As they turned onto a quieter street near the central plaza, a group of well-dressed teenagers lounged under a marble fountain. They laughed loudly and tossed coins into the air as a servant danced nervously before them.
One of them, a boy with silver hair and emerald eyes, spotted Velina. "Velina! You still hang around with strays now? Is this one still of your pet project?"
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
The noble boy stepped forward. He wore a silver-trimmed jacket, a family crest embroidered over his chest. "Did he save a squirrel and win your heart?"
"Enough, Daren," Velina said, stepping in between. "Walk away."
"Tch. Still playing the saint. You better teach your dog not to growl at nobles. The Academy has its rules. Strays like him don't belong."
Ethan's grip on the sword tightened.
[WRATH: +3]
▪ Source: Emotional surge (Insult, degradation)
[WRATH: 35/35]
He exhaled slowly.
Velina touched his arm. "Don't. He's looking for a reason."
At that moment, two knights in black armor walked into view, halberds in hand. The noble boys turned their backs immediately, their arrogance vanishing.
"Let's go," Velina said, pulling Ethan away.
---
Later that night, Ethan sat in the garden behind the merchant's house, staring at the stars. The wind was calm, the moonlight silvering the grass.
Velina walked out, two cups in hand. She offered one to him.
"You handled yourself well today," she said.
"Barely," he muttered. "Those nobles... I wanted to crush him."
"And yet you didn't. That shows strength. Not every battle is fought with a blade."
He sipped from the cup. It was mint tea, calming.
"Tomorrow," she continued, "we train again. I want to see how you fight when you're not angry."
Ethan smirked faintly. "Good luck with that."
They both chuckled. Then, silence.
For the first time in days, Ethan felt something unfamiliar. Not peace. Not safety. But... clarity. Like he was beginning to see the path forward, even if the road was still soaked in shadows.
He looked to Velina. "Thank you."
She blinked. "For what?"
"For treating me like... I matter."
She nodded. "You do. You saved my father. And soon, you'll show all of them that your bloodline doesn't define your worth. Your blade does."
Ethan gazed at the sky. The stars blinked back.
"Then I'll sharpen it until the world takes notice."
And with that, the night deepened, and the Leviathan-Hybrid rested in the cradle of a kingdom not yet ready for what he was becoming. At least not now.
-----------
The dawn broke with a hush over the kingdom of Vaelond. Sunlight filtered through the high windows of the merchant's grand villa, casting long golden rays onto polished stone floors. Birds chirped lazily from the iron-wrought balconies. Ethan stood in the open courtyard, shirtless, steam rising from his skin as he practiced his strikes, blade slashing through the morning air with increasing precision.
Velina watched from the doorway, arms crossed, her own wooden practice sword tapping against her boot.
"What are those scars on his back... Was he beaten up... Is it a Tartarus beast...this boy has surely gone through alot" Velina Thought.
"At his age, his muscles are already well drawn, this guy will be a storm at the Academy"
"You're getting sharper," she said, stepping into the courtyard. "But you still tighten your shoulders when you swing. It'll cost you balance."
Ethan nodded, gritting his teeth. "I can't afford to be sloppy. Not with the assessment that close."
Velina offered a smile. "Then let's keep refining it. I'll go easy on you this time."
He raised an eyebrow. "You never do."
"Exactly." She smirked and stepped into the ring.
They began sparring, wooden blades clacking with speed and intensity. Each swing echoed through the villa's stone halls. Velina moved like water, graceful, reactive, sharp in motion. Ethan, more brute and force, pushed forward with raw will. But now, his instincts were cleaner. His counters quicker. His grip firmer.
System prompts flared in his mind occasionally:
[SWORDMANSHIP EXPERIENCE: +3%]
[+3EXP EARNED]
[CURRENT EXP: 303/400]
After an intense thirty-minute session, Velina backed off, wiping sweat from her brow. "You're pushing too hard again. Don't chase power. Let it find you."
Ethan sheathed the wooden sword and slumped onto a bench. "I don't have the luxury of patience."
She didn't push the topic further. Instead, she sat beside him. "You've got good instincts. But instincts don't win when faced with bloodlines, magical gear, and years of elite training."
"Then I'll have to crush all that with grit," Ethan muttered.
A servant approached with a tray of cold drinks. Velina took one and passed it to Ethan. He muttered thanks and took a long gulp.
Suddenly, the peace shattered.
A mocking voice echoed across the courtyard.
"Well, well. What a cute scene. The street rat and the merchant's princess. How romantic."
Ethan's head snapped toward the gate. Three noble boys in sleek training uniforms leaned against the entrance. Their swords gleamed from fresh polish, and their expressions screamed entitlement.
Velina groaned. "Not now, Lorian."
Lorian, the tallest, stepped forward. His golden hair caught the light and his narrow eyes scanned Ethan with distaste. "You're the one who saved her father, aren't you? Must think you're some kind of hero."
Ethan didn't answer.
Lorian's two companions snickered. One of them, stocky, with a face like a squashed pear, spoke up.
"Heard you're entering the Academy trials. Big mistake. Trash like you doesn't survive long among the gifted."
Velina stood between them. "Leave him alone. He's twice the fighter any of you are."
Lorian scoffed. "Then let's prove it."
Before anyone could react, he tossed a wooden sword toward Ethan. "One round. You versus me. Just sparring. Unless you're scared."
Ethan caught the sword mid-air. He stepped forward slowly. "You want a fight? Fine. But if I win, you and your leeches stay away until the Academy gates."
Lorian smirked. "Deal."
They cleared the courtyard as Velina moved the benches and warned the guards not to interfere.
[MINI-QUEST INITIATED: STAND YOUR GROUND]
Objective: Defeat Noble Trainee Lorian in a spar.
Reward: +50 EXP, Increased Respect from Velina.
They squared off. Ethan felt his Wrath stir, not enough to trigger abilities, but enough to sharpen his focus.
Lorian came in quick, faster than expected. The boy had speed and technique, no doubt trained by elite swordsmen. But his movements were polished, predictable. Ethan deflected the first few blows, absorbing each strike with quiet fury.
Wood clashed against wood.
Ethan waited for the overreach. It came.
Lorian lunged in for a wide sweep. Ethan ducked, slid forward and cracked the wooden blade into his ribs.
THWACK!
Lorian stumbled. Ethan didn't follow up. He waited. Calculated. Lorian growled, fury clouding his grace. He rushed again, blind with frustration and rage.
Ethan sidestepped and struck his knee, followed by a clean jab to the gut. The noble dropped.
The system chimed:
[VICTORY ACHIEVED: +50 EXP]
[INCREASED RESPECT FROM VELINA]
[CURRENT EXP: 353/400]