The sun bled gold through the training yard of the outer district, casting long
shadows over Eliar Thorne's trembling form. His body was drenched in sweat, his
hands bruised and bloodied from relentless punches into the old training dummy
he'd made from scavenged scraps. Every muscle screamed in protest, but his
eyes—those sharp, cold eyes—burned with an eerie calm.
After Kyren Vellore's death, everything had changed.
Eliar knew the Vellore family wouldn't rest. They were more than a noble
family—they were a dynasty of power, influence, and pride. They would hunt his
killer, and when they did, their fury would shake the heavens.
So Eliar adapted.
He trained harder than ever before, pushing his limits every day. But more
importantly, he trained his mind. He used the system not only to enhance his
strength and stamina but to upgrade his intelligence stat. With each upgrade,
he felt his thoughts sharpen, strategies forming faster, emotions dulling under
layers of logic. His wrath had not vanished—it had evolved. Now, it simmered
under the surface, waiting for the perfect moment.
In the day, he played the fool. The weak. The unnoticed.
He faked exhaustion. He intentionally failed simple tasks. In classes, he
deliberately acted confused. When other students mocked him, he didn't
retaliate. When they laughed, he looked down and smiled emptily.
But at night—he became a ghost in the training grounds.
One such night, Eliar was practicing a high-speed movement technique near the
shadowed treeline behind the academy. Each step was laced with precision and
silence. But someone was watching.
Luthan Vellore, Kyren's younger brother.
He had grown suspicious—not because Eliar stood out, but because he
didn't.
Luthan, unlike his arrogant peers, was quiet, observant, and brilliant. His
brother had mentioned Eliar once or twice before—not in praise, but as an
annoyance, a bug at the edge of his vision. That memory nagged at
Luther.
And now, here was that same boy, alone, training intensely when no one was
watching. His movements—though rough—were layered with efficiency. They weren't
of a beginner. They were calculated.
But before Luthan could draw a conclusion, Eliar noticed him.
With a sudden change, Eliar stumbled, exaggerated a limp, and let out a loud,
strained cough. His body slumped as if drained of energy. From the bushes,
Luthan's expression shifted.
"...No. It can't be him," Luthan muttered to himself. "Someone like that...
from the slums? Weakest in the academy? He couldn't even touch
Kyren."
He turned away, convinced. Eliar watched him leave, a thin smirk breaking his
facade. The act had worked. For now.
---
Within the Vellore estate, madness festered.
Kyren's death had left the entire family in mourning and outrage. His father,
Lord Vaeric Vellore, had destroyed an entire chamber in fury. His mother wept
for days. The house mourned—but underneath the grief was fury, cold and
vengeful.
"Find who did this," Lord Vaeric snarled to his intelligence unit. "Burn the
city if you have to. I want heads."
Kyren's younger sister, Valenna, trained harder each day, her fists blistering
from wooden sword strikes.
And Luthan… he buried his doubts about Eliar, focusing on other suspects. But a
whisper in his mind remained: a strange, silent question he couldn't
ignore.
Back in the academy, Eliar played his role to perfection.
He intentionally scored low in mock trials. When sparring sessions came, he
took falls, let punches land. Teachers shook their heads. Students jeered.
Except one.
That Girl who is known as The Goddess of the Campus.
She'd watched him during the sparring session—expression unreadable, face as
beautiful and calm as ever. She said nothing. Didn't mock. Didn't praise. Just
watched.
Others joined her in observation too—three other girls, all possessing
something unique: one with healing abilities, another with psychic perception,
and one who could enhance the stats of others. All admired strength. And
something about Eliar lingered in their minds longer than
expected.
They didn't know why.
But he had begun to glow in their world of illusions.
Eliar Thorne was ready.
The world just hadn't realized it yet.
---
To be continued...