students stood frozen, their fear rooting them in place. No one stepped forward. No one defended her.
Every mutter from the crowd felt like a dagger.
"The House Hale is done for…"
"She slapped a Nightfall heir…"
"She won't survive this…"
Their whispers wrapped around her like chains, tightening with every second.
Then—
A sudden flash burst from her bracelet.
Blinding, silver-white light erupted from the delicate charm Asher had given her, washing the courtyard in a radiant glow. Students shielded their eyes, stumbling back.
Seraphina felt warmth rush through her wrist—gentle yet overwhelmingly powerful.
And then…
A voice.
Deep. Cold. Unfamiliar yet instantly recognizable to the soul.
From behind her, it echoed like thunder:
"Who dare."
The entire courtyard seemed to stop breathing.
Even the wind froze.
Theo's face drained of color as he slowly turned toward the source of that voice
a presence so heavy and suffocating it felt like the very ground beneath them bowed.