The Nightshade estate made the Crimsonhart manor look modest by comparison.
Anthonio's carriage passed through gates of enchanted silver, down a tree-lined avenue where every branch glittered with frost formations that never melted. The mansion itself was a architectural marvel—three stories of white stone and crystalline windows, with ice sculptures decorating every available surface. The entire estate radiated cold, a physical manifestation of the Nightshade family's affinity for ice cultivation.
*Duke Nightshade is showing off,* Anthonio thought as they approached the main entrance. *This entire display is a message: we are powerful, we are wealthy, and our daughter is the kingdom's most valuable prize.*
Carriages lined the circular drive, each one more opulent than the last. Young nobles in expensive attire climbed the steps to the main entrance, many accompanied by parents or chaperones. This wasn't just a debut ball—it was a marketplace where alliances were formed and political futures decided.
Anthonio's carriage stopped, and a footman opened the door. He stepped out, adjusting his formal attire one final time. Selene remained in the carriage—she would wait in the servants' area, ready to extract him if anything went wrong.
"Young master," she said quietly before he left, "remember your role. Confident but not arrogant. Interesting but not threatening. And above all—"
"Don't reveal my true power. I know." Anthonio smiled slightly. "Trust me, Selene. I wrote this scene a hundred times in different variations. I know exactly what to do."
He climbed the steps to the entrance, presenting his invitation to the guards. They checked his name against their list, their expressions flickering with barely concealed disdain when they recognized the Crimsonhart family crest.
"Anthonio Crimsonhart," one guard announced in a tone that suggested he was announcing the arrival of refuse. "Fifth son of Duke Marcus Crimsonhart."
*And there it is. The contempt that follows me everywhere.*
Anthonio entered the grand ballroom, and the spectacle nearly took his breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, each one radiating cold light. The walls were decorated with ice formations that somehow maintained their structure despite the room's warmth. Hundreds of nobles filled the space, their conversations creating a constant hum of ambition and intrigue.
But Anthonio's attention was drawn immediately to the center of the room, where a raised platform stood empty. That's where Seraphina would make her entrance—the traditional debut presentation where the duke's daughter would be introduced to society.
"Anthonio Crimsonhart?"
He turned to find a young noble approaching, someone from his family's social circle. The man's expression was a mixture of surprise and poorly concealed scorn.
"I'm shocked to see you here," the noble said. "I heard you were exiled to the mountains after your... unfortunate Awakening Ceremony."
"I was invited," Anthonio replied evenly. "Duke Nightshade extended invitations to all young nobles of appropriate age, regardless of their circumstances."
"Charitable of him." The noble's eyes swept over Anthonio, clearly trying to assess his cultivation level. "Though I must say, you look well for someone living in isolation. Have you made any progress with your cultivation, or are you still..."
He trailed off, the unspoken word *worthless* hanging in the air.
Anthonio smiled, letting just enough of his cultivation aura leak through the Ring's suppression. Not his true Transcendence 5-Star level—that would cause a scene. Just enough to register as Manifestation 5-Star.
The noble's eyes widened in shock. "Manifestation? You've reached Manifestation level?"
"Some of us work harder than others," Anthonio said mildly. "Adversity can be motivating."
"But... that's impossible. You had Broken Veins. F-Rank. How could you possibly—"
"Impossible is just another word for 'hasn't been done yet.'" Anthonio moved past the stunned noble. "Enjoy the ball."
He could feel eyes turning toward him now, whispers spreading through the crowd. *The exiled trash has reached Manifestation. How did that happen? What resources did he find? Is he actually talented after all?*
Perfect. Exactly the reaction he wanted—curiosity without alarm, interest without fear.
Anthonio positioned himself near one of the refreshment tables, accepting a glass of wine from a server. From here, he had a clear view of the entire ballroom and could observe the social dynamics without being directly involved.
He spotted his father almost immediately—Duke Marcus stood with a group of high-ranking nobles, his expression stern as always. When his eyes landed on Anthonio, there was a flicker of surprise, quickly suppressed. Marcus excused himself from his conversation and approached.
"Anthonio," he said quietly. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
"Duke Nightshade invited all young nobles. That includes me, despite my exile." Anthonio met his father's eyes calmly. "I hope my presence doesn't cause you embarrassment."
Marcus studied him, his spiritual sense sweeping over Anthonio's cultivation. His eyes widened fractionally when he sensed Manifestation 5-Star.
"You've advanced," Marcus said, his tone carefully neutral. "Significantly. How?"
"Dedication. Resources I acquired independently. And perhaps a small amount of natural talent that the Awakening Ceremony failed to detect." Anthonio sipped his wine. "I'm no longer the worthless son you exiled, Father. I've become... adequate."
"Adequate." Marcus's lips twitched—was that almost a smile? "Manifestation 5-Star at seventeen is more than adequate. It's exceptional, given your starting point."
"Then perhaps the family won't be ashamed to acknowledge me anymore."
Marcus was silent for a long moment. Then: "We'll discuss this after the ball. But Anthonio... don't cause any scenes tonight. The Nightshade family is too important to offend."
"I'll be the model of propriety," Anthonio promised.
Marcus nodded and returned to his political discussions, leaving Anthonio alone again. But the damage was done—or rather, the setup was complete. People had seen Duke Marcus personally speak with his exiled son. They had seen the surprise on his face when he sensed Anthonio's cultivation.
The whispers intensified. *Maybe there's more to the Crimsonhart trash than we thought.*
"ANNOUNCING THE ARRIVAL OF DUKE ALDRIC STORMBORN AND HIS SON, KAEL STORMBORN!"
The herald's voice cut through the ambient conversation. Every head turned toward the entrance as father and son entered the ballroom.
Anthonio watched with clinical interest as Kael made his entrance. The protagonist looked good—he'd grown taller in the four months since their first meeting, filled out with muscle from intensive training. He wore formal attire that emphasized his warrior's build, and his three Divine Essences created a subtle pressure in the room that made weaker cultivators step back unconsciously.
The crowd parted before him, nobles eager to make introductions, young women watching with barely concealed interest. This was Kael Stormborn, the blessed son, the hero who had saved Duke Crimsonhart from assassination, the rising star destined for greatness.
*Enjoy your moment,* Anthonio thought coldly. *It's about to be overshadowed.*
Kael's silver eyes—the Eye of Destiny—swept across the ballroom, taking in everything. When his gaze landed on Anthonio, there was a flicker of recognition.
He approached, Duke Aldric remaining behind to speak with other nobles.
"Anthonio Crimsonhart," Kael said with what seemed like genuine warmth. "I didn't expect to see you here. How have you been?"
"Well enough." Anthonio gestured to the ballroom. "Exile to the mountains has its advantages. Quiet. Peaceful. Good for cultivation."
"I can see that." Kael's spiritual sense brushed over Anthonio—not invasive, just curious. "Manifestation 5-Star? That's incredible progress from where you were at the Awakening Ceremony. You must have worked incredibly hard."
"I had motivation." Anthonio smiled slightly. "Being branded as worthless trash tends to inspire determination."
"I imagine so." Kael's expression was sympathetic. "For what it's worth, I never believed the Awakening Ceremony's assessment was final. Cultivation can surprise us. Look at my own situation—a bastard son who suddenly has three Divine Essences. Neither of us followed the expected path."
*Except you were always blessed,* Anthonio thought. *You were born with those Divine Essences waiting to awaken. I had to steal power and reshape myself from nothing.*
But he said nothing of this aloud. Instead: "You saved my father from assassination. I never properly thanked you for that."
"No thanks necessary. I was just in the right place at the right time." Kael's tone carried false modesty. "The Eye of Destiny showed me the danger, and I responded. Anyone would have done the same."
*No. Anyone wouldn't have. You think you're special because the gods blessed you. You think you're destined to be the hero.*
*But I'm going to teach you that destiny is just a story someone wrote. And authors can always revise their work.*
Before Anthonio could respond, trumpets sounded throughout the ballroom. All conversation ceased as everyone turned toward the grand staircase at the far end.
"PRESENTING LADY SERAPHINA NIGHTSHADE, DAUGHTER OF DUKE MARCUS NIGHTSHADE!"
She appeared at the top of the staircase, and Anthonio felt his breath catch despite himself.
Seraphina Nightshade was beautiful in a way that transcended normal aesthetics. Her hair was white as fresh snow, falling in elegant waves past her shoulders. Her eyes were ice-blue, seeming to glow with inner light. Her formal gown was pale silver, decorated with frost patterns that moved and shifted as she walked. The Divine Essence of Ice radiated from her like cold sunlight—powerful, pure, and absolutely captivating.
But what struck Anthonio most was her expression. Where most young nobles making their debut would look nervous or excited, Seraphina looked... bored. Her eyes swept across the crowd with barely concealed disdain, as if everyone present was beneath her notice.
*Perfect,* Anthonio thought. *She's exactly as I wrote her. Proud, powerful, and completely unimpressed by the nobles falling over themselves to win her favor.*
Seraphina descended the staircase with practiced grace, her father Duke Nightshade waiting at the bottom to escort her to the center of the ballroom. The traditional debut speech began—flowery language about honor, family, and the bright future ahead.
Anthonio tuned it out, instead studying Seraphina's reactions. She maintained perfect composure, but he could see the subtle signs of impatience. The slight tension in her shoulders. The way her eyes drifted toward the exit. She wanted this event to be over.
*She doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want to be paraded like a prize to be won. Resents being reduced to a political asset.*
That was his opening.
The speech concluded, and the traditional receiving line began. Young nobles queued up to be introduced to Seraphina, each one offering flowery compliments and transparent attempts to impress her.
Anthonio watched them fail, one after another. A noble bragging about his Consolidation 8-Star cultivation—Seraphina nodded politely, clearly uninterested. Another describing his family's extensive lands—she thanked him with obvious insincerity. A third attempting poetry—she smiled with her mouth but not her eyes.
Kael Stormborn was near the front of the line, and Anthonio watched with interest as he approached Seraphina.
"Lady Nightshade," Kael said, bowing respectfully. "Thank you for inviting me to your debut. It's an honor."
"Duke Aldric's son," Seraphina replied, her tone neutral. "I've heard interesting things about you. Three Divine Essences. Quite exceptional."
"I'm fortunate in my blessings," Kael said with false modesty. "But I'm more interested in what you might teach me about ice cultivation. The Nightshade family's mastery of ice techniques is legendary."
Seraphina's eyes flickered with something—interest? Respect? "You seek knowledge rather than flattery. That's unusual for these events."
"I believe in substance over show," Kael replied. "Perhaps we could discuss cultivation theory later this evening? I'd be honored to learn from your expertise."
*Good approach,* Anthonio admitted grudgingly. *Appeal to her pride in her abilities, position yourself as a student rather than a suitor. He's smarter than I gave him credit for.*
"Perhaps," Seraphina said, which in noble speak meant 'probably not, but I'm too polite to refuse directly.' "Enjoy the ball, Kael Stormborn."
Kael moved on, and Anthonio noted the small smile on his face. He thought he'd made a connection. Made an impression.
*He has no idea she gives that same response to everyone who doesn't actively offend her.*
The line continued, noble after noble attempting and failing to genuinely engage Seraphina's interest. She maintained perfect courtesy, but Anthonio could see her patience wearing thin.
Finally, the receiving line ended, and Seraphina was free to circulate among the guests. Most nobles gave her space, intimidated by her power and status. A few brave souls attempted to approach for private conversation, but she deflected them with practiced ease.
Anthonio waited. Timing was everything. Approach too early, and he'd be just another suitor trying to win favor. Too late, and she'd have retreated to a defensive position, tired of unwanted attention.
He watched as she accepted a glass of wine from a server, positioning herself near one of the ice sculptures—a massive dragon carved from crystalline ice, so detailed you could see individual scales.
*Now.*
Anthonio approached casually, not directly toward her, but angling to study the ice dragon sculpture. He positioned himself just within her peripheral vision, close enough to be noticed but not close enough to seem intrusive.
"Fascinating craftsmanship," he said, not looking at her, his voice pitched to be overheard but not directed at her. "The way the ice captures light... it's not just frozen water. This is ice essence given permanent form. Manifestation-level technique, at minimum."
For a moment, Seraphina didn't respond. Then: "Transcendence-level, actually. My father created it twenty years ago. It's sustained by a continuous essence flow—the ice will never melt as long as the Nightshade bloodline endures."
"Impressive." Anthonio turned to look at her, his expression showing genuine interest rather than the calculated flattery most nobles had used. "Continuous essence flow across decades. The power consumption must be astronomical. Your father must be at least Sovereign 6-Star to maintain something like this while still handling his other responsibilities."
Seraphina's ice-blue eyes studied him with new interest. "Sovereign 7-Star, actually. And you're correct—the power consumption is significant. Most people admire the sculpture without understanding the technical achievement it represents."
"Most people see the surface. They don't think about the underlying mechanics." Anthonio gestured to the ice dragon. "But that's where the real art lives. Anyone can freeze water. Creating ice that exists as a permanent manifestation of will—that's true mastery."
"You understand cultivation theory," Seraphina observed. "That's unusual for..." She trailed off, clearly uncertain how to refer to him politely.
"For exiled trash?" Anthonio smiled slightly. "It's fine. Everyone knows my story. Broken Veins at the Awakening Ceremony. F-Rank. Sent to the mountains to avoid embarrassing the family."
"And yet you're here. At Manifestation 5-Star." Seraphina's gaze intensified. "How?"
"Desperation and luck in equal measure." Anthonio sipped his wine. "When you're told you're worthless, you either accept it or prove them wrong. I chose the latter. Found some resources, worked harder than I've ever worked at anything, and somehow clawed my way to adequacy."
"Manifestation 5-Star at seventeen isn't adequacy. It's exceptional." Seraphina's tone carried genuine respect. "I'm Transcendence 3-Star, but I've had my Divine Essence since birth and the kingdom's best tutors. You started from nothing and reached Manifestation in fourteen months. That's... impressive."
*Hook set,* Anthonio thought. *She's engaged. Now to let the conversation flow naturally rather than pushing too hard.*
"Impressive is a generous word," he said. "I prefer 'stubborn.' But I'll take the compliment. How are you finding your debut ball? Is it everything you hoped?"
Seraphina laughed—a genuine sound that seemed to surprise even her. "It's exactly as tedious as I expected. Nobles competing to see who can flatter me most creatively. Marriage proposals barely disguised as compliments. Political maneuvering wrapped in false courtesy."
"The price of being powerful and valuable," Anthonio observed. "Everyone wants to possess what they can't truly understand."
"Possess." Seraphina repeated the word, her expression hardening slightly. "That's exactly how they see me. Not as a person. As an asset to be acquired."
"Then they're fools." Anthonio met her eyes directly. "Assets depreciate. People grow. Anyone who tries to possess you will find they've captured ice—beautiful on the surface, but cold enough to burn at the touch."
For a long moment, Seraphina simply stared at him. Then her lips curved in a genuine smile—not the polite social mask she'd worn all evening, but real amusement.
"You're different from the others," she said. "You're not trying to impress me."
"Why would I? You're already impressive. You don't need my validation." Anthonio gestured to the crowded ballroom. "Besides, I'm exiled trash who got lucky with cultivation. I have nothing to offer you politically. No family influence to leverage, no resources to share, no advantage to provide. Which means I can be honest rather than strategic."
"Honest." Seraphina's smile widened. "I don't encounter much honesty at events like this."
"Then let me be honest: you look like you'd rather be anywhere else right now. This ball is an obligation you're enduring, not an event you're enjoying."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Only to someone paying attention. Most of the nobles here are too focused on themselves to notice your actual reactions." Anthonio finished his wine. "For what it's worth, you're handling the tedium with remarkable grace. I would have set something on fire by now."
Seraphina laughed again, and Anthonio noted how the sound made several nearby nobles turn their heads in surprise. The ice princess, actually laughing at something the exiled trash said?
"I like you," Seraphina declared. "You're refreshing. What's your name again? I should probably know who I'm speaking with."
"Anthonio Crimsonhart. Fifth son, professionally embarrassing to my family, recently upgraded from 'worthless' to 'barely adequate.'"
"Well, Anthonio Crimsonhart, would you like to escape this ballroom for a few minutes? There's a garden terrace where we can have an actual conversation without an audience."
*Victory.*
"I'd be honored," Anthonio said, maintaining his casual demeanor despite the triumph surging through him. "Lead the way, Lady Nightshade."
"Please, call me Seraphina. 'Lady Nightshade' makes me feel like I'm being measured for a marriage contract."
They moved through the ballroom toward the terrace entrance, and Anthonio could feel dozens of eyes tracking them. Whispers erupted in their wake. The ice princess, leaving with the Crimsonhart exile? What could she possibly see in him?
*Exactly what I designed her to see,* Anthonio thought. *Someone genuine in a room full of performers. Someone interesting rather than impressive. Someone who treats her like a person rather than a prize.*
*And most importantly—someone who isn't Kael Stormborn.*
As they passed near where Kael stood conversing with other young nobles, Anthonio caught the protagonist's eye. There was surprise there, and something else. Confusion? Concern?
*You have no idea what's happening, do you?* Anthonio thought with cold satisfaction. *The Eye of Destiny didn't show you this possibility. Didn't predict that the exiled trash would be the one walking away with the first heroine.*
*Welcome to the rewritten story, protagonist. I hope you're taking notes.*
The terrace doors closed behind them, muffling the ballroom noise. Cool night air washed over them, carrying the scent of the estate's frost gardens. Seraphina moved to the balcony railing, looking out over the grounds illuminated by enchanted lights.
"Much better," she said. "I can actually think out here."
Anthonio joined her at the railing, maintaining a respectful distance. "Does your Divine Essence of Ice make you prefer cold environments? Or is that just coincidence?"
"Both. Ice cultivators are naturally drawn to cold, but I've also always preferred winter to summer. Something about the clarity of a frozen landscape appeals to me." She glanced at him. "What about you? Lightning cultivation, I assume, given your essence signature?"
"Recently developed. I had no affinity at all until about a year ago." Anthonio held up his hand, letting a small spark of crimson lightning dance across his fingers. "Still learning to control it properly. It's... volatile."
"Crimson lightning." Seraphina's eyes widened. "That's rare. Most lightning cultivators manifest blue or white. Crimson suggests... what, exactly? I'm not familiar with that variation."
"Honestly? I'm not sure myself." Anthonio dismissed the spark. "I found some resources in the mountains near my exile location. Ancient texts, cultivation manuals. Whatever I absorbed gave me this."
It was a careful mixture of truth and lies. The Primordial Red Lightning was indeed from ancient sources, but 'found some resources' didn't begin to cover the reality of absorbing a dragon's crystallized essence.
"Ancient resources." Seraphina's gaze turned calculating. "You stumbled upon something significant, didn't you? Something that transformed your Broken Veins into functional essence pathways."
"Possibly. Or maybe the Awakening Ceremony was wrong from the start." Anthonio shrugged. "Does it matter? I am what I am now. The past is irrelevant."
"Spoken like someone who's had to reinvent himself." Seraphina turned to face him fully. "Anthonio, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest. Are you approaching me for political reasons? Trying to use me to restore your family standing?"
*Here it is. The test. The moment where she determines if I'm genuine or just another ambitious noble.*
"No," Anthonio said simply. "If I wanted political advantage, I'd be in that ballroom right now, networking with people who have actual influence. You're the duke's daughter—associating with you would only put pressure on me to perform, to prove I'm worthy of the connection. Frankly, that sounds exhausting."
"Then why talk to me at all?"
"Because you looked like the only other person in that room who was seeing through the performance. Everyone else was playing their role—dutiful son, ambitious noble, potential suitor. You were the only one who seemed aware it was all theater." Anthonio smiled slightly. "I guess I wanted to meet someone who understood that high society is just elaborate pretending."
Seraphina studied him for a long moment, and Anthonio could see her Divine Essence of Ice activating—a subtle pressure as she tried to read him, to sense his intentions.
The Ring of Crimson Shadows held perfectly. She would sense only what he wanted her to sense: Manifestation 5-Star cultivation, genuine interest, no hidden agenda.
"You're telling the truth," she said finally. "Or at least, you believe you're telling the truth. That's rare at events like this."
"Truth is easier than lies. Requires less effort to maintain."
"Most people would disagree. They spend their entire lives constructing elaborate fictions about themselves." Seraphina leaned against the railing. "So, Anthonio Crimsonhart, exiled trash who became a Manifestation cultivator through mysterious ancient resources—what do you want from life? Where do you see yourself in five years?"
*The Royal Academy, having stolen every opportunity meant for Kael Stormborn, surrounded by a harem of women who were supposed to be his, standing at Sovereign level or higher, ready to reshape this entire kingdom according to my will.*
But he said: "Honestly? I don't know. A year ago, I thought my life was over. Now I'm standing at a duke's ball, having a genuine conversation with someone who has a Divine Essence. Five years feels like an impossible distance to predict."
"Fair answer." Seraphina smiled. "I'll be at the Royal Academy in ten months. Transcendence 3-Star should be sufficient for entrance, and my father has already arranged enrollment. What about you?"
"I'm planning to attend as well. Manifestation 5-Star might be barely adequate for entrance requirements, but I'll manage somehow."
"We might end up as classmates, then." Seraphina's smile widened. "That would be interesting. The ice princess and the lightning exile."
"Sounds like the title of a terrible romance novel," Anthonio observed, and Seraphina laughed again.
They talked for another thirty minutes, the conversation flowing naturally through topics ranging from cultivation theory to terrible experiences at noble gatherings to favorite books. Anthonio was careful to remain in character—genuine, interesting, but not overly impressive. Someone Seraphina would remember fondly but not obsess over.
*Plant seeds now. Let them grow naturally. Don't force anything.*
Eventually, Seraphina's chaperone appeared at the terrace entrance, signaling that her presence was required back in the ballroom.
"I should go," Seraphina said with obvious reluctance. "Politics to endure, more flattery to deflect."
"The price of being valuable," Anthonio replied.
"Before I leave—Anthonio, would you like to correspond? Letters, I mean. I find I'm curious about your progress over the next ten months. It would be interesting to compare notes on cultivation advancement."
*Yes. Perfect. Exactly what I wanted.*
"I'd like that," Anthonio said. "Though I should warn you, my letters might be boring. Not much happens in mountain exile."
"I doubt that. Someone who achieved Manifestation from nothing has plenty of interesting stories." Seraphina moved toward the terrace entrance, then paused. "For what it's worth, I'm glad we talked. You made this tedious event almost enjoyable."
"The feeling is mutual, Seraphina."
She left, and Anthonio remained on the terrace for several more minutes, processing what had just happened. He had successfully made contact with the first heroine. Established rapport. Created a foundation for future connection. And most importantly—intercepted her before Kael Stormborn could establish a relationship.
*In the original timeline, Kael and Seraphina would have had their first meaningful conversation tonight. Would have discovered their shared values, their similar struggles against prejudice. Would have planted the seeds of what becomes their romance.*
*Instead, she's walking away thinking about the exiled trash who treated her like a person. Who made her laugh. Who offered conversation instead of flattery.*
*First heroine stolen before the protagonist even knew she was supposed to be his.*
Anthonio returned to the ballroom, moving through the crowd toward the exit. His objectives for the evening were complete. No need to linger and risk complications.
But as he reached the entrance, a voice stopped him.
"Anthonio Crimsonhart."
He turned to find Kael Stormborn approaching, his silver eyes intense with that Divine sight.
"I saw you talking with Lady Seraphina," Kael said. His tone was carefully neutral, but Anthonio detected something beneath—was it concern? Suspicion?
"I did," Anthonio confirmed. "She's interesting. Smarter than most nobles, and refreshingly direct."
"She is." Kael's eyes narrowed fractionally. "I noticed she seemed quite engaged in your conversation. What did you discuss?"
*He's fishing. Trying to understand how the exiled trash managed to hold the ice princess's attention when his own introduction was merely polite.*
"Cultivation theory, mostly. The technical aspects of essence manipulation. She's quite knowledgeable about ice techniques." Anthonio smiled slightly. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious. Lady Seraphina is... important. Her Divine Essence and family connections make her a significant figure in the kingdom's future." Kael's tone carried an edge now. "I'd hate to see her led astray by someone with questionable intentions."
*There it is. The protagonist's possessiveness, manifesting before he even realizes he's interested in her.*
"Led astray?" Anthonio's smile widened. "Kael, she's Transcendence 3-Star with a Divine Essence. I'm Manifestation 5-Star with mysterious lightning I barely control. If anyone's in danger of being led astray, it's me, not her."
"That's not what I meant—"
"I know what you meant." Anthonio's voice remained pleasant, but his eyes hardened. "You're concerned that the exiled trash might somehow taint the valuable ice princess. That my presence might complicate whatever plans you or others have for her future."
Kael's expression shifted, clearly not expecting such directness. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." Anthonio moved past him toward the exit. "But for your peace of mind, Kael Stormborn, I have no designs on Lady Seraphina beyond friendly conversation. She's far above my station, and I'm perfectly aware of that reality."
*Lie beautifully delivered. Let him think I'm no threat. Let him dismiss me as insignificant.*
"I... appreciate your honesty," Kael said, though he still looked uncertain.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening. I'm sure Lady Seraphina will be surrounded by worthier suitors than myself."
Anthonio left before Kael could respond, stepping out into the night where his carriage waited. Selene appeared from the shadows as he boarded.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Perfectly." Anthonio settled into his seat, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Contact established, rapport built, future correspondence arranged. And most importantly, Kael Stormborn is now aware that I spoke with her but convinced I'm no real threat."
"He suspects nothing?"
"Nothing meaningful. He's worried I might complicate his plans for her, but he believes I'm too far beneath her status to be a genuine rival." Anthonio looked out the carriage window as they pulled away from the estate. "Which is exactly what I want him to think."
The carriage carried them through the capital's streets, back toward the mountains and the Eternal Mist Pavilion. Anthonio watched the city lights fade behind them, his mind already planning the next moves.
Ten months until the Academy. Ten months of correspondence with Seraphina, gradually building a connection that Kael wouldn't discover until too late. Ten months to steal more opportunities, claim more resources, advance his cultivation further.
*You have three Divine Essences, Kael Stormborn. The gods blessed you with unprecedented power.*
*But I have something you lack—I wrote this story. I know every twist, every turn, every secret. I know your weaknesses before you discover them. I know your opportunities before they appear.*
Crimson lightning crackled across Anthonio's knuckles.
*And I'm going to use that knowledge to take everything you think destiny promised you.*
*Starting with the woman you were supposed to love.*
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**END OF CHAPTER 10**
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