Luka turned slowly, his blue eyes scanning the crowd to find the voice that had dared to interrupt his grand entrance. His gaze landed on a tall figure, roughly his own height, with messy black hair and amber eyes that burned with a defiance he hadn't encountered in years.
"Wenta," Luka said, his voice smooth and mocking.
"Is this your boyfriend? I didn't know you had a taste for the lower ranks."
"What?! He's not my boyfriend, you idiot!" Wenta snapped, her face flushing as she stepped back, blowing a bubble with her sweet that popped with an annoyed snap.
Luka ignored her, his focus narrowing on the newcomer. He wore a grin that didn't reach his eyes—a expression of pure, predatory amusement.
"I am Luka Cinandra. And you are?"
"I'm Oliver Veyron," I replied, my voice steady despite the adrenaline spiking through my system.
"And I want to know what business you have with Suki."
The moment the name Oliver left my lips, Luka's grin faltered. A flash of recognition crossed his face, followed by a sudden, sharp tension that rippled through his posture. He immediately recognized me.
"So... you're Oliver, huh?" Luka murmured. He began to walk toward me, his steps light but echoing with an unnatural weight. "It seems I'm the one who should be asking that. What business does a tier-one have with a woman of Suki's lineage?"
Suddenly, his divine aura flared. It wasn't like Sherach's aura or Ryan's cold vacuum this was the weight of a dying star. The air itself fractured, the sound of glass breaking echoing in the plaza. The ground beneath my boots spider-webbed, and a crushing pressure slammed into my shoulders. My knees buckled, threatening to hit the pavement, but I gritted my teeth, forcing my Nebula heart to rotate at maximum velocity to counteract the gravitational load.
"Is this guy a teir-nine ?" I thought, my vision blurring. No... this is something else entirely.
[Warning: Host is experiencing Divine Suppression. Target is confirmed: demi-god level bloodline.]
"Damn it!" I cursed inwardly, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fists to keep from collapsing.
"You're a strong one, kid," Luka noted, his eyes showing a sliver of genuine surprise. "Even holding back, that pressure should have made you pass out instantly. Yet, here you are, still standing. I'm curious... what happens if I release just a bit more?"
He didn't wait for an answer. The pressure quintupled. It felt as if five massive, jagged mountains had been dropped onto my soul. My bones groaned under the strain, and my lungs refused to expand. The sheer intensity was too much. My legs gave out, and I hit the ground on one knee, crouching as I tried to hold my head up. Sweat poured off my face, splashing onto the cracked concrete.
Luka walked toward my trembling figure, his aura retracting as quickly as it had appeared. The sudden relief was almost as painful as the pressure itself.
"You're an interesting specimen," he said, looking down at me like a scientist examining a bug. "Impressive feat, holding your ground against the slight gravity of a superior being. How about a little reward for your effort?"
He raised his hand, his fingers tensed as if he were about to flick me in the forehead—a gesture of ultimate humiliation. But his hand froze mid-air. He glanced over his shoulder at the pink-haired girl who had stepped between us.
"That's enough, Luka," Wenta said, her voice like ice. Her oversized jacket fluttered in the wind, and her eyes were cold. "You came here to see Suki, not to spend your time intimidating my juniors. You know my boyfriend wouldn't like you harming a student on his watch."
Luka scoffed, pulling his hand back and tucking it into his pocket. "Still as troublesome as ever, Wenta. You always did have a soft spot for the weak."
"Let him be," she commanded. "I'll lead you to Suki's location now."
Luka stared at her for a moment, then smiled. He leaned down, whispering directly into my ear so only I could hear. "A little advice, Mr. Veyron. Stay away from her. Next time, I won't just make you kneel. I will crush you until there is nothing left but a memory."
He stood up, his expression reverting to its arrogant, golden perfection. "See you during the entrance exams."
Wenta shot me a look of pity—a brief, sympathetic glance—before turning and leading the way for Luka. I watched them walk away, my body finally giving in to the internal damage. I coughed, and a spray of blood hit the ground. My nose was bleeding freely. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the crimson from my face, my amber eyes fixed on Luka's retreating back.
"Hey, is that guy crazy? Challenging a Cinandra?"
"Yeah, he's got guts, I'll give him that."
"Did you see? He was powerless. The gap between a tier-one and a demi-god is a goddamn ocean."
"Serves him right for acting so high and mighty."
The whispers of the other students stung, but I ignored them. I didn't care about their judgment. I only cared about the gap I had just felt. I needed more power. I needed to refine my core until it could withstand the weight of the heavens.
Deep in the crowd, Caleb and Marcus watched with dark smirks. "Oliver Veyron... I'm a little disappointed my brother didn't finish you on the spot. But this is only the beginning of your nightmare."
----
On the upper floor, in a room designed for high-tier privacy, Suki Von Valerius sat in a throne of her own making. The room was a crystalline nightmare, the walls were coated in thick sheets of frost, and jagged ice spears hung from the ceiling like the teeth of a dragon.
Suki bit her nail, her eyes darting toward the door. She was a storm of anxiety. I can't believe her father sent that nuisance as an inspector, she thought bitterly. He's trying to trap me.
"My lady," a voice whispered in her mind. It was one of her female bodyguards, communicating via telepathy. "Lady Wenta has informed us that Lord Luka is approaching."
Suki didn't respond. She just intensified the cold. Outside the door, her two guards immediately dropped to their knees, fists clenched to the floor and heads low as the heavy, golden presence of Luka arrived.
"Good day to you, Lord Luka and Lady Wenta," they greeted in unison.
Luka nodded dismissively. "I think my role as escort is done here?" She asked, looking at Luka.
"Of course. Good riddance, Luka," Wenta replied with a wave as she walked away, her role as the buffer between them finished.
Luka turned to the door. He didn't knock. He pushed it open, and the moment the seal broke, a massive, pointed ice spear shot toward his face at subsonic speeds. Luka didn't even flinch. A golden shimmer appeared around his head, and the ice shattered into sparkling dust before it could touch his skin.
"Whoa... that was a close one, dear," he said, stepping into the room. He looked around, genuinely impressed by the frozen decor. "Magnificent. I've always loved your sense of style, Suki."
Suki didn't look at him. She remained seated, her gaze fixed on the frost-covered window.
He took a step closer, but the floor groaned as a wall of ice surged up to block his path. "Don't you dare come any closer," she said, her voice a frozen blade.
"Well, aren't I receiving the cold treatment?" Luka asked with a grin. "Didn't you miss me at all?"
Silence was his only answer.
Luka laughed and, in a flash of golden light, teleported. He reappeared directly opposite her. He reached for a nearby chair, but Suki's mana flared, encasing the seat in a block of jagged ice. Luka didn't care. He sat down anyway, his own divine magic acting as a cushion, preventing the frozen chair from shattering under his weight.
"I've missed you since we were children," he said, leaning forward. "You can't imagine how delighted I am to see you again. But is this really how we greet each other? How about we start with a kiss?"
He stretched out his hand to cup her chin, his fingers glowing with a soft, inviting light. Suki turned her head, her eyes meeting his with an emotionless, dead gaze. As his hand approached, her mind drifted back—back to the first time they had met, and the shadow that Luka had cast over her life since the very beginning.