The royal palace was… obnoxiously magnificent.White-gold spires touched the clouds, and the walls seemed to hum faintly with mana. The corridors shimmered with soft light, powered by runic circuits embedded in the marble — an architectural blend of magic and technology that screamed of wealth and arrogance.
I followed two palace maids through one of those endless hallways, each identical to the last. Their steps were measured, not a sound out of rhythm — either they were perfectly trained or secretly golems.
We finally turned into the hall leading toward the banquet chambers, and that's when I spotted her — Serenya Darknorth.
As always, she was immaculate: a long dark-blue gown that shimmered like liquid sapphire, her silver hair neatly braided and resting over one shoulder. She stood with the poise of someone born into command — graceful yet firm, sharp yet composed.
When she saw me, her lips curved into the faintest hint of amusement."Finally decided to join the world of the living, cousin?"
I smirked. "Oh, I was just giving everyone a head start to shine before I arrived. Wouldn't want to steal all the attention too early."
Her silver eyes narrowed, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "You do realize humility is considered a virtue, right?"
"Humility?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is that the thing nobles fake before they stab each other in the back?"
She sighed, muttering, "And people wonder why you have no friends outside the family."
"I do have friends," I said, pretending to think. "There's Lira… and… well, that's one."
"Exactly." She began walking toward the banquet hall, her gown flowing behind her like a ripple of moonlight. "Try to act like a civilized person tonight. The palace isn't your playground."
I followed, grinning. "You wound me, Serenya. I'm always civilized — at least until someone challenges me to prove otherwise."
She gave me a sidelong glance. "You sound like you're planning to cause trouble."
"Planning?" I asked innocently. "No, I prefer improvisation."
That earned me a genuine smile — brief but real. "Just… don't overdo it, Rishi. Not everyone here knows how to handle your kind of humor."
"Ah, so you do think I'm funny."
"I think you're a headache," she said dryly. "An occasionally amusing headache."
I chuckled, and for a brief moment, the tension that always hovered between us softened.
We reached the banquet hall — a grand chamber that looked more like a cathedral than a dining space. Hundreds of mana-lights floated above, forming constellations against the vaulted ceiling. The music, played by a dozen performers using enchanted instruments, filled the air with elegance.
But what caught my attention was the social layout — nobles grouped according to invisible hierarchies, each cluster orbiting its own sphere of influence. Their postures, their jewels, even their laughter were weapons in the quiet war of prestige.
"Ah," I muttered. "The jungle of silk and deceit. Truly, civilization at its peak."
Serenya didn't even look at me this time. "Just smile, nod, and don't duel anyone. That's all I ask."
"Fine," I sighed. "But if someone tries to 'accidentally' step on my foot again like at the last ball—"
"Then you'll endure it with grace," she said firmly.
"Or gravity," I muttered under my breath.
Her warning look could've melted stone. I raised my hands in surrender. "Grace it is."
Before I could dig my own grave deeper, a commotion rippled across the hall. The royal twins had entered.
The princess, radiant and mischievous, moved through the crowd like sunlight — her laughter light, her presence magnetic. The prince, however, was her mirror in shadow: calm, unreadable, eyes sharp as blades behind an expression of quiet detachment.
When Elara spotted us, her face lit up. "Finally! The Darknorths have arrived!"
"Ah, my favorite princess," I said with mock sincerity. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
"Forgotten you?" she laughed. "Impossible. You're the only one who made my royal etiquette tutor cry."
"That woman needed to broaden her sense of humor," I said with a grin.
Aldric raised a brow. "You told her that her posture was so stiff she looked like she swallowed a broom."
"She did!" I said defensively. "I was just pointing out the obvious."
Serenya sighed beside me. "You haven't changed at all."
"Neither have they," I whispered back.
Elara hooked her arm through Serenya's. "It's been ages! You have to tell me everything — your awakening, your spirit, that whole tri-elementalist thing! Oh, the court's been gossiping nonstop. We were not able complete our conversation in the garden."
"Gossip is their main occupation," Serenya said dryly, though her tone held warmth.
Aldric gave me a subtle nod. "Heard you've been… busy, Rishi. Training in the wilds, was it?"
I smirked. "If by 'training' you mean 'being kidnapped by my sadistic instructor and thrown into monster-infested deserts for fun,' then yes. I've been thriving."
His lips curved — a rare expression for him. "At least you survived. Barely."
"Barely is still a passing grade."
Elara giggled. "You two haven't changed either. Still competing over who can sound more unbothered."
Before I could retort, a new voice intruded — smooth, honeyed, and immediately annoying.
"Well, if it isn't the Darknorth heirs and the royal gems themselves."
A newcomer mob character walked toward us. He looked like he'd been sculpted by an artist who ran out of creativity halfway through — moderately handsome, dressed in storm-blue with silver embroidery that screamed "look at me, I'm important." bore the swirling emblem of lightning — the symbol of the Storm family.
He bowed to the princess and prince, but his eyes — too sharp, too familiar — lingered on Serenya.
"Lady Serenya," he said with an easy smile. "Every time I see you, I wonder if the heavens grew jealous and sent you here to humble us."
"Oh no," I muttered softly. "He rehearsed that line."
Serenya, being the picture of noble grace, simply inclined her head. "Lord Alaric. You seem… unchanged."
So that was his name. Alaric Storm. I dug through the inherited memories of the original Rishi — the one whose life I hijacked — and found it instantly.
Grandson of the Archduchess of Storm. Minor noble prodigy. Possessed a decent amount of talent. Infatuated with Serenya. A minor villain who tried to act like the main character but ended up as a background statistic.
Oh, right. He was also the guy who challenged the protagonist in the novel… and got flattened in three chapters.
My disgust flared.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he said smoothly. "Would you honor me with a dance?"
"No," she said immediately.
His smile faltered. "Ah… just one? To celebrate the Awakening Ceremony?"
"No," she repeated, her tone colder now.
Alaric chuckled awkwardly. "You've always been modest, Lady Serenya. I assure you, my steps are quite refined."
"She's not interested," I said, stepping forward.
Alaric turned his gaze on me, irritation flashing briefly. "And who invited you into the conversation, Rishi?"
I smiled. "Nobody. But since you seem to have trouble understanding short words, I thought I'd translate."
A collective ohhhh rippled through the crowd. Even Aldric's eyes gleamed with faint amusement.
His smirk faded, replaced with a flicker of irritation. "Lord Rishi," he said, his voice carefully polite, "this is a matter between Lady Serenya and myself."
"And now," I said with a lazy grin, "it's between you and me."
Whispers rippled through the nearby nobles. Alaric's jaw tightened, his pride clearly pricked. He straightened, and then his aura flared — crackling arcs of wind and static energy spreading around him.
The chandeliers flickered as pressure rolled through the hall.
Oh? Trying to intimidate me? Adorable.
I met his gaze, unfazed, and let my own aura bloom in response. The two forces clashed silently, invisible yet tangible. Then, I activated Gaze of the Supreme — the legacy technique that made opponents feel their insignificance.
Alaric stiffened as my gaze bore into him, his breathing faltering under invisible weight. I added a touch of gravity affinity, subtly amplifying the force pressing him down.
He bent slightly — not enough to kneel, but enough to prove my point.
"You should really work on your posture," I said softly. "That slouch doesn't suit you."
He gritted his teeth, clearly straining against the pressure. But he wasn't weak. A surge of emerald wind flared around him as he activated some resistance technique, his aura stabilizing.
"Is this how the Darknorths conduct themselves?" he snapped, voice strained. "Using underhanded tricks in a royal hall?"
I smiled. "Underhanded? You were the one trying to pressure a lady. I just returned the favor."
Serenya hissed under her breath, "Rishi, stop it."
But I didn't.
He glared at me, fury sparking in his eyes.
I sighed inwardly. Fine. Let's bring out the fun one.
I activated Bloodlust — the gift (or curse) from my sadistic instructor. In an instant, the air froze. The cheerful chatter of the hall seemed to fade. My aura transformed into something primal — the overwhelming killing intent of a predator. It wasn't just presence; it was the instinctive terror of prey staring into the abyss.
Alaric's breath hitched. His instincts screamed danger. His muscles tensed as if facing a beast that could tear him apart any second.
Internally, I couldn't help but smirk.
Why did I ever cooperate to my instructor's hellish training? Because he was smart.
He'd known that to make a stubborn student like me work, he needed both carrot and stick. So he'd given me a high-rank skill — Bloodlust — but only after subjecting me to torture that made me reconsider the value of being alive. Mastering it nearly broke me. But now? Worth every scar.
I still remembered his words: "Fear is a weapon. Learn to make others feel it, or you'll always be prey."
Alaric, desperate, ignited his wind affinity — a surge of green light flaring around him.
The moment it appeared, chaos erupted. The nobles gasped, and guards tensed. The entire hall vibrated with raw mana — until—
"Enough."
The single word silenced everything.
The Emperor's voice rolled through the hall like divine thunder. Every spell, aura, and killing intent vanished instantly, crushed under his command.
Even the air itself bowed to his authority.
The Emperor — tall, imposing, his presence a storm caged in human form — gazed down at us with calm eyes that saw everything.
"What," he said, his tone deceptively mild, "is the meaning of this?"
Alaric immediately bowed. "Y-Your Majesty, I only—"
Before Alaric could stammer out a defense, I bowed slightly, all politeness and false humility.
"Asked Lady Serenya to dance," I said smoothly, cutting in. "And when she refused, he insisted. I stepped in before things… escalated."
The Emperor's gaze flicked between us. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly.
The Archduchess of Storm, Alaric's grandmother, stepped forward sharply. "Your Majesty, my grandson meant no offense. His enthusiasm—"
"—is poorly controlled," the Emperor interrupted mildly. "A dangerous trait in a noble, wouldn't you agree, Archduchess?"
Her face stiffened. "...Indeed, Your Majesty."
The Emperor raised a brow. "Then let us ensure that pride doesn't lead to property damage next time, shall we?" His tone sharpened. "Lord Alaric, apologize."
Alaric's jaw tightened, but he bowed his head. "My apologies… Lady Serenya. Lord Rishi."
"Accepted," Serenya said gracefully.
"Accepted," I echoed with a grin. "Though next time, bring better lines."
"Rishi!" Serenya hissed.
"And Rishi," the Emperor added, turning to me. "Try not to escalate every situation into a duel. The palace floors are hard to clean after a noble bleeds on them."
I bowed respectfully. "Of course, Your Majesty. I assure you, I only duel when provoked."
There was a faint pause — then, to my surprise, the Emperor actually smirked. "You sound just like your father."
With that, he raised his hand. "Continue the festivities."
The music resumed hesitantly. Conversations sparked back to life, though the undercurrent of gossip was unmistakable.
Alaric stepped back, humiliated but silent. The Archduchess' glare promised retribution later, but I couldn't care less.
I turned to Serenya, who was giving me that long-suffering cousin look.
"You promised not to start trouble," she murmured.
"I didn't start it," I said innocently. "I just… dramatically ended it."
The princess giggled softly. "Well, you certainly made the evening interesting, Lord Rishi."
The prince's gaze lingered on me — sharp, unreadable. "Interesting indeed."
His tone was neutral, but I didn't miss the subtle undertone.
That one's going to be a problem someday, I thought grimly.
But for now, I just smiled and raised my glass. "To a peaceful evening," I said lightly.
The prince's lips curved just slightly. "Let's hope it stays that way."