"Did I bore you with my speech?"
Endrick’s sharp voice cut through the air, his eyes pinned on Aaron like a predator watching its prey.
All heads turned toward Aaron. The atmosphere stiffened as the majority of the students glared at him in thinly veiled disapproval.
Aaron, however, couldn’t care less.
He had already figured everything out. His parents’ legendary accomplishments before their untimely death had cast a long shadow, one that drew the envy and resentment of many students. They saw him as "lucky"—a golden boy who’d inherited prestige without effort. And all the while, the principal fanned the flames of their hatred from behind the scenes, feigning neutrality.
"Yes, Principal. It was so boring I almost fell asleep," Aaron replied coolly, his words laced with venom.
Save face for a man who tried to have him assassinated?
Not a chance in hell.
"You dare speak to the principal that way?!"
One of the bulkier instructors surged forward, his voice thunderous, aura flaring in an attempt to intimidate.
Aaron slowly stood to his feet, unfazed. His voice was cold, deliberate.
"If you take even one more step toward me, I will ruin your life beyond repair. And if you keep pushing, I’ll extend my retaliation to your loved ones."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
If the academy wanted to treat him with contempt just because of his parents’ greatness—even in death—then fine. He’d wear their hatred like armor and make it work for him.
Why pretend to be a saint when the world had already painted him as a devil?
"You—!" the instructor barked, eyes ablaze as he glared at Aaron like a wolf eyeing an injured deer. But he didn’t move. Despite the show of force, something in Aaron’s eyes—calm, steady, cold—made it clear: Aaron wasn’t bluffing. Push him, and he would follow through.
"Thought so," Aaron muttered, brushing past the stunned instructor and walking toward the podium, every step silent but loud in presence.
Endrick observed with interest, choosing not to interfere just yet. He wanted to see how far Aaron would take this audacity.
Aaron could see through the principal’s performance perfectly. Endrick wanted a villain—someone to take the fall, to be loathed and disrespected. Very well.
A ruthless man earned more caution than a charitable one.
Philanthropists drew leeches hoping to gain from their kindness. But a cold, calculating businessman—someone unafraid to destroy lives through legal or brutal means—such men weren’t trifled with.
With composed strides, Aaron climbed the podium and approached the microphone. The silence in the room thickened. Gazes burned into him, but he remained unaffected.
He met Endrick’s eyes for a brief moment. A silent challenge passed between them.
Then Aaron took the mic.
"I’m Aaron. You all know me. And yes—my parents were demigods who died protecting you sorry excuses of humans."
A few students flinched. Others looked away, shame or bitterness flickering in their eyes.
"All these years, you’ve called me a reject, a failure. You laughed at me, bullied me, made me your punching bag. And I kept my head down... telling myself I was honoring my parents by staying quiet, by keeping the peace."
His voice dropped to a quiet, dangerous tone.
Aaron scanned the crowd, eyes piercing.
"By staying silent, I wasn’t protecting their name. I was helping you trample it. I was feeding your egos while spitting on their legacy. You got so comfortable you even sent bastards to kill me in my own home—without a second thought for who my parents were."
The room was dead silent.
His voice thundered across the hall, laced with conviction.
"I won’t hold back anymore. I’ll use everything at my disposal to bring my enemies down—including the power my parents’ name still carries."
He stepped back from the microphone.
"I’ll see you all during the examination."
Aaron descended the podium with the same eerie calm, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.
Dan opened his mouth to speak, but Aaron cut him off without even looking his way.
"If you say even one word to me, I’ll cut out your tongue."
From his seat, Endrick smiled slightly, arms crossed. He understood the subtext of Aaron’s declaration. Part of it had been aimed at him, and that was fine. He wouldn’t act against Aaron just yet—he couldn’t afford to.
Despite what the academy showed on the surface, Aaron still had unseen allies. His parents’ loyal subordinates were alive, and they wouldn’t sit idle if Aaron’s life was endangered.
Endrick cleared his throat.
"Aaron will receive sanctions for disrespecting the institution," he declared in a composed tone. "He won’t accompany us to the exam site. He must find his own way there. Failure to arrive means forfeiting admission. That is... if he’s still interested."
Endrick’s eyes locked briefly with Aaron’s. The message was clear:
You showed your hand. I’m showing mine.
To prevent manipulation or favoritism, the exam site’s location was never revealed to the public. Only a few key figures and school heads knew in advance, ensuring a fair test environment.
But Aaron remained unfazed by the punishment.
He had already memorized Endrick’s scent, along with everyone else in the room. As a Primordial hybrid, tracking them would be effortless. Still, he didn’t plan to go through all that trouble. Doing so might risk revealing just how much power he truly held.
Endrick, noticing Aaron’s calm reaction, couldn’t help but smile again. His suspicion was now a certainty—Aaron had backing. And whatever force stood behind him was powerful enough to embolden this kind of arrogance.
"Alright, students," Endrick clapped once, regaining everyone’s attention. "Line up in an orderly fashion. The buses are waiting outside. The location is far, and the journey will take several days. We must leave immediately."
Students obeyed, shuffling out in a line as instructed.
As they passed by, Lily slowed briefly by Aaron’s seat.
"When you get to the exam site..." she said softly, "I want a private conversation with you."
Then she walked away with the others.
Aaron watched her go, the corner of his lips twitching upward.
Her deliberate use of ’when’...
Interesting. It raised his opinion of her—from a -10 to a cautious -9.
While the others queued out, Aaron stayed seated, unmoved.
He wasn’t leaving with them, so why bother ruffling himself up?