Kieran Ji didn't just look away; he recoiled as if the air itself had turned to glass and shattered. Terror, thick and suffocating, clamped down on his throat, strangling any hope of a plea.
He stared at Ethan Lyle, who stood framed by the flickering, dying arcs of violet lightning. Only one word pulsed in Kieran’s mind, drowning out the ringing in his ears.
Lunatic.
The man was a goddamn psychopath. Most people traded insults; Ethan Lyle traded Forbidden Incantations. Three of them. Over a few bruised egos? It wasn't just overkill—it was suicidal.
Regret tasted like bile. If Kieran could have swallowed a pill to undo the last ten minutes, he would have crawled three miles in the opposite direction the moment he saw Ethan’s shadow. A Forbidden Incantator was a threat, sure. But a Forbidden Incantator who didn't value his own life? That was a walking natural disaster.
"Ethan Lyle! Stop! In the name of—stop!"
Gao, the Academy Principal, practically skidded across the courtyard, his face the color of a ripe beet as he burst from the administration building.
Ethan’s eyes flickered. The lethal hum of the World-Rending Tempest dissipated instantly. He wasn't stupid enough to commit a murder in front of the man who held his graduation papers—especially not when the victim was the heir to the Vance Corporation.
Ethan clenched his fists, his knuckles white, his body trembling with a choreographed frailty. His face was a mask of deathly pallor, the "rebound" of the spells clearly taking its toll.
"Principal... I..." Ethan’s voice trailed off, thick with the sound of a man pushed past his breaking point.
"Don't. You don't have to say a word," Gao snapped, his fury pivoting toward Kieran. He’d heard the rumors of Kieran’s pursuit of Nira Ashford, and he’d spent years looking the other way while the Ji boy bullied his peers. It was the price of doing business with the Vance Corporation.
But this? This was a bridge too far. Pushing an SSS-rank talent to the point of a suicide-strike was more than bullying; it was sabotage. If Ethan Lyle died before the Grand Trial, Gao’s reputation—and the school’s standing—would burn with him.
"Kieran Ji, get up!" Gao roared. "Now! Apologize to Ethan Lyle. This instant!"
Gao expected resistance. He expected the usual arrogance of a silver-spooned brat. He was already rehearsing the threats he’d use to break the boy’s pride.
He didn't need them.
Thump.
Kieran didn't just apologize; he hit the gravel on both knees.
"Ethan, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I was wrong," Kieran blurted, the words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "The girl—Nira—she’s yours! I’m done. I won’t touch her. I won’t even look at her!"
When his life was on the line, Kieran’s pride was as thin as wet paper. He was the sole heir to a multi-billion dollar empire; he had a lifetime of luxury ahead of him. He wasn't about to let some penniless martyr take him to the grave.
Gao blinked, stunned by the sheer velocity of the surrender. Is this actually the same kid? The Kieran Ji he knew acted like he owned the sky and the earth.
"Ethan, what do you think?" Gao asked, his voice losing some of its edge.
Ethan pressed his lips together, his expression hard and unwavering. "I accept. But remember this, Kieran: I might be a scholarship kid, but I have enough blood to paint this courtyard. Don't test my patience again."
"Never! Never again!" Kieran nodded so hard his neck threatened to snap. He kept one eye on Ethan’s hands, terrified a spell circle might manifest if he breathed too loudly.
"Sir, I think I need to go home and rest," Ethan said, turning to Gao with a polite, exhausted nod.
"Of course. Go. Rest. We’ll see you at the Rift tomorrow."
Ethan turned and walked away. He had achieved exactly what he wanted. By tomorrow, the story of the "Suicidal SSS-Rank Lunatic" would be the gospel of Verdant City. No one would bother him. No one would try to extort him. Fear was the best shield a man like him could ask for.
Nira Ashford watched him leave, her eyes cold and judgmental. She shook her head, a soft, dismissive sigh escaping her lips.
"A mindless brute," she whispered to herself. "To throw your life away over a few words... it’s pathetic. Even with an SSS-rank class, a man like that won't last a month."
In her mind, Ethan Lyle was already a dead man walking. They might have awakened SSS-classes on the same day, but they lived in different universes. In five years, she would be a queen of the Awakened. In five years, Ethan Lyle would be a pile of bleached bones in some forgotten dungeon.
The Hollow was the armpit of Verdant City—a sprawl of rusted shipping containers and leaking sewage. It was also the perfect place for a man with a secret to disappear.
Inside his cramped shack, Ethan sat on his bed and pulled out a notebook.
"Sacrificing a section of the duodenum summons standard lightning," he muttered, scribbling. "The bladder grants Abyssal Yin Thunder. The heart... that brings out the Void-Rend Violet Lightning."
He was calculating the 'cost' of his World-Rending Tempest based on his encounter with Kieran. To keep his secret, he had sacrificed internal organs that were invisible to the naked eye.
"So, to call down the Chaos Divinity Bolt, I’d probably have to sacrifice my entire physical form in one go. No wonder they call it a Forbidden Incantation."
He smiled. For a normal man, it was a one-time-use suicide button. For someone with the Undying Constitution, it was just a spicy price tag. Even at Level 1, he was confident he could wipe out any Awakened under Level 5 if he went all-out.
With a thought, he felt the familiar, itchy warmth of regeneration. His missing organs knit back together in seconds. The pallor left his face, replaced by a healthy glow. He laid back and closed his eyes, falling into a sleep as deep and silent as the grave.
While Ethan slept, the Ji mansion was in an uproar.
"Dad! You have to kill him! You have to!" Kieran wailed, pacing the length of his father’s opulent office. "He shamed me in front of the whole school! I had to kneel! I’ll never live this down!"
His afternoon sincerity had evaporated the moment he felt the safety of his father’s guards.
Mr. Ji sat behind a desk carved from dark mana-wood, a thick cigar clamped between his teeth. He watched his son through a veil of blue smoke, his expression unreadable.
"Kieran," the older man said, his voice a low rumble. "I have taught you a thousand times: a businessman does not act on emotion. He weighs profit against risk."
He leaned forward. "If I send a hit squad and they succeed, what do we gain? A bit of 'face' for you? A minor ego boost?"
Kieran froze.
Mr. Ji tapped his cigar. "And if they fail? We have an SSS-rank Forbidden Incantator with a death wish as our eternal enemy. A man who will spend every waking breath trying to drag the Vance Corporation into hell with him. Is your ego worth the entire company?"
Kieran’s throat went dry.
"Those you bullied before were nobodies. The Unawakened. You can kill them by the dozen and it doesn't move the needle," Mr. Ji continued. "But Ethan Lyle is different. He is high risk, zero reward."
"So... I just stay away from him?" Kieran asked sullenly.
"No." Mr. Ji’s eyes sharpened. "Quite the opposite. You will follow him. You will become his shadow. You will treat him as your superior."
"What? Why?!"
"Because," Mr. Ji smiled, "a man who tries to kill himself over a minor insult is a man with no brains and too much pride. If the heir to Vance Corporation becomes his lackey, imagine how much 'face' that gives him. You become his shield, and more importantly, he becomes your sword."
Mr. Ji stood up. "Let the world say Forbidden Incantators die young. They never say they are weak. For the price of a little pride, we get an SSS-rank bodyguard for free. And we both know this family has more money than it does pride."
Kieran’s eyes lit up. The logic was cold, corporate, and perfect. "I get it, Dad."
The next morning, Ethan arrived at the school gates. The crowd of students parted like the Red Sea, whispers of "The Psycho" following in his wake. He ignored them.
"Ethan! Ethan Lyle!"
Ethan stopped, his hand straying toward a mental trigger for a spell. Kieran Ji was sprinting toward him, but he wasn't carrying a weapon. He was carrying... a lunchbox?
"Ethan! You probably skipped breakfast, right? Here. Freshly made," Kieran panted, thrusting a designer lunchbox and a bottle of premium milk toward him.
Ethan stared at the box, then at Kieran. "Is it poisoned? Did you realize you couldn't beat me, so you're trying to melt my stomach?"
"No! God, no!" Kieran opened the box, ripped off a piece of the wagyu beef sandwich, and shoved it into his own mouth. He took a swig of the milk for good measure. "See? Totally safe. Just... a gesture of goodwill."
Ethan took the sandwich. He was a scholarship kid who had sold a kidney to pay for his Awakening Ritual; he wasn't about to turn down a thirty-dollar sandwich. He started eating, watching Kieran with narrowed eyes.
"Ethan," Kieran said, his voice dripping with rehearsed sincerity. "Yesterday, your power... it woke me up. Like a bolt of lightning to my soul. I realized I’ve been wasting my life."
Ethan swallowed. "Actually, it was a bolt of lightning. Get to the point."
Kieran coughed. "I want to call you 'Boss.' I want to learn from you."
Ethan paused, a half-chewed bite of beef in his cheek. The hell? I tried to look like a lunatic to keep people away, and I accidentally recruited a golden retriever?
"Learning isn't free," Ethan said, wiping his mouth. "There’s a tuition fee."
"Of course! Just name it. What’s your account number?" Kieran pulled a portable card reader from his back pocket.
"Twenty million," Ethan said flatly. "As a deposit."
Kieran choked. "Twenty... twenty million? Boss, even for me, that’s—"
Ethan gave him a look of pure, concentrated pity. The kind of look a billionaire might give a beggar. "Oh. You don't have it? My mistake. I thought the Vance Corporation actually had money."
Kieran’s face turned purple. To be called a "poor kid" by a guy living in The Hollow was a psychic blow more painful than the lightning.
"Wait right here! I’m calling my father!" Kieran stormed off, barking into his phone.
Ethan didn't wait. He finished the milk and hopped onto the bus heading for the Initiate's Rift. He didn't want to catch whatever brain rot Kieran was suffering from.
The bus pulled up to the Rift entrance—a shimmering tear in reality surrounded by thousands of students from every school in Verdant City.
Near the front, Principal Gao was practically glowing. He had his arms around the shoulders of two rival principals, his voice loud enough to carry across the plaza.
"Oh, it’s a burden, really! I told my kids, 'Stay humble! One SSS-rank is enough!' But no, they don't listen! They just had to awaken two of them. It’s honestly embarrassing how much talent we have this year. Haha! Ha!"
The other principals looked like they were sucking on lemons.
"I... I think I left my stove on," one muttered, breaking away.
"My school has a... thing. A martial thing. Goodbye," said another.
Gao didn't care. He was retiring next year. He was going out on a peak that would haunt these men for a decade.
As the Verdant High line reached the Rift gate, Nira Ashford stepped up. She glanced at Ethan, her expression softening just a fraction—the pity of a goddess for a mortal.
"It’s not too late to party up, Ethan," she said coldly. "The Rift is dangerous for a solo caster. Especially one with... your issues."
Ethan didn't even slow down. He walked past her, his eyes fixed on the shimmering portal.
"I’ll pass," he said.
He stepped into the light and vanished.
Nira watched the spot where he had been, her jaw tightening. "Arrogant fool. If you want to die early, I won't be the one to stop you."