"Hounds greet the Commander!"
"Hounds greet the commander!"
Students wearing the same uniform, a full black coat with silver or gold lining depending on their rank.
At the bottom, white pants.
This uniform showed which faction they belonged to.
One of the four official squads.
Hounds.
They stood in salute, facing each other as a lane opened between them.
A welcome gesture to greet their commander.
Cyrus Volford.
The Commander of the Hounds.
And soon he arrived. Wearing a luxurious black coat, completely different in design from that of his Hounds. A white fur veil with the symbol of a hound, which marked his position as commander.
His cold eyes stared ahead, showing no attention to his followers, as he walked towards the Arena without a care.
'Fuckk~ Like in the novel, it really is grand.'
It was his first time receiving such a welcome. An uncontrollable smile almost broke across his lips.
He was excited.
But before anyone could notice, he covered his smile. For him it was new, but for Cyrus it was a normal day.
It would raise suspicion if he was seen acting out of character.
Through the novel he was always shown as nonchalant, cold, arrogant, young master type.
And in front of so many eyes, he had to keep that mask.
The Arena.
Not only his squad, but also first years, second years, and people from other official squads were here.
Today countless eyes were on him. This was the show he had planned.
If he wanted to attract new talent, this was necessary.
Well,
Even after waiting a whole day, no system or such golden finger, the common stuff that transmigrator is blessed with had appeared.
Not that he cared.
He had already accepted it.
If heaven doesn't favor him, so be it. He doesn't need them. He himself is enough.
Cyrus was lost in thought, but a soft feminine voice broke it.
"Vice Commander greets the Commander."
She was the Vice Commander of the Hounds, an insanely talented knight he had personally picked.
Not only strong, but also a top-tier beauty. But her small bust was a disappointment.
"So, have you done what I asked?"
"Yes. I arranged the duel you wanted. Though I had to pull some strings to cancel the scheduled one."
"Well done. Who's the one I'll be against?"
"Arc Stalon. Mainland born but raised among the North Tribe. And Squad commander of first-rate squad 'OG.' "
"OG? What a lame name. But well, I'll still trust your judgment."
"Yes, you can rest assured. He's talented enough to not be a disappointment."
With a short nod, Cyrus climbed the Arena stairs.
It was the official dueling ground of UN's Academy, and it lived up to its name. Huge and reinforced enough to withstanding even Grandmaster-grade attacks.
It was an elevated ground, so all the audience were now clearly visible to Cyrus.
Some were commenting, some whispering, many excited. But apart from the masses, those seated in the VIP area had straight faces, no expression at all.
But,
Surprisingly, he didn't feel even an ounce of pressure from such a huge audience. Maybe it was because he had already started adapting to Cyrus's body.
"I am here, Sir Cyrus."
Cyrus's gaze turned toward the voice.
Arc Stalon was already there.
White long hair. Blue eyes framing a handsome face. Wearing an elegantly designed white outfit that suited his whole look.
*****
Away from the Arena, in the VIP chamber, a red-haired girl of similar age to Cyrus sat on a luxurious chair while her core squad members stood beside her.
Althea Valcrest.
Young lady of the noble Valcrest household.
And also the Commander of the strongest, rank-one squad, Heavenly Court.
The Heavenly Court's High Palatine.
Ever nonchalant, today her gaze was locked on to but a single man.
Cyrus Volford.
Clear disappointment or maybe even unhidden hate, was visible on her face.
"What's even the point of this? Like always, he'll just exploit the powers of his Karmic Eye like a coward instead of fighting fair." She voiced with clear scoff.
"But he does have an unusually high life force to sustain it, Wouldn't it be natural for anyone to exploit it then?," one of her members muttered.
Seeing Althea's boiling anger, she shut her mouth immediately.
Althea was a mage and thus naturally disliked Cyrus, the common enemy of mages. But what turned that dislike into hate was his twisted nature.
Her philosophy led toward justice, equality and fair opportunity. Cyrus was complete opposite. He used underhanded means, boasted his status and played dirty politics.
There was no match between them.
And yet her father…
Had set her marriage with him.
Though not official yet, her father constantly pressured her to send her acceptance.
Among the common audience, there was another pair of eyes burning with the same intensity of hate toward Cyrus.
The newbies, first years, were excited. They came from different classes, different backgrounds,
but one reality was the same for them:
The rarity of Absolute Art.
None of them had ever seen it before.
And today, they might have the chance.
The Volford's Absolute Art.
Singularity.
One of the four Absolute Arts.
And they would witness a top-class fight between the academy's rising star and the rumored sword genius.
So the hype and excitement was as expected.
But in the corner, a green-haired boy had a different notion. After so long, seeing the face of the man who gave him so many nightmares, frustration boiled inside him.
His hands trembled with sheer anger he couldn't control.
"Brother, please stop. That devil is the young master of a noble house and also a commander. You shouldn't chase it anymore. Please… you're the only one I have left in this world."
The girl beside him spoke with a sob. The trauma Cyrus had caused her was so heavy she couldn't even bear to look at him. Yet she didn't want her brother to throw away his life over it.
If it meant living with the trauma, so be it. She wouldn't lose any more of her family.
"Julie, I promise you. That time I was powerless. But now I have Sys-- hmm… no. I will make sure he pays tenfold for what he's done to you."