I walked through the gates of The Aegis Academy with a weight pressing on my shoulders. The confrontation with Tyler Westwood last night had made one thing abundantly clear: I needed to make people fear me. Not just respect my power, but genuinely fear the consequences of crossing me.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the training grounds as students practiced their martial techniques. Some glanced my way, whispering behind their hands. News traveled fast in Veridia City.
I found a quiet spot beneath a maple tree and leaned against its trunk, closing my eyes to think. The temporary "Power of Martial Saint" I'd gained from the mysterious stone tablet was fading. Soon, I'd be back to my original strength—still formidable, but not enough to deter the likes of the Westwood family.
"I need more than just power," I muttered to myself. "I need a reputation that makes people think twice."
