anwhile, a short distance from the grand hall, Aaron was shaking in his boots.
Literally.
His legs would not stop trembling as he walked down the corridor beside Arthur.
"How the hell did I get myself into this situation..." Aaron muttered under his breath.
He had thought the exam was over.
He had thought the biggest danger was behind them.
He had been wrong.
Because now Arthur was standing in front of Adrian Evan Imperius.
Blocking their way.
Adrian stood in the middle of the academy corridor like a wall—hands folded behind his back, expression cold, eyes fixed on Arthur alone. The aura leaking from him was calm, refined... and suffocating.
Arthur’s own aura stirred in answer, barely under control.
He knew.
He knew he was still nowhere near the level of the man standing in front of him.
His instincts scread at him to step back.
He didn’t.
"Old man," Arthur said, staring Adrian dead in the eyes. "Are you deaf or sothing?"
His voice echoed faintly in the quiet corridor.
"Just get out of the way," Arthur continued. "How many tis do I have to tell you?"
Aaron swallowed.
’He really said it,’ Aaron thought. ’He actually said it...’
Adrian’s expression did not change.
No anger.
No surprise.
Just a cold, unreadable stare.
The longer that silence stretched, the more visible the difference in weight between them beca. Arthur’s mana felt wild, sharp, uncontrolled at the edges. Adrian’s presence was the opposite—dense and suffocating, but perfectly contained, like an ocean compressed into a single step.
Arthur clicked his tongue.
"Fine," he said at last. "I’ll just change the way."
He turned, intending to take another path deeper into the academy hall.
Adrian’s voice cut through the air behind him.
"It seems you’re worth sothing after all," Adrian said.
Arthur stopped.
Aaron froze in place.
"I’ll say this only once," Adrian continued, tone still flat. "You don’t have to co back and rejoin the family. Just do so tasks I have for you."
Arthur slowly turned his head back.
He opened his mouth.
But Adrian’s gaze sharpened, and his voice slid in first.
"Think twice before insulting and answering," Adrian said. "Because you want your master to be safe and sound... right?"
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
A dark shadow passed through them.
"If you touch one hair on Yuna’s head," Arthur said quietly, every word laced with killing intent, "I’ll eradicate the entire Imperius lineage myself, you bastard."
Aaron shivered.
He had heard Arthur threaten people before.
This was different.
Adrian smiled.
It was a small, thin smile—but it made the air feel colder.
"You should have said that to your grandfather," Adrian replied. "Who knows what is happening to her right now."
For the first ti in a long ti, Arthur felt it.
Bone‑chilling fear.
It crawled up from his spine, wrapped around his chest, and squeezed. His hands clenched tightly enough for his nails to bite into his palms, but he barely felt it. His mind raced, a dozen scenarios flashing through—Yuna’s dominating presence, her calm face, the way she always smiled when he was around.
’What If he’s bluffing... but if he’s not...then’
His thoughts snarled.
In front of him, Adrian watched his reaction carefully, eyes asuring, weighing.
Aaron stood rigid between them, heart pounding so loudly it felt like the whole corridor could hear it.
He had never felt more out of place in his life.
Between the man who had thrown Arthur away—
Aaron realized sothing very clearly.
This, right here, was more dangerous than anything inside the simulation.
-----------
Inside the Imperius family manor, the main dining hall glead with cold luxury.
A long, polished table stretched almost the entire length of the room, chandeliers casting soft light over engraved pillars and walls lined with the portraits of dead Imperius ancestors. Silverware and crystal glasses had been set out perfectly, but no food had been served.
This was not a al.
It was a eting.
At the head of the table sat Agnus Evan Imperius.
His back was straight, hands resting lightly on the armrests of his chair. His grey hair and sharp features gave him an air of authority that filled the room more completely than the chandeliers’ light.
Beside him, on his right, sat a handso young man with beautiful golden hair and refined features.
Lucas Evan Imperius.
Across from Lucas sat a pink‑haired woman with calm, steel‑grey eyes.
Yuna Akatsuki.
All three of them had their gazes fixed on the massive holographic screen floating above the center of the table.
The live feed of Celestia Academy’s entrance exam played there—the final battle, the collapse of the forest‑city, Arthur and Aaron’s shared elimination.
The mont the simulation ended and the light faded, the hall fell silent.
Then Lucas suddenly stood up.
He began clapping loudly, the sound echoing off marble and gold.
"I cannot believe that useless brother of mine achieved a feat like this," Lucas said, voice thick with exaggerated emotion.
Fake tears shimred in his eyes as he turned toward Yuna.
"Miss Yuna," Lucas said. "It was all possible only because of you. I will be eternally grateful to you."
Yuna looked at him blankly.
"Spare the act," Yuna said. "Just tell what you want in order to leave Arthur alone."
Lucas’s smile twitched, the fake warmth cracking at the edges.
He opened his mouth to respond—
Agnus lifted his hand.
Lucas fell silent imdiately.
"As expected of her disciple," Agnus said, eyes resting on Yuna. "You have a good head on your shoulders. Your master was a great woman... one of the few who earned my respect."
He linked his fingers together.
"So listen closely to what I am about to say," Agnus continued, "and answer carefully."
His eyes hardened.
"That brat you trained is from the Imperius family," Agnus said. "That makes him our property."
Yuna’s jaw tightened.
"And now he is awakening powers... abilities... all because of the blood that flows in his veins," Agnus went on. "Blood that also flows in mine. In all of us. The sa blood our great ancestors used to build this family from scratch."
Yuna’s voice ca out cold and sharp.
"So let get this straight, Lord Agnus," Yuna said. "After leaving him in this world to fend for himself, when he was struggling and needed his family’s support, now you want him back because he finally made a na for himself?"
Agnus shook his head.
"You misunderstand," Agnus said. "I do not want him back."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"He can do whatever he wants," Agnus continued. "He could die in a ditch tomorrow and I would not care."
His gaze sharpened.
"If I want anything from him, it is the blood flowing in his veins."
Yuna’s eyes narrowed.
"What do you an—"
Then realization clicked.
Her blood ran cold.
Agnus saw it and smiled faintly.
"Looks like you understand," he said.
"You don’t have to worry so much," Agnus continued, tone almost gentle. "I will prepare so fine ladies for him. Won with strong and powerful bloodlines."
He spoke as if discussing breeding horses.
"They will give birth to children with strong genes and abilities," Agnus said. "After he gives us several heirs, you can take him back. You can even marry that bas—"
He did not finish.
Because pure rage crashed through Yuna like a tidal wave.
Her fist slamd into the table.
Boom.
The massive dining table shattered under her blow, splitting cleanly down the middle, broken wood and splinters flying. Plates and cutlery crashed to the floor, crystal glasses exploding into shards.
Agnus and Lucas did not even flinch.
They looked at her with the calm detachnt of people watching a child throw a tantrum.
Agnus regarded her patiently.
"It seems you’ve made your choice," he said.
Yuna’s aura flared, dense and oppressive, swirling around her like a storm. The air in the hall grew heavy; the chandeliers trembled faintly.
"You call yourselves his family," Yuna said, voice trembling with restrained fury. "If you want prostitutes with good talent, I know a lot of people who can arrange them for you."
Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she forced herself to hold back.
"But Arthur," Yuna said, staring Agnus straight in the eye, "is not one of them."
She drew in a slow breath.
"I’ll forget this eting ever happened," Yuna said. "And you will forget about Arthur... Lord Agnus."
Her gaze swept to Lucas, then back.
"And if you cannot," she added, voice low, "then you can prepare yourselves to take him by force."
Her aura sharpened, filling the hall like blades.
"Which I will also gladly welco."
She turned and started walking toward the exit, steps steady despite the anger boiling in her veins.
Lucas’s voice stopped her.
"For that, Miss Yuna," Lucas said lightly, "you have to leave here alive."
He flicked his fingers.
Mana pulsed.
In the next second, ten figures appeared around Yuna—so stepping out from hidden corners, others dropping lightly from the rafters above or erging from stealth spells. They ford a loose circle around her, cutting off every path to the door.
Their auras pressed down like a crushing weight.
Each one radiated danger—sharp, honed bloodlust that spoke of countless battles. Swords, spears, and strange weapons rested easily in their hands. Their eyes were flat and cold, fixed on Yuna as if she were not Arthur’s master, but a target to be removed.
Assassins.
Enforcers.
The Imperius family’s hidden fangs.
A smile ford on Agnus’s face.
"What is your answer now, kid?" Agnus asked calmly.
Yuna slowly turned back.
Her grey eyes were cold enough to freeze steel.
She did not answer imdiately.
But her aura rose higher still, eting the killing intent of ten elite fighters without yielding even an inch.
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