Caelan Voss

Zaden finally stood up, his expression unreadable. "That's enough."

Shenchen chuckled. "Enough? Oh, I don't think so." He glanced around the room.

"Everyone here follows Dante because they think he's untouchable. The strongest. The smartest. The wealthiest." His gaze snapped back to Dante, eyes gleaming with mischief. "But what if he's just a fraud?"

That was it.

The moment Dante lunged, Shenchen was already moving.

A flicker of mana coursed through his legs, and in an instant, he blurred out of reach—his Acceleration Spell kicking in at the perfect moment. Dante's punch struck nothing but air, the force of it so strong that it sent a gust through the classroom.

Gasps erupted from the watching students.

Shenchen appeared a few steps away, standing tall with an infuriating smirk. "Tsk. Too slow, Dante. I thought you were supposed to be untouchable?"

Dante's jaw clenched, but he didn't waste time on words. His body twisted as he swung again, this time lacing his attack with mana to increase his speed. But Shenchen was fast—too fast.

With a sharp pivot, Shenchen ducked under Dante's fist and reappeared at his side, landing a sharp, open-palmed strike against Dante's ribs before darting away.

The hit wasn't strong, but it was humiliating. He had landed the first blow.

Dante's head snapped toward him, his darkened gaze promising murder. "You little—"

He didn't finish. Instead, he exhaled sharply, recalibrating. His stance shifted—feet grounded, center balanced, body poised like a predator about to pounce. Serious now.

Shenchen's smirk faltered just slightly. He had gotten under Dante's skin, but he knew better than to underestimate him.

Then Dante moved.

Faster than before.

This time, he didn't just swing wildly. He anticipated Shenchen's dodge and adjusted, twisting mid-motion to slam a knee into Shenchen's stomach the moment he tried to sidestep.

The impact was brutal.

Shenchen's breath whooshed out of him as he staggered back, his spell momentarily flickering from the force of the blow.

Dante didn't let up. He pressed forward, his fists flying—left, right, left—each one heavier than the last. Shenchen barely managed to dodge the first two, but the third grazed his jaw, snapping his head to the side.

The classroom erupted into whispers. Dante was overpowering him.

But Shenchen grinned, wiping the blood from his lip. "There you are." he muttered. "Was starting to think you lost your bite."

Dante didn't respond—he just attacked again.

And this time, Shenchen fought back.

He spun low, sweeping at Dante's legs, but Dante jumped just in time. In midair, he twisted and brought his elbow crashing down—a lethal counter.

Shenchen barely rolled away before impact, landing in a crouch a few feet away. He panted, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Not bad."

Dante cracked his knuckles, his own breathing controlled. "I'm done playing."

A low hum of mana thickened in the air.

Shenchen's expression finally shifted to something more serious.

Dante wasn't just fighting anymore.

He was about to end this.

But before Dante could strike again, Zaden moved.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Dante's wrist, stopping him mid-attack. His grip was firm but not forceful—a silent warning.

Dante snapped his head toward him, eyes burning with frustration. "Let go before I make you."

Zaden didn't flinch. Instead, he scoffed, his voice calm yet laced with amusement. "I'm doing this for your own good."

Dante's glare darkened. His patience had already worn thin, and being restrained—held back in front of everyone—only made it worse. Without hesitation, he shoved Zaden off. Hard.

The room went still.

Students exchanged glances, their whispers rising like a low hum. This was new.

Shenchen, ever the instigator, chuckled as he adjusted his collar. "Guess we're finally getting some action between you two. And I bet, Zaden, you'll win. Don't worry."

Dante clenched his jaw so tightly it ached. His fists trembled at his sides as he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from lunging again. But when his eyes flickered toward Zaden, he saw it—

A smirk.

Faint, subtle, but there.

Mocking.

Dante's rage sharpened. His voice was low, dangerous. "So… was it fun?"

Zaden raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading slightly. "What do you mean?"

Dante exhaled through his nose, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Don't act like you don't know, Zaden." His voice was laced with venom now, his words sharp and precise. "It was you who spread those rumors. That's why your lackey here is spewing this bullshit, and yet, instead of stopping him, you stop me?"

Zaden's brows furrowed slightly as if genuinely confused—but Dante wasn't buying it.

The classroom was utterly silent now. No one dared to move.

Because for the first time in Astarst Academy, the two strongest figures were standing against each other.

And neither looked ready to back down.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Dante's fists were clenched, his eyes burning with fury as he glared at Zaden. Zaden, for once, didn't retaliate—he just smirked, his confidence unwavering. Shenchen stood to the side, a victorious glint in his eyes, waiting for the inevitable explosion. The entire class was locked in silence, watching, anticipating—until it happened.

A force slammed into the room.

Not physically. Not visibly. But suddenly, everyone felt it.

A wave of power—dense, suffocating, undeniable—crashed into them like an invisible tide, weighing down on their chests, freezing them in place. Elias felt his breath hitch, his fingers trembling as the raw energy filled the space, pressing into every corner of the room. It was suffocating.

The door creaked open.

A man stepped in, his presence alone making the air feel heavier. He wasn't large or intimidating in appearance—average height, lean, dressed in a simple dark robe that barely hinted at his status. But his eyes. Cold. Sharp. Piercing through every student like they were nothing more than insects beneath his feet.

"Children." His voice was smooth, bored even, yet carried an undercurrent of something Elias couldn't quite place. "I expected more from Astarst Academy."

No one spoke. No one moved. Even Dante, who seconds ago was ready to rip Zaden apart, stood rooted to his spot, the anger on his face replaced by something more restrained.

The man took a slow step forward. Then another. Each movement seemed to pulse with an unseen force, like the very air bent to his will.

"And this… is what passes for the 'elites' of the academy?" A scoff left his lips as his gaze swept across the room. "How utterly… disappointing."

Elias exhaled slowly, watching carefully. This man was dangerous.

Without warning, the man lifted his hand. A flick of his fingers—

Dante and Zaden collapsed.

No impact. No visible force. But they dropped to their knees as if the weight of the world had just crushed them.

Dante gritted his teeth, veins visible along his arms as he tried to push himself up. Zaden had both hands on the ground, panting heavily. The rest of the students instinctively stepped back, eyes wide with shock.

The man sighed. "Pathetic."

He turned his gaze toward Shenchen, who had been the loudest before. Shenchen stiffened—the smugness gone in an instant.

The man tilted his head. "You. Do you believe in what you just said? That Zaden would win?"

Shenchen opened his mouth, but no words came out.

The man smiled—sharp and amused. "I see. So your confidence only extends when the other party is powerless to stop you." His gaze flicked back to Zaden and Dante. "How fascinating."

Elias watched, something stirring in his chest.

This man… was different.

The instructor turned his head, his gaze settling on Elias for the briefest of moments. And in that second, Elias felt something strange—like he was being evaluated, but not dismissed.

The man turned away before Elias could even process it.

"I am Professor Caelan Voss." the man finally introduced himself. "Your new Mana Instructor." He paused, his smirk deepening.

"And from today onward, you will learn what true power is."