Razeal sighed, but didnât stop. He stepped forward, heading toward the small side entrance where three guards stoodbposted on either side and in front of a narrow open door embedded within the enormous academy gate. It was like a gate within a gate, only about ten feet tall, meant for one person to walk through at a time.
Just beyond them, he spotted Dorn standing at the final checkpoint. A student was already in front of him, likely finishing the admission verification process. Razeal watched as Dorn pressed a small emblem like card to the studentâs forehead, which glowed a faint blue before he was waved through.
As the student cleared the gate, Dorn shouted, "Alright, next!"
Simple enough.
Razeal didnât even bother slowing down. There was no need.
As he approached, the three fully armored guards dressed head to toe in smooth, gray metal stood motionless. Their faces were completely concealed, with only a single horizontal slit for their eyes, giving them a featureless, ominous presence. Normally, they would halt and inspect students, especially checking for the special spatial bags issued by the academy.
Yet none of them moved.
Not one raised a hand to stop him. Not a word spoken. No request for verification. Nothing.
They simply watched.
As if they already knew exactly who he was.
Razeal raised an eyebrow at their lack of reaction, a small grin tugging at his lips.
Of course they know me, he thought smugly. Iâm basically a celebrity around here. And celebrities donât need passes.
He walked straight past them, hands in his pockets, casual as ever.
"Yooo, Warden! Long time no see," Razeal called out as he strolled up, his voice light and laced with sarcasm.
Dorn looked up at the familiar voice. The moment his eyes landed on Razealâs face, his expression froze. A twitch ran through his left eye.
"...Go in," Dorn muttered coldly, stepping aside with a clenched jaw, barely holding his composure.
Razeal smirked wider. "No identity check? No confirmation scan? Tch, how generous today."
"I said go," Dorn growled, barely restraining himself, his voice dangerously close to boiling over.
Razeal chuckled softly, loving every second of it. He strolled past him without pause but threw one last jab over his shoulder.
"I remember someone once said theyâd never let me even step outside the academy gates," he said, his grin turning sharp. "And now? That same someone is opening the door for me. Funny how things change."
"You!" Dornâs hand clenched tightly, his body trembling as anger surged through him.
The emblem card in his grip suddenly cracked shattered from the force of his fury.
"Donât fly too high, kid. Youâd be in pieces if not for orders from above." Dornâs voice was low but seething, like boiling oil forced to stay still. His whole body trembled with restrained fury. Veins popped across his thick neck and forehead, his eyes bloodshot with rage. His fists were clenched so tight, they looked ready to shatter into bone.
When had he, the Warden of Arkanveil ever been humiliated like this? And by a fucking nobody, no less? Some brat with too much mouth and no sense of his own weight.
Razeal, without even bothering to fully turn back, let out a light, mocking chuckle. "Being played by a kid, arenât we now?" he said, throwing Dornâs old words back at him like knives wrapped in silk.
Dornâs jaw tightened. "Just fucking go," he muttered under his breath, trying to steady his breathing. He wasnât some minor figure to snap in public. He was Dornbthe enforcer of the discipline, the one people feared even whispering about. Losing composure over a child would be disgraceful... right?
"Yeah, yeah..." Razeal waved him off, turning his back without another glance as he stepped past the gate. He didnât really care about Dorn in the grand scheme of things but still, some people deserve a parting gift.
"What a coward," Razeal called out, loud enough for the words to echo. "Scared of kid."
And as if on cue
BOOM!
A sharp crack rang out behind him like a small explosion. Metal groaned. Dust stirred. Something had been crushed or broken.
But Razeal didnât care. Didnât look back.
A satisfied smile slowly spread across his face as he whistled casually, straightening the lapel of his polished black and white suit like nothing had happened. His steps didnât stop or change. It was like he hadnât just poured oil over a volcano.
Razeal looked around and marveled at the scenery inside the academy. It truly felt like something pulled straight from the pages of a fantasy novel so many breathtaking sights, and the sheer scale of it all was overwhelming. Vast courtyards spread across the grounds, trimmed hedges shaped into mythical beasts, crystalline fountains dancing with enchanted water, and glowing glass orbs floating overhead that seemed to light the path wherever one walked.
But Razeal didnât let it faze him. Sure, it was stunning, but not something that could impress him too much. He had been born into a Duke family after all, and for the early years of his life, heâd lived inside a sprawling castle that could rival many palaces.
His boots clicked steadily against the cobblestone path leading toward the heart of the academy a gargantuan castle-like structure at the center of it all. On the way, students gathered in small groups, forming clusters by the walkways. They talked, laughed, and occasionally glanced around, clearly enjoying the show of newcomers passing through. Most of them were seniors, judging by their confident postures and lack of nervous energy.
As Razeal continued walking, he noticed something strange. People were watching him.
Well, that wasnât strange in itself. Of course people looked at him. He was a celebrity now, after all. That part made sense. What didnât make sense, though, was how people began stepping aside as he passed not just slightly, but dramatically. It was as if he carried an invisible bubble of repulsion. Everyone moved to the very edge of the stone path, giving him a wide berth as though a deadly beast were passing through.
The path ahead cleared like parting waves, enough to let an entire squad walk beside him. And while part of Razeal wanted to believe it was respect maybe awe at his potential, his strength, or even his good looks..but well his newly acquired Keen Hearing skill told a very different story.
"Hey, donât stand in that guyâs way," someone whispered, fear thick in their voice. "Heâs a total psychopath. Like, literally mental."
"But heâs weak, isnât he? I mean, what can he even do to us? Itâs not like heâs going to fight just because we didnât move out of the way," another replied.
"Bruh, leave it. Better safe than sorry," a third voice chimed in. "This guyâs still alive after doing all kinds of stuff that shouldâve gotten him killed. I donât know how heâs still breathing."
"And you know he slapped the Dukeâs heir in the face yesterday? Just like that. And Areon didnât even react. Not a single move. Look... heâs alive."
"If someone like him didnât retaliate after getting slapped, what the hell do you think we could do? If he decides to slap us out of nowhere, and we hit him back, weâd be the ones getting executed."
"Heâs alive after all that. Must be luck, right? If I had even half that guyâs luck, Iâd have conquered half the world by now," someone scoffed.
Razealâs eye twitched. "Luck? My ass."
That one line made him feel like someone had just hexed his soul.
Half his luck? Whoever said that better be ready to be buried ten feet under the ground. And forget Hell Lucifer himself might refuse to take in someone with that kind of cursed fate.
As for the rest of it, Razeal didnât know how to feel. Being feared without doing anything? He wasnât sure if it was satisfying, infuriating, or just plain absurd.
"System, you hearing this?" he muttered in his mind, eyes glinting. "Iâve managed to make every single one of them scared without even showing one percent of my power yesterday.. Am i a good villain now?."
["Fear? Bruhh, no. Host, theyâre not in awe. Theyâre flabbergasted by your suicide skills. You look like a guy who speedruns death scenarios."]
The voice in his head was casual, amused. Then it added, ["Just a reminder: Only seven days left until your official death day. Will you be strong enough by then?"]
Razeal didnât answer immediately. His eyes looked ahead, pupils narrowing as he saw the academy gates looming in the distance a whole new world waiting beyond.
"Donât worry," he said under his breath, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. "I wonât die... probably as farr as i think and have planned.
He rolled his shoulders back and walked through the parting crowd like a shadow king reclaiming his throne mocked, feared, and deadly silent. Whatever came next, he was ready for it.
Suddenly, as Razeal was walking, a voice cut through the murmur of the academy grounds.
"Hey, is that the guy whose posters are everywhere? The one called the disgusting pig?"
Razeal paused mid-step, his expression unchanged, though his fingers twitched just slightly in annoyance. Footsteps approached heavy and deliberate.
"Of course there are still idiots," Razeal muttered under his breath, dramatically placing a hand over his face. "How could it be a proper fantasy novel without a few clowns showing up on cue?"
"Oiii! Stop, little piggy!"
He turned, slowly, only to find himself facing a trio of walking stereotypes. A bulky, muscular guy with wild yellow hair stood in the center, flanked by two black-haired, skinny followers, both with the same look of forced arrogance masked under a layer of cowardice.
Razeal stopped, not out of surprise, but out of sheer disbelief at how textbook their entrance was.
The yellow-haired brute laughed loudly. "See? I called out âlittle piggyâ and he stopped! Are you really a piggy? Hahaha!"
His two lackeys laughed too, awkwardly, clearly more out of obligation than genuine amusement. It was the kind of laugh one gives when oneâs survival depends on it.
Razeal just stared at them blankly.
[Nahh, Host. Donât even think about it. You wonât be able to beat them. Theyâre seniors. Honestly, right now you canât even take a first year, let alone these muscleheads,] the system warned, already sensing a fight brewing.
Razeal cracked his neck, shrugging off the warning. "What do you want, kids?"
The yellow-haired boy puffed his chest like a gorilla. "Kids?! Weâre your seniors here, freshman! This is your first day, right? Then this is ragging! You havenât paid proper respect yet. Come on, bow and call me âDaddy.â"
He pulled out a notebook from behind his back and uncapped a pen, clearly intending to keep a tally of how many freshmen he could get to call him that.
Razeal stared at him, utterly expressionless.
How dumb can someone be? he wondered. How did he even get into this academy with that kind of IQ? Did they test intelligence with a rock-throwing contest?
As he stood there contemplating the IQ drop around him, one of the skinny followers leaned in and whispered to the yellow haired boy. But Razeal could hear it all ofcourse .
"Boss... this is the guy who has been marked by the Empire. Heâs got an official protection order. No citizen is allowed to harm him for the next week. We should... maybe not mess with him."
The yellow-haired boy blinked. "Ohh? Is that so...? Iâve heard of that too. But wasnât the limit that he just canât be fatally harmed? Doesnât mean he canât take a few bruises, right?" He chuckled.
He turned to Razeal again. "Look, Iâm not scared of you. Others might be, but not me. I am Kameal! I stand for my ideals! I fear no one not some pig in a suit, not even the academy itself!"
The moment those words were spoken, it was as if the entire area held its breath.
Conversations halted. Students who had been walking stopped mid-stride. Those who had been seated turned to look. All eyes were on them.
Razealâs lips twitched upward into a crooked, amused smile.
"This guy really doesnât get it," he muttered to himself. "Guess weâre doing this."
And with that, the air itself grew heavy as a storm of tension surged through the academy grounds...
[Host, youâre going to get embarrassed here... Getting beaten on the first day of the academy? Thatâs embarrassing. Letâs not try this. Youâre not at his level how about some other day?] the system spoke in a soft, almost pleading tone, like a worried older brother trying to keep his hot-headed sibling from charging into a lionâs den.
But Razeal just blinked, confused.
"Who said Iâm going to fight him?"
[Wait... what? But didnât you just say youâre gonna.. wait... No. Donât tell me youâre going to call him daddy?!] The system suddenly panicked, as if its entire digital existence had been shattered in one sentence. [Damn, Host... never in my dreams first that âMommyâ and now this?! Did you actually like being called Good boy that much? Tsk tsk... Host, never could I have expected this path from you.]
"Just shut the fuck up," Razeal snarled mentally, grinding his teeth.
Seriously, what kind of system did he end up with?
Who said someone needs to be touched to be beaten? he thought, a devilish grin curling at the edge of his lips. See and learn, system. Watch how I wreck this fool without even laying a finger on him.
Call him Daddy? The word.
Thatâs way too fucking far.
---
Ahh, sorry guys running a bit late today. đ
I actually wrote the Chapter earlier, but when I went back to edit it, something just didnât feel right. So... I scrapped it and started fresh. Hereâs the new version!
Also, I want to give a special shout-out to some amazing people
Top Three Golden Ticket Contributors This Month:
1. KarmelKorn â 18 tickets
2. mac_joe257 â 3 tickets
3. Khamari_Emz... â 3 tickets
Thank you all, my lovely pumpkins, for the support!
And an extra thank you to KarmelKorn for the luxury car today youâre just spoiling me!
As a little thank-you: one extra Chapter coming tomorrow! Stay tuned!
Also thank ya all for reading
~Lazy
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