That day, Hazandeen International High School was unlike any other.
The school gym felt far too small to contain the explosive energy within. Thousands of HIHS students and guests from Makazhar Elite School filled the stands.
Trumpets, chants, mini flags, and posters bearing the participants' names flooded the hot, excitement-charged air.
The school's internal commentator narrated from the digital broadcast booth, his voice booming:
"Up next! The most anticipated match of the day! A clash between three of the top young heirs in Eastern Indorosia! David Virellano—Idham Tamarvich—and Rudi Norvalien!!"
Screams erupted—mainly from female students and even a few excitable teachers shouting:
"DAVID! DAVID VIRELLANO! YOU'RE SO COOL!!!"
David Virellano stepped into the arena.
Tall, athletic, with an aristocratic face and an air of utter confidence. The MES uniform fit his frame elegantly. He wasn't just handsome—he radiated dominance.
From the opposite side, two of Hazandeen's aces entered the court:
Idham Tamarvich, former student council president and eldest son of the school's owning family, and Rudi Norvalien, the rich boy whose mind seemed more preoccupied than focused.
Rudi walked in lazily, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Meanwhile, Idham entered the arena burning with passion—determined to crush David and become the star of the match.
He waved to the audience, but most of them were focused on David.
Even so, a decent number of students still cheered for him—mostly from his own school, since he was representing them.
And most of those cheers came from the boys.
But Idham didn't really care. He was confident enough.
After all, this was his home turf. His school.
He felt like he was the main character.
One against two.
But everyone knew who the star truly was: David Virellano.
---
The match began.
Within seconds, it became David's show.
His movements were sharp, fluid, and stylish. Every shot he made drew cheers. Some teachers even stood up and cheered—clearly losing their neutrality.
Idham played with fiery spirit. He knew this wasn't just a game. It was personal. About pride.
But Rudi was... different.
He wandered, lazily passing the ball now and then, but never showing any true intent to compete. His eyes followed the ball while a small smile curled on his lips—watching David shine.
David dominated effortlessly.
Point after point.
The crowd was entranced by his natural charisma on the court.
The match ended in a landslide victory for MES.
Idham, dripping with sweat and fury, glared at Rudi.
"You didn't even try, Norvalien…"
Rudi only shrugged.
"I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of David. He's playing on another level, isn't he?"
Idham was furious—on the verge of exploding. Fortunately, his nature kept him from losing control completely, especially in front of the crowd.
He just cursed under his breath, then turned and walked away.
He couldn't believe it—because of Rudi, all his dreams had fallen apart.
---
As the audience poured out of the bleachers, Idham stormed off the court.
His eyes burned with frustration.
In the exit hallway, he accidentally bumped into someone.
Al.
Thin, quiet, with his usual eye bags, slowly walking through the corridor.
Idham stared him down. And grinned—channeling his anger into someone random.
"Move aside, orphan boy."
Al was a little surprised. It wasn't like Idham to be filled with so much anger.
"Oii. What's wrong with you?!" Al asked, slightly annoyed.
But Idham only glared at him, as if saying, Don't bother me—or I'll destroy you.
Al, a bit confused, slowly began to understand.
"Ohooo… are you pissed because you lost to David? Haha." he teased.
"You—don't mock me!"
Irritated, Idham tried to grab Al's collar, but Al easily caught his hand.
"Hehe… not like you to be this impulsive. So beneath all that calm attitude, you're still just a kid who can throw tantrums, huh?" Al teased again.
Hearing that, Idham froze for a moment.
He snapped back to his senses and quickly released his grip.
He's right… Why am I even this mad? Idham thought.
After taking a moment to calm down, he responded,
"You're right. I guess I overreacted. Sorry."
His tone still carried a hint of irritation.
Al simply tilted his head, looked at Idham for a moment, then stepped to the side and patted his shoulder.
"You don't need to see yourself as beneath him. Sooner or later, he'll fall on his own." With that, Al walked away.
Idham snorted, slightly confused by what he meant—but somehow, his anger felt a little lighter.
"Damn it…"
And with that, he turned away, his emotions slowly cooling down.
---
The martial arts competition was about to begin.
But the atmosphere had shifted.
The crowd's cheers had become a murmur. Everyone now waited for the next highlight.
Al's pace was slow as ever. Dull and unmotivated, he just wanted to find an empty spot and lie down.
But fate had other plans.
Coming from the opposite direction, David Virellano appeared—fresh from his match. A towel around his neck, hair wet with sweat, yet still radiating glory—showered in praise.
The moment David saw Al… his expression froze.
Their eyes met.
There was a flicker—something sharp, tense—in David's gaze.
But he quickly masked it, squinting slightly and offering a razor-thin smirk.
Then he walked past.
Well. Well. Well. I truly did not expect to run into this orphan boy here. Enjoy your day, young man. Soon enough, your fate will be sealed. Hehe. David's inner voice chuckled darkly.
Al, who saw him pass by, chose to ignore it altogether.
There was no benefit in confronting someone like David right now. Yet, as David brushed past him, Al caught a peculiar sensation—an energy that felt out of place radiating faintly from David's body.
His crimson eyes glimmered as he activated his gaze, analyzing with precision.
Unfortunately, he found nothing tangible. It was as if the boy had either been exposed to some foreign energy by accident, or had merely brushed against it unintentionally.
From a distance, Rina noticed the brief interaction and quickly hurried over, confusion written across her face.
What kind of pointless drama is this? she thought. But all she actually saw was David walking away calmly, as if nothing had happened.
Behind David, Rudi Norvalien followed. Unlike David, he stopped right in front of Al, his eyes sizing him up from head to toe.
"Ah, the scholarship kid. Still alive, are you?"
The insult rolled off his tongue casually, yet each word struck like a sharp needle.
Al blinked. His eyes were empty, cold, indifferent—he looked at Rudi as though he were nothing more than the passing wind.
Two years now this boy has been pestering me. What does he even want from me? Could it be… is this another one of those ridiculous love-related grudges, dragging me into his mess? Al wondered, genuinely puzzled.
"Do you want my autograph again?" Al said casually — but his tone was clearly mocking.
"What?!" Rudi snapped in irritation, remembering that stupid incident before.
David turned around, slightly shocked, staring sharply at Rudi.
"You asked for his autograph?" he asked.
Rudi shook his head in anger.
"Of course not," he shot back, offended.
Al didn't respond any further. He felt that jab was enough.
He just chuckled softly, looked away, and prepared to continue walking.
Seeing that, Rudi—already getting annoyed—decided to provoke him further. He couldn't stand letting Al have the last word.
He then stepped forward, blocking Al's path.
"Oh, right. I heard you're representing the school in the martial arts competition? Is that true?" He said.
"Oh my god! Do you actually think a weak little orphan like you can practice martial arts? Or maybe because you've thrown fists in some street fight, you've already begun to fancy yourself a martial artist? Dream on. Haha!" He added mockingly.
Al exhaled slowly, his patience wearing thin. He then smiled faintly and replied, his voice calm yet laced with subtle provocation,
"I hope you still remember what happened to those thugs you sent after me."
Rudi was startled by those words. Of course he knew what happened to the thugs he had sent.
How the hell did he know? Until now, no one had leaked that information. Even the cause of their severe beating was still unclear—especially since they ended up half-conscious with concussions.Could this kid really know? he thought, confused.
"Y-You... how do you know about that?" Rudi asked, shocked.
"I don't know. Let's just say I happened to see those five guys beaten to a pulp in a narrow alley. Or maybe..."
Al cut himself off, then stepped a little closer to Rudi and continued with a grin,
"...it was this street fighter here who did it. Hehe."
Rudi instinctively took a step back, refusing to believe what Al had just said.
He really knows? But how? Could it be that when he was being bullied, someone showed up to help him? Or... could it be... he's actually the one who did it? Rudi's mind ran through every possibility.
Rina and David also looked at Al after hearing that statement.
David didn't really understand what they were talking about, but he remembered that not long ago, Al was scolded for being accused of fighting.
Could it be related to that? If so, does that mean Al defeated those five thugs? But that didn't make sense to David. He doesn't even have any magical energy in his body. How could a skinny kid like him take down five grown thugs at once? Impossible, he concluded.
Rina, however, was far more shaken.
If the incident Al spoke of was indeed the same one she remembered, then the terrifying energy she had felt that day—it had belonged to Al? And coincidentally, she had sensed that very same familiar energy again just yesterday while walking him home.
Is this just a coincidence? So he really knows? Then... does that mean Al really was involved in that incident? How stupid of me not to ask him properly yesterday, Rina thought, her expression turning serious.
But she wanted to be sure. When she looked closer at Al and tried to sense his energy again, she reached the same conclusion as before — there was no trace of magical energy in his body.
Though in truth, that was only because her senses were too weak to comprehend Al's true power.
Al simply chuckled at their reactions, leaving the entire event shrouded in mystery for them.
Rudi grew even more irritated by Al's behavior, but in the end, his disbelief outweighed his anger.
He couldn't bring himself to believe that Al had beaten them — and that thought alone was enough to calm his nerves a little.
Then he stepped forward once more.
But this time, Rina intervened. She rushed in, shoving Rudi back roughly.
"Move, Norvalien. Stop bothering Al."
Rudi sneered, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Oh, Rina. Come to save him again, have you?"
"Enough, Norvalien," Rina snapped.
Unwilling to escalate further—especially not with Rina—Rudi stepped back with a mocking grin.
"Let me give you a piece of advice. Don't get too close to him. You never know—poverty might be contagious." His tone was sharp, provocative.
Then, with a twisted smirk, he added playfully, "But you… you're becoming more attractive, Rina. I've always had a thing for tomboyish girls like you. Haha." With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered back toward David.
Rina's face hardened at his words. Her hand clenched into a fist, ready to strike. She lunged forward, arm swinging—
Blaaap! A hand shot out, halting her mid-swing.
David's hand.
His movement was swift, precise, and undeniably strong.
Rina froze, her eyes wide in shock.
David? That speed… it's far beyond what I last saw from him. This boy… he's grown.
David's expression remained blank, devoid of emotion.
"Don't be impulsive, Rina. You may come to regret it."
Al observed the exchange quietly. This was his first time witnessing David's abilities firsthand. For what it was worth, it was impressive—someone at the Adept Level managing to intercept the strike of someone already at the Practitioner Level.
Ultimately, in real combat, there was never a guarantee of victory simply because one's level was higher. Even if the odds were a billion to one, a mere human without magical energy, given the right use of strength and environment, could topple even a 'Grandmaster Level' expert like me. That was the conclusion Al came to.
Rina, meanwhile, clenched her fists and reluctantly took a step back. She knew this was not the time or place to escalate further.
David released her arm and turned to leave. But before fully walking away, he left behind a single cold, sharp line, spoken softly yet piercing like a blade:
"Be careful... Rina. He's quite known for being a womanizer. Don't let yourself become his next victim."
At that very moment—
Al froze.
Those words... felt like a knife stabbing into him.
His body reacted negatively at once, anger flaring deep inside.
He was still furious from what happened last night with David and his girlfriend—and now, David had the guts to stir things up again in public.
The emotions boiled violently within him.
But thankfully, Al was aware of his position—he couldn't afford to lose control here.
He took a deep breath.
Then, calmly, he turned around, his eyes fixed on David's back.
"I didn't know a seventeen-year-old could already master the art of hypocrisy—living his life as a liar. I suppose one of the maids at home must've taught him that."
The words flew like invisible arrows.
David stopped.
His eyes widened. His body stiffened.
His left hand clenched so tightly that his knuckles popped.
Not because of the words 'hypocrite' or 'liar'—he had heard those plenty of times from Al before.
But because of the part about the maid who taught him that.
What did he mean? Does he... know something? David thought, shocked.
Rudi looked at him, confused.
But David didn't turn around.
He only took a slow breath... and walked away.
Silent. Furious. Saying nothing.
Inside David's heart, the voice of the past echoed—
the voice of a woman who used to embrace him when he was little.
Al stood still.
He knew exactly what he'd just done.
He knew his words were sharp.
But he also knew... it was a small payback—for the humiliation thrown at him. A humiliation that might even complicate his mission in that household later on.
Rudi could only follow David, while Rina stood frozen, confused by the whole drama. But soon, her thoughts shifted back—to the bigger thing ahead of them.
The martial arts competition.
---