The Rumors

I woke up early. I had to. Today was the day the rumors would take on a life of their own, and for the first time in a long while, I actually felt excited about something.

The room was still dark, the faint glow of dawn seeping through the high windows. Most students were still asleep, their slow, steady breathing filling the otherwise silent dormitory. I moved quietly, slipping out of bed and freshening up as quickly as possible. The academy had strict schedules, but I wanted to eat before the hall got too crowded. Today, I needed a clear mind.

By the time I made my way downstairs, only a handful of students were present for breakfast. The quiet was a rare luxury, one I fully intended to enjoy. I ate at my own pace, for once undisturbed by whispers, laughter, or sneering faces.

But all that would change soon.

Once I finished, I made my way to Mana Class. I didn't rush. There was no need. Instead, I walked with a steady pace, keeping my breathing even. My mind was already two steps ahead. The real show would start the moment the other students arrived.

I took my usual spot at the back of the room, slumping slightly in my chair to make myself as unnoticeable as possible. The classroom was cold, the stone walls doing little to keep warmth in, but I hardly noticed.

And then, right on cue, students started filtering in.

At first, their whispers were soft, barely audible. But then, as more of them entered, the murmurs grew louder.

I leaned back, eyes half-lidded, listening.

"Did you know that Zaden and Dante were never put up against each other?"

Shenchen's voice carried across the room, clear and confident. A few students turned to listen, pausing in their conversations.

"And I bet Zaden would win against Dante in every way."

My lips twitched. Hook, line, and sinker.

The agreement was almost immediate. Others nodded, murmuring in agreement, and the ripple effect began. That was the power of suggestion. Just a few words, a little doubt, and suddenly, people started questioning things they had never considered before.

"But Dante is really stronger than Zaden in every way." Another student countered, his voice indignant. "He comes from a wealthy background, he knows how to fight, how to use spells, and he's even intelligent. Handsome, too. He has everything we don't."

I scoffed under my breath. Of course, someone would say that. That was the image I had built of him—perfect, untouchable. But the thing about perfection was that people wanted to believe in it. They needed to.

Which meant it would only take a small crack to make it all fall apart.

I flexed my fingers beneath the desk, exhaling slowly.

It was time.

I cast the only spell I was halfway decent at—Phantom Murmur.

A simple incantation, but powerful in its own right. The words wouldn't have a clear source. It would sound as if they came from everywhere and nowhere at once, slipping into the ears of those who were already primed to believe them.

"And yet… we've never seen his family. Never even heard where he truly comes from. Does he really come from rich family?"

The reaction was instant.

Heads snapped up. Eyes widened. The air in the classroom shifted.

I didn't move. I kept my breathing even, my expression neutral.

Because now?

Now the storm had begun.

The classroom door swung open with a faint creak, but the effect was immediate.

Dante, Zaden, Ashton, and Nantos strode inside, their presence shifting the energy of the entire room in an instant. They always commanded attention, the natural gravity of their arrogance and reputation drawing eyes to them wherever they went. But today, those gazes were different.

Today, the stares were sharp, calculating, filled with something that had never been directed at Dante before.

Doubt.

Dante noticed it immediately. He always did. His steps slowed for just a fraction of a second, a flicker of awareness crossing his face before he masked it with his usual air of indifference. But it was there. That split-second hesitation.

Zaden, walking beside him, seemed less affected, but his usual smirk faltered. Ashton and Nantos exchanged glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere as well.

They took their usual seats, but the weight of the silence pressed down on the room. The usual scattered chatter had vanished. There was no laughter, no murmured conversations. Just quiet, thick and tense.

Dante's sharp eyes flickered around the classroom, scanning the faces watching him. The suspicion in their expressions was obvious.

His grip on his bag tightened.

Then, he exhaled through his nose and huffed, breaking the silence with a clipped tone.

"What is all this about? Go and do your work."

His voice was steady, his authority clear.

But no one moved.

A few students exchanged glances, some shifting in their seats but making no effort to obey. The tension only thickened, settling like a storm cloud hanging overhead.

Dante's expression darkened slightly as he pulled his book from his bag, trying to ignore the stares.

And then—

"Or what?"

The words cut through the silence like a blade.

Dante stilled.

His head turned, slow and deliberate, his piercing gaze locking onto the one who had dared to challenge him.

Shenchen.

The boy leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a small smirk playing at his lips. There was no fear in his eyes—just curiosity and something close to amusement.

A ripple went through the class. A challenge had been thrown.

Dante's so-called friends stiffened in their seats. Zaden's smirk returned, but there was an edge to it now, an interest in how this would unfold. Ashton's brows furrowed, and Nantos tensed, waiting.

"Why do we have to listen to you?" Shenchen added, tilting his head slightly. "Just because you say so?"

A murmur spread across the room, hushed but undeniable.

For the first time, Dante Ashbourne—the one who had always stood above everyone else—was being questioned.

The classroom was thick with anticipation, like the air before a thunderstorm. Eyes darted between Dante and Shenchen, waiting, holding their breath.

And then—

Dante stood up.

The sharp screech of his chair scraping against the floor cut through the silence. It tipped backward, landing with a dull thud as he took slow, deliberate steps toward Shenchen.

His gaze was lethal, his presence suffocating.

"What did you say?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of a command—a demand for an immediate answer.

The class tensed. No one dared to move.

But Shenchen?

He just leaned back slightly, unfazed. A lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as if Dante's fury was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.

"Didn't hear me the first time?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Or are you too slow to understand things?"

A collective inhale spread through the room.

Dante's jaw clenched. His fingers curled into a fist at his side.

Shenchen wasn't just challenging him. He was humiliating him.

And then—

Shenchen stood up.

The scraping of his chair against the floor sounded sharper in the silence. He straightened, his smirk widening just slightly, eyes locked onto Dante's burning gaze.

"Fine." he said smoothly, tilting his head. "I'll say something that you'll understand immediately."

The room felt like a battlefield.

Dante's fury simmered beneath the surface, a storm waiting to break.

And Shenchen?

He was ready to light the match.

The room held its breath.

Dante's fists clenched tighter, the veins in his arms subtly surfacing as his fury brewed. His friends—Zaden, Ashton, and Nantos—exchanged glances but said nothing. They knew better than to interfere when Dante was like this.

Shenchen, on the other hand, took his time. He dusted off his uniform like Dante's anger was nothing more than an inconvenience, then exhaled dramatically.

"Tell me, Dante." he started, voice carrying through the room with an eerie confidence. "Where exactly do you come from?"

The words hung in the air.

Dante's glare sharpened. His shoulders stiffened. But he didn't answer.

The silence was deafening.

The tension in the room thickened as students exchanged looks. Some curious. Some intrigued. Some downright enjoying the spectacle unfolding before them.

Shenchen took a step forward, close enough that only a few inches separated them. "Strange, isn't it?" he mused, tapping his chin. "Someone as… powerful as you. As rich. As well-connected. And yet—" He dragged out the pause for effect, savoring it. "No one has ever seen your family."

A murmur spread through the class. It had begun. The seed of doubt had been planted, and now it was growing.

Dante's eyes darkened. "Shut your mouth."

Shenchen smirked, but his next words hit like a blade.

"Or what?" he challenged. "You'll beat me up? That's all you're good at, right?"

Dante's breath was slow, controlled—but his body was tense, his fury barely restrained.

The class wasn't watching a simple argument anymore.

They were watching a king being forced off his throne.