That day, Hazandeen International High School was unlike any other.
The school gym felt far too small to contain the explosive energy within. Thousands of HIHS students and guests from Makazhar Elite School filled the stands. Trumpets, chants, mini flags, and posters bearing the participants' names flooded the hot, excitement-charged air.
The school's internal commentator narrated from the digital broadcast booth, his voice booming:
"Up next! The most anticipated match of the day! A clash between three of the top young heirs in Eastern Indorosia! David Virellano—Idham Tamarvich—and Rudi Norvalien!!"
Screams erupted—mainly from female students and even a few excitable teachers shouting:
"DAVID! DAVID VIRELLANO! YOU'RE SO COOL!!!"
David Virellano stepped into the arena.
Tall, athletic, with an aristocratic face and an air of utter confidence. The MES uniform fit his frame elegantly. He wasn't just handsome—he radiated dominance.
From the opposite side, two of Hazandeen's aces entered the court: Idham Tamarvich, former student council president and eldest son of the school's owning family, and
Rudi Norvalien, the rich boy whose mind seemed more preoccupied than focused.
One against two.
But everyone knew who the star truly was: David Virellano.
---
The match began.
Within seconds, it became David's show.
His movements were sharp, fluid, and stylish. Every shot he made drew cheers. Some teachers even stood up and cheered—clearly losing their neutrality.
Idham played with fiery spirit. He knew this wasn't just a game. It was personal. About pride.
But Rudi was... different.
He wandered, lazily passing the ball now and then, but never showing any true intent to compete.
His eyes followed the ball while a small smile curled on his lips—watching David shine.
David dominated effortlessly.
Point after point.
The crowd was entranced by his natural charisma on the court.
The match ended in a landslide victory for MES.
Idham, dripping with sweat and fury, glared at Rudi.
"You didn't even try, Norvalien…"
Rudi only shrugged.
"I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of David. He's playing on another level, isn't he?"
---
As the audience poured out of the bleachers, Idham stormed off the court.
His eyes burned with frustration.
In the exit hallway, he accidentally bumped into someone.
Al.
Thin, quiet, with his usual eye bags, slowly walking through the corridor.
Idham stared him down. And grinned—channeling his anger into someone random.
"Move aside, orphan boy."
Al tilted his head, glanced briefly, and simply stepped aside.
No response. No words.
Idham scoffed.
"Pathetic."
And walked away.
---
The martial arts competition was about to begin.
But the atmosphere had shifted.
The crowd's cheers had become a murmur. Everyone now waited for the next highlight.
Al's pace was slow as ever. Dull and unmotivated, he just wanted to find an empty spot and lie down.
But fate had other plans.
Coming from the opposite direction, David Virellano appeared—fresh from his match. A towel around his neck, hair wet with sweat, yet still radiating glory—showered in praise.
The moment David saw Al… his expression froze.
Their eyes met.
There was a flicker—something sharp, tense—in David's gaze.
But he quickly masked it, squinting slightly and offering a razor-thin smirk.
Then he walked past.
Well. Well. Well. I truly did not expect to run into this orphan boy here. Enjoy your day, young man. Soon enough, your fate will be sealed. Hehe. David's inner voice chuckled darkly.
Al, who saw him pass by, chose to ignore it altogether. There was no benefit in confronting someone like David right now. Yet, as David brushed past him, Al caught a peculiar sensation—an energy that felt out of place radiating faintly from David's body.
His crimson eyes glimmered as he activated his gaze, analyzing with precision. Unfortunately, he found nothing tangible. It was as if the boy had either been exposed to some foreign energy by accident, or had merely brushed against it unintentionally.
From a distance, Rina noticed the brief interaction and quickly hurried over, confusion written across her face.
What kind of pointless drama is this? she thought. But all she actually saw was David walking away calmly, as if nothing had happened.
Behind David, Rudi Norvalien followed. Unlike David, he stopped right in front of Al, his eyes sizing him up from head to toe.
"Ah, the scholarship kid. Still alive, are you?"
The insult rolled off his tongue casually, yet each word struck like a sharp needle.
Al remained silent. His eyes were empty, cold, indifferent—he looked at Rudi as though he were nothing more than the passing wind.
Two years now this boy has been pestering me. What does he even want from me? Could it be… is this another one of those ridiculous love-related grudges, dragging me into his mess? Al wondered, genuinely puzzled.
Seeing Al's silence, Rudi leaned in with another jab of provocation.
"Oh, right. I heard you're representing the school in the martial arts competition? Is that true? Oh my god! Do you actually think a weak little orphan like you can practice martial arts? Or maybe because you've thrown fists in some back-alley brawls, you've already begun to fancy yourself a martial artist? Dream on. Haha!"
Al exhaled slowly, his patience wearing thin. He then smiled faintly and replied, his voice calm yet laced with subtle provocation,
"I hope you still remember what happened to those thugs you sent after me."
The words froze Rudi in place. He, of course, knew the fate of those hired bullies. Yet the mystery still remained: how had they ended up in such a pitiful, battered state—so badly beaten that even their memories seemed fractured?
"Y-You… how could you possibly know that?" Rudi stammered, his eyes wide.
"I don't know. Let's just say I happened to stumble upon them, the five of them bloodied and broken in that narrow alley. But then again…" Al cut himself off deliberately, stepped in just slightly closer, and continued with a smirk, "…what if it was this so-called street fighter who left them that way?"
Rudi instinctively stepped back. He could hardly believe what Al was implying. But the bigger question gnawed at him—how did Al even know about it? Could it be that someone had swooped in to rescue him back when he was being bullied? Or… had it truly been Al all along?
From nearby, both Rina and David turned to stare at Al after hearing his words.
David was unsure of the details, but he recalled that not too long ago Al had been scolded by their parents, accused of being caught up in a violent fight. Could it really be true that Al defeated five street thugs on his own? But he doesn't even possess magical energy. How could a skinny boy like him possibly take on five men at once? It makes no sense.
Rina, however, was far more shaken. If the incident Al spoke of was indeed the same one she remembered, then the terrifying energy she had felt that day—it had belonged to Al? And coincidentally, she had sensed that very same familiar energy again just yesterday while walking him home. Could it all really be coincidence? Yet, even as she observed him closely, her conclusion remained unchanged: Al had no magical energy in his body. Of course, the truth was that her own perception was simply too weak to comprehend the depth of Al's power.
Al chuckled softly at their reactions.
Rudi, annoyed, clenched his teeth. But disbelief outweighed his irritation, allowing him to regain some measure of composure. He stepped forward once more.
But this time, Rina intervened. She rushed in, shoving Rudi back roughly.
"Move, Norvalien. Stop bothering Al."
Rudi sneered, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Oh, Rina. Come to save him again, have you?"
"Enough, Norvalien," Rina snapped.
Unwilling to escalate further—especially not with Rina—Rudi stepped back with a mocking grin.
"Let me give you a piece of advice. Don't get too close to him. You never know—poverty might be contagious." His tone was sharp, provocative.
Then, with a twisted smirk, he added playfully, "But you… you're becoming more attractive, Rina. I've always had a thing for tomboyish girls like you. Haha." With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered back toward David.
Rina's face hardened at his words. Her hand clenched into a fist, ready to strike. She lunged forward, arm swinging—
Blaaap! A hand shot out, halting her mid-swing.
David's hand.
His movement was swift, precise, and undeniably strong.
Rina froze, her eyes wide in shock.
David? That speed… it's far beyond what I last saw from him. This boy… he's grown.
David's expression remained blank, devoid of emotion.
"Don't be impulsive, Rina. You may come to regret it."
Al observed the exchange quietly. This was his first time witnessing David's abilities firsthand. For what it was worth, it was impressive—someone at the Adept Level managing to intercept the strike of someone already at the Practitioner Level.
Ultimately, in real combat, there was never a guarantee of victory simply because one's level was higher. Even if the odds were a billion to one, a mere human without magical energy, given the right use of strength and environment, could topple even a 'Grandmaster Level' expert.
Rina, meanwhile, clenched her fists and reluctantly took a step back. She knew this was not the time or place to escalate further.
David released her arm and turned to leave. But before fully walking away, he left behind a single cold, sharp line, spoken softly yet piercing like a blade:
"Be careful… when playing around with a servant's child."
At that very moment—
Al froze.
Those words… cut like knives. His body reacted instinctively, a surge of negativity flaring up once more.
Parents… who have nothing to do with any of this… Why must you always insult them?
The storm inside him roared violently. Yet thankfully, this time Al did not lose control. Not as he had before. He drew in a deep breath—steady, deliberate.
Then calmly, he turned.
Staring at David's back.
And asked, quietly:
"So… you do know who the servant's kid is, huh?"
Like an invisible arrow, the words struck.
David froze.
Eyes wide.
Body tense.
His left hand clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.
Rudi blinked in confusion.
But David didn't turn around.
He just took a breath…
And walked away.
Silent. Furious. And with no reply.
Inside his heart,
A voice from long ago echoed.
The voice of a woman who once held him as a child.
---
Al said nothing more.
He knew what he had just done.
He knew his words had cut.
But he also knew—this was a small return
…for a wound aimed at someone who had loved him like no one else.
Someone who—sadly—had always loved David
…more than him.