The guy with the academy uniform perched at the edge of the table stepped forward, an arrogant smirk plastered across his lips.
Hands shoved in his pockets, he sauntered toward me with exaggerated nonchalance.
“Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is David Lumberg, third year, fifteenth rank,” he said.
I only nodded, refusing to dignify him with a response.
“Not much of a speaker, are you?” he sneered.
“You did surprisingly well in the first test—especially for someone known as the useless heir.” Arrogance dripped from every word.
Irritation flickered within me, but I buried it quickly and remained composed.
“You talk a lot for someone ranked fifteenth in your year.” His grin faltered for an instant, but he refused to rise to my bait.
“You talk about fifteen as if it’s a failing—someone like you could only dream of such a rank.
Intelligence alone won’t get you into the Star Class.” His smile widened as he continued, “Especially with a one-star aspect.
What was it again?
Ah, Night Vision.” He chuckled mockingly.
“The fa—”
But he trailed off; his eyes widened, lips pressed tightly together in sudden fear, his body almost imperceptibly trembling.
My brow furrowed.
Why the sudden change in his demeanour?
He looked like a frightened kitten.
“You have one minute to show us what you can do.
We don’t expect you to win.
Begin when you’re ready.” I nodded, then called out to Hokoria.
“Hokoria, I’ll need you now.” I had to go all out—showing everything I had to earn the highest evaluation possible.
Hiding my power wasn’t my style anyway, and I hated holding back and hiding power to seem edgy and mysterious.
It only made people look down on me, and I refused to let that happen again.
Instead of answering, a black rift opened to my right—the same one from earlier.
It distorted the air, swallowing light and emitting a low, ominous hum.
Every eye in the room narrowed; everyone except the headmaster, who had already witnessed this phenomenon during my fight—though I doubted she knew what it really was.
I reached in and gripped the katana’s hilt.
Instantly, a surge of power coursed through me—as if the blade itself was feeding me essence.
I drew the katana out of the rift, withdrawing it through the nearest opening.
At first glance, the katana’s hilt caught my eye—the end cap shimmered gold, crimson rayskin peeking through the black wrap.
The guard separating hilt from blade gleamed with the same golden sheen.
The black radiated a mysterious, menacing aura.
As I drew the sword free, its black-and-gold scabbard caught the light—truly an extraordinary weapon.
Suddenly, the scrape of a chair snapped me from my reverie.
The sound jolted me from my daze.
Everyone’s eyes were locked on the sword in my hand, none of them grasping the overwhelming sensation radiating from it.
Only the history teacher, Isak, stood—his voice trembling, eyes wide, as if they might pop from their sockets.
He opened his mouth, lips quivering.
“N-no way.
That sword—a black, red-gold tachi and that presence, that arrogant pride presence.
Is it?
No, it can’t be.” Isak’s voice shook.
He took off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt, and put them back on, but quickly realised his vision wasn’t failing him.
“What’s wrong, Isak?” Talia asked, her tone wary as she watched his shifting reaction.
“What is that sword?” She finally voiced the question on everyone’s mind.
Isak drew a deep breath, his shock morphing into near-fanatical excitement.
“That’s one of the legendary swords,” he declared.
Talia slammed her hands on the table, eyes wide with disbelief as she shot to her feet.
Do you realise what you’re saying, Isak?!”
“Do I look like the type to spout nonsense, Talia?” he retorted.
“That sword is one of the fourteen legendary blades—and one of the seven cursed swords—Hokoria, wielded by Zenith Everblack five hundred years ago.
Now even my sister, usually indifferent, listened intently.
“Zenith Everblack,” Amon repeated, tasting the name on his tongue before his smile faded into a thoughtful frown.
The emotionless woman murmured something to the headmaster, too quiet for me to catch, while Talia stood frozen in stunned silence, her jaw dropped.
Only the student facing me and I seemed not to grasp the weight of that name.
I’d heard of Everblack before, but never Zenith.
Everblack was once an eight-star family—but that was centuries ago, before they were wiped from existence.
Everything about them is highly classified; almost nothing is known among commoners.
Isak continued, his excitement growing with every word.
“And even when Zenith wielded that sword, it was too prideful to accept him as its master.
But…” Isak paused.
“It seems the Dragaoth heir managed to tame her.”
The room fell into uneasy silence.
Every gaze shifted to me, scrutinising me from head to toe.
I doubted most believed his words; Octevia, however, wore a faint smirk that honestly unsettled me.
I could sense Hokoria growing smug, a snort of pride leaving her throat.
“You hear that, brat?
You’re lucky I chose you.
Feel honoured, because I, the mightiest of the legendary swords, would lower myse—”
“I forced you,” I said, cutting her off.
“I chose you, bastard.
You think a puny insect like you could force me with your pitiful power?”
I rolled my eyes and coughed loudly to get everyone’s attention.
Just as I was about to speak, I was interrupted by a question.
“Where did you get that blade?” the headmaster asked, the slitted pupils in her blood-red eyes narrowing slightly.
“I can’t answer that, headmaster.” There was no point lying to her; she’d know instantly.
Her authority allowed her to sense heartbeats through the ground—and even if I could control mine, she’d feel every twitch of my body.
There was no hiding anything from her.
She didn’t press further; curious though she might be, she had no right to demand it.
Not answering her question would no doubt make academy life harder.
I sighed inwardly and strapped the katana to my waist.
I turned my attention to the guy, who now regarded me with a hint of jealousy—definitely not what I’d expected.
My orange essence flared as I channelled it, activating my Aspect.
Apex perception eyes: the world shifted to black and white, my pupils narrowing to predatory slits as I focused entirely on the man before me.
He was slightly startled by my intense gaze, but his arrogance didn’t waver; he kept his hands in his pockets, feigning indifference.
Even without a fighting stance, I could see a single opening on his body glowing white.
I wasn’t discouraged; it would be naive to think I could truly challenge a third-year from the Star Class.
His arrogance was justified.
But I wasn’t here to win—I just intended to pour everything into one decisive attack to impress the evaluators.
I spread my feet and bent my knees, one hand gripping the katana’s hilt and the other steadying the scabbard.
It was the same stance I’d seen in my vision—Void Severer’s First Style: Void Flash.
I strained my eyes for any possible opening, but there was nothing—the arrogant man, calm as he appeared, was no pushover.
I strained even harder, focusing so intensely that blood began to trickle from my eyes.
Still, nothing.
The bastard just smirked, relishing my frustration.
Is my presence so overwhelming you can’t even move?
Did staring at me for too long make your eyes bleed?” he laughed, taunting.
“Oi, boy,” Hokoria called out.
“Gather all your essence into the tattoo, then release it all in a single burst.” I blinked in confusion.
“Are you actually helping me?”
“Don’t get it twisted, brat—I’m just sick of that bastard’s arrogance.
I’ve no intention of helping you.” I didn’t buy that excuse, but I let it go.
A smirk tugged at my lips as I gathered all my essence into the tattoo, letting it build rather than releasing it immediately.
I didn’t know what effect this would have, but I knew I’d be drained afterwards.
When I felt nearly all my essence gathered, I didn’t hesitate.
I released everything at once, shifting the atmosphere in the room; I focused it directly at the guy in front of me.
Instantly, his smug smirk vanished, eyes widening as his body froze.
His aura, previously white, turned blood red—his entire body was now unguarded.
Instantly, I performed the first move: Void Flash.
I unsheathed the katana so fast I barely saw it, even with my aspect active.
A black trail followed as I streaked across my vision.
In the next instant, I saw the arrogant man’s horrified face slashed diagonally across the nose.
Blood gushed as his upper face slowly slid down onto the floor, and his body soon followed, going limp.
Thud.
Blood pooled on the ground, a new and gruesome stain.
His brains were visible from his split skull.
It was disgusting, to say the least.
My brows shot up in surprise.
I had actually killed him.
I hadn’t expected the curse to freeze him enough for me to kill him.
But I’d still missed my mark; I was aiming for his throat, not his face.
And I didn’t even reset my stance—I was too slow and inexperienced.
Still, I’d hit my target for the first time, so that was something.
I averted my gaze from the grisly scene, nausea rising in my throat, and looked to the evaluators.
As expected, they were speechless.
Both Isak and Talia looked dumbfounded.
I couldn’t blame them; I’d never heard of a third-year losing to someone who wasn’t even a first-year—not even in the game.
Even the headmaster looked shocked, blinking rapidly in stunned silence.
I unstrapped the katana and let it fall, but before it hit the ground, a rift swallowed it whole.
I turned to Amon.
Unlike the others, his face showed not just shock but a dark, calculating expression.
He was probably piecing things together, just as I’d expected.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of worry.
The Star Dust Group would definitely come after me after this performance.
I glanced over at Octevia but noticed her seat was empty.
My brow furrowed, and as I looked around, I found her standing right in front of me.
Startled, I jumped back and landed hard on my backside.
“You’re coming with me,” she demanded, her expression unreadable.
“What?” An uneasy feeling built inside me.
Before I could react, my shirt was yanked from behind.
I looked back to see my older sister grabbing me by the collar and dragging me across the floor.
I started sobbing involuntarily.
What had I done now?
I’d made sure not to speak to her, yet she was still going to beat me up.
Bloody hell—forget the Black Star position; I’d be lucky if I made it out alive.