(Cassandra Everwyn's POV)
The golden sunlight of Aurelia's morning barely reached the darkened chamber where Cassandra Everwyn lay awake.
She hadn't slept.
Not really.
Her body had rested, but her mind had been elsewhere—trapped in memories of the past, tangled in the growing storm of hatred and regret.
Today was the first day of the Grand Arcanum Academy.
A fresh start.
A chance to rise higher, to prove herself, to leave the past behind.
And yet—
The moment she opened her crimson eyes, she thought of him.
Leon Valerius.
The boy she had once loved.
The boy she now wanted dead.
Cassandra sat up, her long raven-black hair spilling over her shoulders as she stared at the dim morning light filtering through her chamber's silk curtains.
Her born room was luxurious, she didn't get special treatment but her maid has added decorations expected of Duke Everwyn's daughter chamber—golden chandeliers, velvet furniture, enchanted mirrors.
But to her, it felt empty.
A prison built by expectations.
She had spent years perfecting herself, mastering her swordsmanship, her mana control, her wrath and envy.
All to prove she was worthy.
Worthy of standing at Leon's side.
Worthy of being chosen.
And in the end—
He had never even looked at her.
Not the way he looked at Evelyn.
Her hands clenched the silk sheets beneath her.
The memory of his smirk at the Awakening Ceremony still burned in her mind.
The gods had granted him power.
Had given him a second chance.
But why?
Why did Leon get to rise again, after destroying everything?
Why was he allowed to stand tall while her family's reputation was still recovering from the fallout of his mistakes?
Why did she still care?
Cassandra exhaled sharply and pushed herself out of bed.
Dwelling on the past was useless.
Today, she would begin her own legend.
Leon Valerius was nothing more than a stepping stone in her path to glory.
At least… that's what she told herself.
****
By the time she left her private bath, the Academy's bells were already tolling across the city.
Her personal maid, Lydia, was waiting with her uniform—black and silver, the Everwyn colors proudly woven into the fine fabric.
"You seem tense today, my lady," Lydia murmured as she helped Cassandra fasten her sword belt.
Cassandra gave a short huff. "It's a day worth being tense for."
Lydia smiled knowingly. "Because of the Academy? Or because of him?"
Cassandra stiffened.
She didn't need to ask who Lydia meant.
Now even, her own people wondered what would happen between them.
"He's insignificant," she said coolly, adjusting her gloves.
Lydia bowed her head. "Of course, my lady."
And yet, as Cassandra strode toward the door, her sword clinking softly at her side, she couldn't shake the feeling that today…
Would be anything but normal.
****
The academy grounds were breathtaking—a city within a city, filled with towering marble halls, ancient spell-forged statues, and fields enchanted to bloom with everlasting mana-flowers.
The strongest of the Empire's youth walked these halls.
Future warlords, scholars, and rulers.
And today, she would carve her name among them.
But as she stepped into the history lecture hall—where the new students were gathering for their first official assembly—
She saw him.
Leon.
Standing tall among the nobles, clad in the same black and gold uniform.
His golden hair caught the sunlight.
His blue eyes still shined with arrogance.
And worst of all—
He was smiling as if nothing had ever changed.
As if he hadn't ruined everything.
As if she wasn't right there, watching him with all the hatred in the world.
Cassandra's grip tightened around the hilt of her sword.
Today wasn't just the first day of class.
It was the first day of war.
The Grand Arcanum Academy was a battlefield.
Not of swords.
Not of magic.
But of status, talent, and ambition.
And the hall Cassandra had just entered was where the future rulers and warlords of the Empire would be shaped.
A circular hall, lined with towering bookshelves enchanted to hold centuries of knowledge. The desks—each marked with an emblem—were arranged in a tiered formation, facing the massive blackboard where their instructor would stand.
Only two hundred or more students sat here.
The best of the best.
Each chosen for their lineage, skill, or sheer talent.
And as Cassandra took her seat near the center, she scanned the faces of her rivals, allies, and future enemies.
At the front of the class, sitting gracefully, was Evelyn Aurelius, the Imperial Princess.
Her golden hair shimmered under the enchanted lights, and her emerald eyes were focused forward, seemingly indifferent to the whispers and glances directed her way.
As expected of royalty.
Cassandra's jaw tightened.
She and Evelyn had once been on friendly terms.
But ever since Leon's downfall—and Evelyn's lingering connection with Alistair Vaelthorne—there had been a growing distance between them.
And speaking of Alistair's family…
At the opposite side of the room, seated with perfect posture, was Elaine Vaelthorne, his twin sister.
Her silver-blonde hair framed her delicate face, her calm green eyes betraying no emotion.
She was quiet. Always composed.
But Cassandra knew better.
Elaine had been blessed by the Moon Huntress, their family's patron goddess. She was a deadly warrior, a skilled healer, and perhaps one of the most dangerous individuals in this room.
And yet—
She had barely reacted when Alistair was disowned.
She hadn't spoken against their father's decision.
She hadn't fought for him.
That was something Cassandra could never understand.
Even now, Elaine's expression remained neutral, as if she had no opinion on anything.
But Cassandra knew.
Deep down—somewhere within her—Elaine had to feel something.
The vampire twins, Lunara and Veylen Nightshade, lounged at the back of the room, their crimson eyes glinting with amusement.
They were born of the Nightshade bloodline, an aristocracy of vampires with a long, ruthless history.
Cassandra had never trusted them.
Nor had she ever trusted Rael Thunderfang, the Beastkin Prince, who sat with his arms crossed, looking bored but alert.
He would be dangerous in battle.
And then there was Sylara Ilthariel, the High Elven Princess, who radiated pride and confidence, her piercing gaze sweeping across the classroom as if she were assessing everyone's worth.
Cassandra clicked her tongue.
So many different factions.
So many conflicting ambitions.
And yet—
They all had one thing in common.
They were waiting for someone.
And when the doors finally opened again—
Cassandra knew exactly who had arrived.
****
A silence fell over the room.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Every student turned their gaze toward the doorway.
And standing there—
Dressed in the same black and silver uniform as the rest of them, yet completely apart from them—
Was Alistair Vaelthorne.
TO BE CONTINUE ....