"I... I wouldn’t dare...," Endrick bowed his head, voice trembling, denying flatly, even as a cold bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He swore violently in his heart, curses flaring against Aaron’s name. He couldn’t believe the sheer wickedness — the boldness — of Aaron to drag him into the eye of evil without flinching.
"Oh? I have evidence though that says otherwise," Aaron smiled, his expression cold and cruel, bringing out his phone with a deliberate slowness. His movements carried a certain calm confidence, like a predator laying bare the trap after the prey had already stepped into it.
Endrick’s eyes widened, his pupils shrinking. His heart skipped a beat. The moment he saw Aaron’s hand dip into his pocket, a chill shot up his spine. All color drained from his face in an instant, leaving him pale and cold like someone staring down the edge of a cliff.
His heart began to race violently. Thump. Thump. Thump. What kind of evidence did Aaron have? What could he possibly hold that might expose him so thoroughly? Was it a bluff? A setup? Endrick didn’t know — and the uncertainty alone was driving him mad. He shook where he stood, his knees nearly giving way, hoping desperately that whatever Aaron had wasn’t concrete enough to destroy him.
"Oh, it is concrete, sir principal. You should give up on lying your way out of this," Aaron said, tapping his screen with casual elegance, and the audio began to play.
Daniel’s voice crackled through the device — a confession laid bare for all to hear. Cold. Unmistakable. Irrefutable.
"You bastard! You went to my master’s house to kill his son?" Joseph’s roar cracked through the tense silence like thunder tearing through the sky. His body surged forward like a cannon shot, leaping from his position and closing the distance in a blink.
His hand clamped around Endrick’s face with crushing force, lifting the man from the ground like a ragdoll, and without mercy, he drove him into the earth. The impact was vicious, the sound of bone meeting stone echoing out as the crowd flinched back.
Those who had been near Endrick moments ago had already put distance between them and the man, as if sensing the storm that was coming the moment Aaron called his name.
The violent slam shattered Endrick’s nose, blood gushing out, his body twitching under the force. Joseph hadn’t held back — the blow was well beyond anything a B-rank could endure without permanent damage.
"Joseph, restrain yourself!" the vine master snapped, stepping in with a sharp tone, his presence alone halting Joseph’s hand before he could throw another strike. The man’s sheer spiritual pressure was enough to cool even the berserker’s fury, if only slightly.
"To dare lay your hand on the son of Blue Star’s heroes... an appropriate punishment will be given to you," the vine master said, his voice low but deadly serious, each word dripping with righteous wrath. His gaze was like winter steel, and Endrick felt that even if he lived, he might never breathe easy again.
"Hold on, Vine Master. Don’t you think you’re being too forward?"
A calm yet charged voice cut through the moment. Another figure approached — tall, commanding, his steps leisurely but every bit as imposing as thunderclouds gathering before a storm.
He was the Lightning God — a demigod blessed with dominion over lightning, a man whose reputation crackled with raw power and controversy alike.
"What do you mean?" the vine master asked sharply, turning to face him, irritation brimming beneath his otherwise composed demeanor. "He dared to lay hands on our friend’s son. Have you forgotten our promise to them before they entered the dungeon they knew they’d likely never return from?"
"The part where we promised to protect him?" the lightning demigod replied, casually tilting his head. "Yeah, I remember. But you know... he’s been bullied for years after their deaths, and we’ve all just stood by. Folded our hands. Watched."
The vine master’s face tensed, but the younger demigod continued, unbothered.
"We couldn’t intervene. Doing so would make his relationship with others strained, unnatural. He’d never form real bonds, always seen as the spoiled heir if we butt in every time someone sneezes in his direction," the vine master explained.
"Of course. That’s the excuse," the lightning god nodded mockingly. "Can’t uproot his enemies before he grows, right? Let him struggle so he becomes strong. Well, he made a bet with Levi, didn’t he? If he ranks first in the examination, he gets to do with Endrick as he pleases. If he doesn’t — he forfeits half of his parents’ wealth. High stakes."
The demigod turned his head and pointed at Endrick like one might gesture at a worm in the mud — dispassionate, dismissive, and uninterested.
A hush swept the crowd. All eyes turned to Aaron, thoughts shifting fast. Had his plan backfired? That was the sentiment in the air, especially as the vine master now remained silent.
Endrick, who moments ago had seen death flashing before his eyes, suddenly felt a strange warmth bloom in his chest — relief. A rare, almost foreign emotion. He allowed it to wash over him, despite the blood pouring from his face.
Aaron, however, simply smiled.
"That’s fine. Endrick is probably not the mastermind anyway," he said with a chilling calm, not once looking at Endrick. "He might have someone backing him from the shadows. When I win, I’ll learn every single thing from my new toy."
He didn’t even bother to hide the venom in his words as he looked toward the lightning god — eyes gleaming with intent.
The lightning god, for all his divine stature, didn’t even blink. Aaron’s subtle challenge rolled off him like rain on steel. So what if the boy was angry? He was still just a boy. He couldn’t do anything — not to him.
Liam, off to the side, clenched his fists. He had caught it — the undercurrent in Aaron’s words. The subtle implication. The unspoken accusation. And so had everyone else. But a demigod was beyond question. Beyond reproach.
They were law makers and law breakers, divine arbiters of Blue Star, and unless one had irrefutable evidence, their sins could not be exposed, let alone punished.
Subduing a demigod took multiple others working in unison — and even then, the planet itself might suffer. That alone made them untouchable.
The vine master stared at the lightning god, deep dissatisfaction in his eyes. But he said nothing. He couldn’t afford a fallout. The lightning god was younger, yes — but ambitious. Dangerous. The one most likely to ascend, to break Blue Star’s limits and become the first god.
And Aaron... wasn’t worth risking that outcome.
"Since you have no issue with my opinion," the lightning god said with a smug smile, "I guess we can proceed with that."
"Fine by me," Aaron replied with a lazy shrug. His tone was light, but his eyes were steel. He had never truly cared whether Endrick died here or not. His goal was vengeance — personal vengeance. Having it done for him would’ve been a bonus, nothing more.
"Just don’t defend him afterwards, when I win," Aaron added, voice cool and mocking. "That’ll look bad for your reputation, Mr. Demigod. Defending someone twice? Rumors might start. Real bad ones. About the demigod who never keeps his word."
"Hah!" the lightning god barked a laugh. "Baiting me, huh? I admire your arrogance. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But don’t worry — I won’t go back on my word. I’ve got honor to maintain, after all. That said... you’ll have to join the exam officially now if you want this deal to stand."
"What does it matter?" Aaron scoffed, stretching his neck lazily. "I don’t see the point in wasting effort for small rewards when I can swoop in and reap the bountiful harvest after the weaklings have done all the hard work. Pretty sure some of the others feel the same way."
His voice carried far, loud enough for every student remaining to hear. The arrogance in his tone was like a blade drawn deliberately across their pride, and it cut.
Murmurs of disdain rippled through the crowd. Hatred simmered.
"Oh? Quite the boaster," the lightning god said with a grin. "I hope your skills match that mouth of yours. Now off you go — or I disqualify you right here and now."
Aaron nodded. Not bowing. Not bending. Just a sharp tilt of his head — defiant, unyielding — before turning toward the rift.
The lightning god had no intention of letting him stay and stir the pot any longer.
But Aaron didn’t mind. He had done exactly what he came to do.
He had drawn the line. Identified his true enemy. Found the one who would feel his wrath in the near future.
And the lightning god?
He would regret ever letting his pride speak louder than his instinct. He would regret not ending Aaron when he had the chance — because Aaron would not forget. And he would not forgive.