Oh, He is new.
Today was the day. The chosen day.
The day where the chosen few stepped into the esteemed academy.
Royal Imperium Prestigia High opened its gilded gates only once a year, welcoming a select handful of students—most of them nobles, a few scholarship pawns, and every opportunistic girl hoping to catch the eye of a king. The Pentarch Kings, to be exact.
Five untouchable monarchs-in-training who ruled the academy with fists of gold and tempers of wildfire.
The armored guard thrust out a gauntleted hand. "Admission papers."
Blazar handed over her forged letter without blinking. The guard's metal-clad fingers deliberately creased the gilded edges as he examined it, the parchment crackling under his rough handling.
"Spade?" His visor tilted just enough to reveal a scarred lip twisting in contempt. "That bankrupt house still breeds?"
Her knuckles whitened around her bag strap, leather groaning under her grip. "Apparently well enough to earn admission."
The guard snorted through his nasal guard but stepped aside. "Try to survive your first day, scrawny boy, without dying or getting into trouble you'll live to regret."
His armored shoulder knocked hers as she passed. "They always weep for their mothers when the kings break them."
Blazar's jaw clenched but her face remained stone.
Behind her, the guard muttered to his companion loud enough for her to hear: "If I ever meet his mother, I'll scold her for not thinking twice before sending a powerless whelp to this slaughterhouse." He spat on the cobblestones. "Some parents must have a death wish."
The other guard snorted. "Bet you five hundred Crims, he's dead by sunset."
As Blazar stepped to the gates, the distant rumble of thunder rolled across the courtyard.
Most girls came here dreaming of crowns.
Blazar came to kill one. The strongest of the four. Rival to her boss.
The chilled morning wind bit at her exposed skin as she stared up at the academy's looming towers, their spires cutting into the dawn like daggers. Somewhere in that den of monsters, a king was waiting to die.
Her heart raced, but she remained still, the icy wind sweeping across the courtyard as if to test her resolve.
The admission letter was still clutched tightly in her hand—an official invitation to the prestigious academy, where the rulers of the five kingdoms were trained.
She had been to countless missions before, but nothing had prepared her for the reality of stepping foot into this world.
"Orion," she muttered under her breath, the alias she had been given.
With a sharp exhale she walked foward and swiped her forged student ID.
Orion Spade. Noble House of Spade.
A lie, like everything else about her.
The bindings around her chest itched, but discomfort was nothing new. Pain was familiar.
The gates open with a heavy groan, the stone archway revealing the sprawling academy grounds beyond. She was here now. And there was no turning back.
She adjusted the strap of her bag, fingers tightening around the admission letter.
"Just walk in. Don't hesitate. Don't look back. It's just a school full of spoiled royals, nobles and rich kids."
She took a breath—and stepped forward.
The academy courtyard smelled like lightning and arrogance.
Blazar adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers brushing the hidden knife beneath her sleeve. Around her, students laughed too loud, their polished boots kicking up gravel as they strutted like peacocks.
Then—hell broke loose.
A deafening CRACK split the air. The ground trembled. From the main school building, students burst out like panicked rats, their screams shredding the once-peaceful space.
"RUN! HE'S LOST IT!"
"CALL THE IMPERIAL ELITE GUARDS! SOMEONE—"
"MOM, PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA DIE HERE—"
Blazar froze.
A storm raged in the courtyard. Not a natural one.
This storm had fury.
Lightning lanced down in jagged forks, splitting marble statues in half. The wind howled like a living thing, ripping banners from the walls. And in the center of it all—
A man wreathed in lightning.
Dante.
The Lycan king's eyes burned molten gold, his body crackling with raw voltage. A student tripped, scrambling backward as Dante slammed him into the ground, fingers sparking.
"DO I LOOK LIKE A JOKE TO YOU?!"
The boy sobbed, snot and blood mixing on his face. "P-please—"
Dante's fist surged with electricity—
Blazar ducked behind a pillar, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
Stupid. Stupid. Why did I think this place would be a normal school?
Around her, the world descended into madness.
A girl clutched her phone, screaming into it. "DAD, PULL ME OUT! I DON'T CARE IF IT'S THE BEST SCHOOL—"
"Mom, get me out of this nightmare!" a guy cried to no one in particular.
A group of nobles barricaded themselves behind thick rose bushes, their pristine uniforms splattered with mud and rain.
"WHERE ARE THE OTHER KINGS?!"
"KAELRIC! VESPER! XEARI! ANYONE—"
"Call the kings! Someone call the fucking kings—"
Then—a body flew.
A boy, limp as a ragdoll, slammed into the ground at her feet. His nose was broken, his lip split. He groaned, reaching for her.
"H-help me…"
Blazar stared.
Why should I?
But then—a shadow blotted out the sky.
The wolf landed before her, buffalo-sized, his fur the color of a volcanic eruption. Lightning licked his fangs. His growl vibrated the earth.
The boy at her feet whimpered.
Blazar's mind raced.
If I save him… he'll owe me. Favors are currency here.
Before she could second-guess, she stepped between them, arms spread.
She took a deep breath. "Stop. This isn't a battlefield."
The first rule of surviving Royal Imperium Prestigia? Never lock eyes with a king, unless he wants you to. And she had broken that rule.
The effect was instant.
Dante's massive wolf form froze mid-snarl, his lightning fizzling out like a faulty neon sign.
The students who'd been screaming for their lives choked on their own panic, their faces contorting into pure "Is this son of a bitch serious?!" expressions.
A nearby girl clutching a "Kaelric's NO.1 fun" mug dropped it, the ceramic shattering louder than the silence.
Someone in the back whispered, "Ohhh, he's new new."
For a heartbeat, the storm itself seemed to still.
Dante's ear twitched. His glowing eyes slowly narrowed, scanning Blazar up and down like she'd just declared war wearing pajamas. A low, disbelieving growl rumbled in his throat—the Lycan equivalent of "You've gotta be kidding me."
Then—Dante laughed.
A sound like bones breaking.
"I'LL KILL YOU TOO, NOBODY."
His paw lashed out.
Blazar twisted, but not fast enough. The blow slammed into her ribs, sending her skidding across the courtyard. Pain exploded through her side.
Idiot! Should've thought twice!
She rolled to her knees—just as Dante leaped.
His movements were lightning given flesh. No time to dodge. No time to think.
Only react.
Her knife slipped into her palm—a tiny, silver thing.
As Dante's jaws snapped toward her throat, she stabbed upward.
The blade bit into his foreleg.
The wolf HOWLED, the sound splintering the air.
Every student, teacher, and fleeing groundskeeper whipped their heads toward Blazar, their expressions a perfect mix of "Did he just stab a king?!" and "Oh, we're definitely all dying now."
One first-year dropped his phone into a puddle, mouth hanging open like a broken marionette, while a nearby professor watching from a balcony with a worried expression rubbed his hands on his face, whispering, "Well. That's expulsion—and probably execution."
Dante's claws still found her.
A searing tear across her cheek.
His claws left fire in their wake, her blood sizzling where it dripped onto the marble.
Blood dripped into her mouth—hot, metallic.
Kaelric didn't warn me that the kings are this strong! That bastard clearly sent me here to die!
And now, this is how I die.
A second passed. Then—
The wolf convulsed.
His fur receded. His bones snapped back.
And suddenly—
A man collapsed onto her lap.
Unconscious.
His fiery orange hair stuck to his forehead, his skin still crackling with residual energy.
Blazar stared, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
…What the hell just happened?