Chapter 409: Homecoming [III]

I won’t lie, I totally forgot about this arc.

The

Ace Tournament

happened right after our dear heroes returned from the

Noctveil Wilds

, arriving on the Ascent Isles only to find Academy City completely changed.

Why? Because there was a surge of unrecognizable faces. New Cadets had transferred to Apex from all around the world.

In their absence, all those who were lost in the

Noctveil Wilds

were presumed dead. One of those unfortunate souls was Michael, the Ace of Apex in the game.

Long story short, following that declaration, the title of Ace was then up for grabs. As such, every first-year Cadet in the Academy pounced at the chance.

So to avoid all that potential chaos and mayhem, Apex arranged a proper tournament and decided to broadcast it as a testament to the world, showing how their Cadets still stood strong even after such a crushing tragedy.

The decision was a hit.

After all, who

wouldn’t

want to see a bunch of Awakened kids fighting each other bloody?

Everything was going well, until, Michael spawned out of nowhere, very much alive and very much demanding his title back. His argument was that since he never lost it, he should be reinstated immediately.

But the Academy administration, ever the fans of bureaucracy and good television, had a different idea.

The tournament was already in full swing. The sponsors had paid, the matches were underway, and the viewership was through the roof.

They couldn’t just hand the crown back because a dead man walked through the front gate and all of a sudden announced he was alive. The profit would drain down the gutter.

So instead, they told Michael that if he wanted the title back, he had to take it back by entering the tournament as the ultimate wildcard in the final round.

As for what the final round was? A

Ten-Day Hundred-Player Battle Royale challenge

!

Because, again, who

wouldn’t

want to see one-hundred Awakened kids trapped on an island, fighting tooth and nail till there was a last man standing?

Hence, ninety-nine of the most ambitious transfers and original first-years who had survived the qualifying rounds participated in it along with Michael.

It was here that we first met Casey Torr Snowrite and Kaelron Vire in the story, two of the smartest and strongest new Cadets, future war prodigies and main characters.

Needless to say, the storyline was fun.

Even I, who usually disliked Tournament Arcs in academy fiction — because, in my opinion, they were overdone — absolutely loved it!

Perhaps it was because of how they executed it.

There’s something uniquely satisfying about a

’Return of the King’

trope, you know?

All that hype that the main character gets, the way he shows up and easily dismantles the pristine status quo, the way he forces the new geniuses to realize that there is a terrifying gap between him and them

Ahh~! Truly, I love when that stuff happens.

...But only in stories.

Only

in stories!

Because in reality,

I

was the Ace!

And

I

didn’t want to go around flexing my superiority over insufferable transfers, chasing clout and dominating a fresh batch of smug young masters!

Sure, I loved being in the spotlight. But I also hated doing extra work! Especially for a title that I never even lost to anyone!

Which was exactly why I was currently locked in a heated screaming contest with the Cadet Council President, Vereshia Morrigan herself.

"Why do you

always

make my life difficult?" Vereshia all but groaned, her silver hair disheveled around a bewitching face that I didn’t remember looking quite so weary. Her bright red eyes were fixed on me, shooting me an alarming glare.

I threw my hands up. "Me?!

I’m

making

your

life difficult? You declared me dead!"

"The Academy did, actually."

"You’re the Cadet Council President!"

"Grandmasters were involved in the decision."

"Okay, so whose idea was it to start a tournament for the first-years’ Ace title and broadcast it?"

Vereshia averted her gaze. Her silence was as loud as a confession.

I was in her office right now, surrounded by a bunch of other Council Members who looked just as tired as she was.

All were either sitting at their own desks or occupying sofas and bean bags in the center of the office space, restlessly punching numbers on computers, drafting all sorts of official documents, and managing meeting calls.

Goodness, they were overworked.

But all my focus was on Vereshia, who was staring intently at a stack of documents on her mahogany desk, suddenly finding the fine print of a budget proposal deeply fascinating.

"Don’t look away!" I snapped. "Answer me, dammit!"

"It was a logical decision!" Vereshia snapped back, weakly slamming her hands onto the tabletop. "The student body was demoralized. The public thought Apex was a graveyard. We needed a spectacle of strength, and you — the previous first-year Ace — were officially listed as MIA, Presumed Deceased. We couldn’t exactly keep the throne warm for a ghost!"

"I wasn’t a ghost! I was stuck in the Spirit Realm! Do you have any idea how bad the phone reception is there? Non-existent! So I couldn’t exactly send a

’hang in there’

text!" I leaned over the desk, invading her personal space. "And now you want me to participate in the tournament to get my title back? What bullshit is this? I have already fought against monsters and nightmares far beyond any of those kids’ comprehension! Dueling them would be a chore, Lady Vereshia!"

One of the Council members, a lanky boy with thick glasses who was buried under a mountain of holographic charts, looked up hesitantly. He reminded me of Ivan, for some reason.

"Actually, Lord Samael," he said, "the betting pools for your first-appearance match are already exceeding the annual income of a small county. People want to see this Tyrant they’ve all been hearing about going all out."

"...See? You’re using me for clicks!" I pointed a finger at him, then back at the silver-haired girl across the desk. "I want compensation. I want my vault access back. I want the media off my ass. And I want a very, very large smoothie delivered to my room every morning for the duration of this semester."

"Then will you fight?" Vereshia looked at me hopefully.

"No!" I grabbed my head, on the verge of spilling frustrated tears. "No, I won’t fight! I don’t want any more inconvenience, Lady Vereshia! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of working! I want to sleep on my bed in an air-conditioned room, eating expensive takeout while bingeing through the latest episodes of my favorite reality shows that I missed in the last four months! Is that too much to ask for?!"

Vereshia lowered her head and went silent for a few seconds. I may have been imagining it, but I swear I saw her face darkening, making the sharp glow of her blood-red eyes stand out dangerously.

"Inconvenience?" Her voice dropped to a whisper that was somehow louder than her shouting.

On the far side of the office, the lanky boy switched off the holographic charts and slowly pushed his chair back, retreating into the shadows of a filing cabinet. He knew the signs.

Everyone in the Council knew the signs. They all started scattering around like rats leaving a sinking ship.

...Only I didn’t know the signs. I should’ve run off too.

"You think I like this?" she hissed, slowly rising from her chair like a vengeful spirit. "You think I enjoy managing a school that has become a global PR disaster? Do

you

have any idea how many angry phone calls I’ve taken from the Great Houses? Do you know how many times I’ve had to face those annoying reporters and angry mobs? Do you know how much time it took me to fix this?!"

Usually, that responsibility should’ve fallen on the shoulders of the Grandmasters. But I realised they had all collectively thrown this poor girl under the bus.

Well, to be fair, they needed to deal with much more important issues like investigating what happened in the

Night Sanctuary

, reporting to the Monarchs, dealing with the fallout of the worsening global affairs and whatnot.

Still, seeing Vereshia’s eye twitch like a ticking time bomb made me understand that

’fair’

was a word she had probably deleted from her vocabulary months ago.

"I have not slept for more than three hours a night since what happened to you all! Caffeine and spite are all that have kept me alive! And now you’re back — which is

wonderful

, don’t get me wrong — but instead of helping me stabilize the Cadet body, you’re standing here demanding...

smoothies

?!"

I tried to take a step back, all too stunned by the sheer volume of her exhaustion. "In my defense, they sell these really good smoothies. The ones with the little umbrellas—"

"Samael!" she screamed, quickly swooping forward and grabbing me by the collar. I suddenly wished I had asked my knights to accompany me inside. "Don’t start! Don’t you dare start! Your family has already fucked me over! Both your father and your sister! I don’t have the energy to deal with another Theosbane!"

Goodness gracious! It was the first time I ever heard her curse, I think.

"No, because seriously! What is up with you lot in the West?!" She pulled my face in until my forehead was pressing against hers. I would’ve blushed a little if I weren’t so scared for my life. "First, your father starts a war with the South and drags the Academy into the mess, knowing I would have to step up and join his side with my family’s fleets! Then, your sister comes here and asks me to continue with the tournament no matter what tricks you try! Finally, you make your glorious return... in broad daylight! Couldn’t you have at least waited until night to dock your plane?! Did you look at the massive uproar your entrance caused outside?!"

I was about to argue, but the ridiculously loud chants and cheers, muffled by the reinforced windows of the Council office, were still audible. It was like a booming background track to my impending execution.

I swallowed. "On second thought, I think I’m willing to agree to some of your demands, Lady Vereshia."

She let go of my collar, brushed off her gown, sat back down on her chair and crossed her legs like the entire last minute didn’t even happen.

Then she sighed and gave me a deeply sympathetic look. "Listen, I understand. In my first year, I’ve had to go through a similar tragedy. It was nowhere near as grand as yours, but so many things happened to me on that mission. I’m pretty sure I even died once. When I returned, my mental health was in absolute shambles. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out."

She leaned back, and when I gazed into her eyes this time, I saw equal parts understanding and pity. "Why don’t you just let the title go? Relax a bit. You’ve had a long journey. Challenge the Ace again in your second year, whoever ends up being one. Your sister is likely to win this tournament. Let her. Because if you enter and win, you know you’ll have to be the one to go to the

Iron Height

mission your family requested, right? Unless you’re thinking of defying them — not forcing the mission onto the first-years, and not forcing me to enter a trade by proxy."

I was quiet for a heartbeat or two before slowly shaking my head. "I can’t do that."