Chapter 3 – Let the Game Begin

It had been three days since Lucas Ashington's body was found.

And just like that, the whispers were already starting to fade.

Obsidian Hill Academy had a short memory when it wanted to. Classes resumed, routines returned, and while the investigation remained ongoing, the tension in the air had started to thin.

To Riven, it was disappointing.

*All that noise and panic, and for what?* he thought, dragging his feet lazily through the courtyard. *One noble brat dies and the whole school throws a fit. Three days later? Business as usual.*

He yawned. "Boring."

The announcement that combat sparring would resume today sparked some excitement among the students. Not for Riven. But maybe, just maybe… it was time to make things interesting again.

He glanced toward Lilly across the courtyard. She was walking alone, head down, her expression unreadable.

*I should've started toying with her earlier,* he thought. *But the investigation was still too hot. Couldn't risk it.*

Now though? Things were cooling off. It was time.

Aura Sparring was held in a massive indoor hall at the centre of the academy campus. Hexagonal tiles lined the reinforced floor, and light poured in from dome-shaped skylights. Runes shimmered around the edge of the room, pulsing faintly to stabilise any aura backlash.

Today was different. Instead of grouping students by rank as usual, the instructor was doing random pairings.

Riven raised an eyebrow.

Random? That was rare.

Professor Dae, the combat instructor, stood at the front of the hall, clipboard in hand.

"First match: Sarah Delane versus Arnold Kess."

The two students stepped forward. Sarah's long black hair swayed behind her, her diamond-blue eyes sharp and confident. She came from a hunter family—her stance alone proved it. Years of private training clearly paid off.

Arnold, on the other hand, looked like he had just woken up. Blond, messy hair. Brown eyes half-lidded. His aura flared lazily, like he couldn't be bothered to try.

Still, they were both A-ranks.

The duel began. A flash of movement. Aura blades clashing. Sarah moved cleaner, tighter—less power, more technique. Arnold had the edge in raw strength, but Sarah dismantled him bit by bit, landing small cuts and cornering him with graceful footwork.

After a few exchanges, Professor Dae called the match. "Winner: Sarah."

Arnold scratched the back of his head and muttered something about skipping breakfast.

The next few matches were dull. B-ranks fumbling through the motions. C-ranks doing their best not to embarrass themselves.

Riven watched with half-lidded eyes, pretending to pay attention.

His mind was drifting elsewhere.

*Lilly.*

*Tomorrow's going to be fun.*

"Next match: Riven Nox versus Brayce Hollow."

He blinked.

*Wait. What?*

Brayce was already walking forward, sword in hand. He looked thirty, if not forty. Broad shoulders. Calm steps. His blond hair was slicked back, his brown eyes unreadable.

Technically, Brayce was sixteen—just like everyone in Class 3-B—but no one believed it.

Riven stood and rolled his neck.

*Guess I'll have to lose again.*

He stepped onto the sparring floor and drew his practice blade. He hated holding back, but keeping his cover mattered more than winning.

The match began.

Brayce didn't charge recklessly. He was smart. Measured.

Their swords clashed. Riven blocked, danced back, kept his aura low. Just enough to make it look like he was trying.

Brayce pushed forward with clean swings. Riven parried. Moved with just enough hesitation to make it look like he was struggling.

A swing came down toward his shoulder.

Riven twisted at the last second, deflecting it with a sharp clang.

*That should do it.*

Brayce stepped back, breathing steady. "You've got good form."

"Not good enough," Riven replied with a sheepish grin.

Professor Dae raised his hand. "Match over. Brayce wins."

Riven blinked.

*Huh. Didn't even have to fake getting hit.*

He gave a casual shrug and wandered back to the sidelines.

"Next match: Lilly Vael versus Kenton Ryse."

Riven looked up.

*Oh?*

Lilly stepped forward, clutching a sleek wooden bow. She looked out of place at first—small, quiet, glasses slightly askew—but as she drew her aura into focus, Riven's smile faded just slightly.

*B-rank,* he thought, sensing the flow. *But…*

Her opponent, Kenton, was taller and broader, carrying a blunt training axe. He sneered slightly, clearly expecting an easy win.

The match started.

Lilly moved.

Her footwork was precise. She dodged the first lunge with minimal effort, drawing an arrow mid-spin and letting it loose. The aura-wrapped arrow struck Kenton square in the chest plate, pushing him back.

Riven narrowed his eyes.

The next few seconds were a blur. Every arrow she fired hit its mark. She used the space like she owned it, controlling distance, pacing, pressure. Her aura didn't flare wildly—it flowed.

*She's good,* Riven thought. *Too good.*

Kenton charged one last time. Lilly leapt back, twisted, and released a final shot to the knee.

He crumpled.

"Match over," Professor Dae said, slightly surprised himself. "Lilly wins."

A murmur ran through the class.

Riven leaned back, smirking.

*Maybe she's more than just a nerd with weird theories.*

*This is going to be even more fun.*

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully. But Riven was already focused on the next move.

As the last bell rang, he slipped away from the crowd and followed Lilly.

At a distance.

She didn't notice.

She took a quiet route through the lower city district, past an old flower shop, down a narrow alley lined with vending machines, and finally through a quiet residential block.

Riven didn't speak. He just memorised her path.

*So that's how she gets home.*

He turned away before she reached her door. His bloodlust was beginning to itch at the back of his throat—stage one.

His stomach grumbled lightly.

*Hmph. A meal's a meal.*

As he rounded a corner, a black cat darted across his path. It looked up at him and let out a soft, croaky meow.

Riven crouched.

"I'd eat you, but you're probably full of fleas."

The cat hissed and vanished under a fence.

He arrived at his apartment not long after. The building groaned when he opened the door. He stepped inside, tossed his bag on the couch, and pulled off his uniform.

Then, while looking through a half-broken wardrobe, he found something.

A balaclava.

Bright pink.

He stared at it.

It was absurd.

And perfect.

"Hah..." he laughed softly. "Who the hell lived here before me?"

He slipped it on.

It stretched awkwardly over his face, the eye holes a bit uneven.

He turned to the cracked mirror, still wearing his school trousers, shirtless, and now with a ridiculous pink mask on.

He grinned.

*Tomorrow,* he thought, pulling it off and folding it carefully, *we'll show little Miss Vampire-Theory that fiction bites back.*

He placed the mask beside his bed like it was a prized weapon.

Then he collapsed onto the mattress, eyes wide open, mind racing.

*Let the next round begin.*