It might seem strange for someone not of this world to be respected for something he never did. Glory, fame, and recognition… all things Valerian had gained within a single week of his family's return to power. The scene was like an adventurers' party, where the hero alone faced the monsters while the rest remained frozen in place like statues, yet in the end, the rewards were split equally as if everyone had contributed to the fight.
As for Valerian, he felt irritated.
"This is annoying."
All the time, people came to him, groveling at his feet as if they were a bunch of rookies begging for the mercy of a king.
"Valerian! Hey, how are you?"
"Oi, my friend, do you want a training match?"
Such phrases now sounded like disgusting lies in his ears.
"It's so damn annoying."
He grabbed his head as a headache slowly crept in, as if trying to shatter his thoughts.
But from a distance… there was an observer.
In fact, a shocked observer.
Evelyn stopped in place, her breath slowing, her mysterious, shimmering eyes widening in unprecedented shock. She had seen this scene before, just days ago, when she had caught a glimpse of the future. The young man standing there… he barely drew any attention, and he was supposed to have died earlier. She had seen his death clearly the blood, the fall, the inevitable end.
But now…
The future had changed.
She closed her eyes for a moment, refocused, and searched through the possibilities of time as she always did, but the old path had vanished as if it had never existed. In its place, something else appeared… a different vision. She saw that young man standing on a battlefield stronger, different, present in events where he previously had no place.
She muttered to herself in a barely audible voice
"This… isn't right. How did fate change? Who… or what interfered?"
She took a step forward, looking at Valerian, who was unaware that he had defied death, then whispered, half out of curiosity, half out of concern
"No one escapes their fate… unless it is rewritten."
She smiled faintly not out of happiness, but rather a mix of bewilderment and apprehension. She didn't despise change, but she knew that every change, no matter how small, brought with it unforeseen consequences.
Throughout her life, and through the eye she inherited from her mother… she had never been wrong.
Every person. Every being. Every thing was fixed, unchanging.
But Valerian seemed as if he was outside the equation of fate itself.
"Why are you looking at him so much? Could it be that you…?"
Her friend spoke with a sly smile, hinting at something obvious, but Evelyn ignored her.
"Do you actually like him?" her friend asked teasingly.
Evelyn gave her an annoyed look.
"That's not important right now… but, will you join me for the test?"
The first day of the test was approaching the test that would soon determine their ranks.
The test seemed simple on the surface
A team of four would be placed in a forest full of beasts and creatures, and the only goal… was to survive for a week.
Of course, precautions were taken to ensure no one would die, but that didn't make it any less dangerous.
Everyone had already formed their teams even Valerian.
His team consisted of:
Leonard, the school's genius.
Valerian, a swift fighter.
Alabaster, who joined unexpectedly, and no one knew why.
Rosalia, or as some called her, the "Ice Witch."
Two people Valerian never expected to be on his team.
Inside the Lockard mansion, finally… everyone had returned.
The heavy iron gate slowly creaked open, its sound echoing through the corridors leading to the inner courtyard. Edgar stepped forward with steady strides, his expression devoid of emotion, as if he were merely a shadow walking in human form. He wore his dark formal attire, his tie fastened tightly, but an aura of cold detachment surrounded him, as if he were walking through an emotional void.
At the entrance of the mansion, Carlos, the head butler, awaited him. He bowed the moment he saw him and spoke in a calm tone:
"Sir, congratulations on your outstanding success."
Edgar didn't respond, merely casting a fleeting glance at the gathered crowd before continuing on his way.
The servants watched him with a mix of respect and fear some smiled cautiously, but no one dared to say anything more.
At the bottom of the stairs leading into the mansion, Rein Lockard stood with his arms crossed, scrutinizing his father as if searching for any sign of joy or satisfaction in his rigid features.
"You've returned safely, and more importantly… victorious. Is that all you have? No words, no expression, not even a sigh of relief?"
Edgar paused for a moment, but his eyes remained fixed on the door ahead. Then, without looking at Rein, he said coolly:
"Victory is just a phase, nothing more."
Rein felt a cold grip in his chest. He hadn't expected that response, yet it wasn't unfamiliar from his father. There was something else lurking beneath, something colder than mere indifference.
A few steps away, Zeke observed the scene before muttering sarcastically:
"What a sight… a man wins, yet he doesn't know the taste of victory."
But he didn't say it out loud his head was still important to him.
Edgar moved inside, leaving everyone behind. He felt nothing no joy, no thrill, not even relief. He knew this was merely a new chapter in a long book of battles and that politics, like war, never gave one the luxury of celebration.
Inside the mansion, in a room isolated from the noise, Edgar Lockard sat under dim light, holding something small in his palm.
The faint glow emanating from it pulsed weakly, like fragile breaths, yet it carried something inexplicable… something Edgar hadn't felt in a long time.
He studied the tiny plant between his fingers, its delicate leaves trembling under his touch, as if it were a living being aware of his presence. It wasn't just a plant there was a pulse within it… a strange sense of warmth, as if it breathed, as if it whispered a secret he couldn't yet understand.
His gaze lifted slightly, and in the reflection of his dark eyes on the window glass, he saw a weary man….a man who had seen much and knew more than he should, yet still found himself hesitating before something so small.
"What the hell are you?" he muttered in a barely audible voice.
But he wasn't expecting an answer.
He tightened his fingers around it for a moment, feeling that pulse seep into his skin, creeping into him, as if something was trying to connect with him, to reveal its secret to him.
But no… it was still too early.
He took a slow breath, then opened his hand again, gazing at the fragile entity resting in his palm.
"Why… do I feel like you're more important than you seem?"
This plant was the first means of healing, but at a price he did not yet know.
When someone knocked on the door, he didn't lift his gaze. He simply closed his hand around the plant, hiding that faint light from the world.
Somewhere else, far from Edgar's awareness…
In a dark cellar, reeking of blood and sweat, dim flames flickered against the stone walls, casting eerie shadows on a man bound by chains to a metal chair.
His body was covered in bruises and wounds, and his exhausted eyes burned with a mixture of anger and fear.
Before him, Alexis sat calmly, dressed in an elegant black coat, one leg crossed over the other, a warm cup of tea in his hand, sipping it slowly while his assistant handled the "dirty work."
"You know? What annoys me the most about people like you is the empty stubbornness."
Alexis smiled serenely, as if speaking with an old friend, while screams rose in the background…
The screams that filled the space were like an irritating melody, yet Alexis didn't seem bothered. On the contrary, he took another sip of his tea, gazing at the bound man with a contemplative look, as if trying to decipher something in his pain-distorted features.
"Now, let's repeat the question again, but this time… think carefully before you answer."
Alexis leaned forward slightly, set his cup aside, then added in a calm yet drippingly menacing tone:
"Who sent you?"
The man, barely able to lift his head, spat blood onto the ground and muttered in a hoarse voice:
"Go… to hell…"
Alexis exhaled in boredom, then gestured with his hand without a word.
His assistant moved immediately, clamping his grip onto one of the man's fingers before a sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by a piercing scream of agony.
"Oh… was that painful? Sorry, but you forced my hand."
Alexis smiled coldly, then continued:
"Let's be clear… I don't have time to play with you. Give me the name, and maybe just maybe I'll let you leave in one piece."
A long silence followed, filled with the man's heavy breaths and the faint glow of the torches.
Finally, he mumbled in a barely audible voice:
"Screw you."
Alexis stood, picked up his tea, then turned away, casually waving a small gesture to his assistant.
"You know what to do."
Before he left, another scream echoed behind him, but it didn't matter to him.
"Oh, our world is full of secrets."
"So many secrets worth uncovering, yet the state of this world is pitiful."
His tone carried a slight sadness.
"To extend your hand to a stray dog homeless and starving only for it to bite you… But in the end, it will break and lick its master's hand."
Alexis had proven that he cared for nothing unless it served his interests.