Young students, from noble and common families alike, passed through the great castle corridor leading to the main hall.
On the walls, ancient paintings portrayed important figures of the Academy — some depicted legendary heroes, others told stories that would be eternalized within that place.
The architecture was impeccable, almost divine, possessing a mysterious power that inspired all residents to move forward.
If it resembled anything, it was the ancient Roman palaces of Earth.
It felt as though every stone and every piece of metal used in the construction told a story worthy of respect and glory.
Murmurs echoed on all sides as people made their way down the corridor.
Groups were already forming — mainly those of the nobility, always trying to forge alliances of mutual interest.
Some preferred to stay apart, like lone wolves.
Others — the commoners — quickly banded together, aware that they'd need unity if they wanted to survive and graduate in that place filled with powerful figures.
Among that crowd, one young man stood out.
He was tall, with silky brown hair parted down the middle, falling gently to the sides.
Depending on the angle, his fringe partially covered his golden eyes — eyes that gleamed like the purest, most precious gold.
His skin was fair, and his attire immaculate: a white dress shirt, a light gray blazer, a dark gray tie, and a matching suit adorned with golden stripes along the edges and sleeves.
On his chest, he wore a silver brooch with a diamond-like gem embedded in the center, connected to a thin chain that curved elegantly at the level of his abdomen.
The young man's beauty didn't come from excess — he wasn't some fair-haired prince covered in jewels — but from balance.
His charm came from refinement, posture, and a mature aura.
He walked past others with his hands in his pockets, admiring the architecture, ignoring everything else as if nothing around him mattered.
– Hey, who's that guy? – people whispered, pointing discreetly.
– No idea. Never saw him at noble gatherings or the Young Masters' meetings. Could he be a commoner?
– A commoner? No way. Look at how he's dressed, and that refined air... maybe he's a second-year student.
– Indeed, he seems more composed than everyone around.
The chatter spread, but Evo — the young man in question — seemed completely oblivious.
His attention was fixed solely on the Academy.
– To build a place like this must've cost a fortune. Guess they take this place pretty seriously – he thought, lost in his own world.
After a few minutes, they reached a massive hall.
Several tables were arranged across the space, waiters moved about serving drinks, and at the far end, a long buffet displayed an impressive variety of foods and delicacies.
An orchestra played soft classical music, filling the air with elegance and harmony.
Evo entered, observing everything with genuine interest.
Only he knew how much he loved art and architecture.
In his past life, he'd collected postcards of places he dreamed of visiting after finishing school.
But... – he bit his lip – that life had been cut short before he could ever see those landscapes with his own eyes.
A primitive rage stirred within him.
His fists clenched inside his pockets, and a vein throbbed on his temple.
The air around him grew cold.
People nearby felt the sudden drop in temperature and looked around, uneasy.
– Harrrr! I need to calm down. I said I'd leave the past behind... looks like I still have work to do – he muttered under his breath, loosening his hands.
The atmosphere normalized again.
Evo walked to a waiter and took a glass of non-alcoholic champagne.
– Thank you. – he said, and the waiter bowed before moving on to serve others.
Taking a sip, Evo watched the orchestra quietly — until a hand grabbed his shoulder.
– Hey! You! How dare you walk past us and ignore us? Do you even know who we are, commoner?! – an annoying voice barked from behind, followed by laughter.
Evo kept his gaze on the stage. The brightness in his eyes vanished, replaced by icy indifference.
He sighed and tilted his head slightly back to glance at whoever was bothering him.
Three young men stood there.
The loud one was a boy with dark blue hair and an arrogant smirk.
Behind him, a short and chubby kid in tight clothes looked ready to pop the buttons off his vest.
The third, with light brown hair, wore a tense and uneasy smile.
– Ugh... pathetic nobles trying to show off. Looks like I've attracted a bunch of idiots. Better deal with this quickly before it gets worse – he thought, staring at the blue-haired nuisance gripping his shoulder.
People around began to watch.
Evo turned slightly forward and took another sip.
– Gluc... Harrr... I'll give you three seconds to remove your hand from my shoulder – he said, his calm tone so cold it sent shivers down spines.
The trio laughed, thinking he was joking.
– Huh? What did you say? Couldn't hear you, say it louder! Hahaha! – mocked the blue-haired boy, cupping his ear.
A murmur spread through the crowd.
– That idiot from the Vasquez family is done for – whispered a girl.
– What do you mean? – asked the boy beside her.
– Just watch. You'll understand.
Evo began counting, calmly:
– One... gluc! – another sip.
– Two... – still staring ahead, feeling the grip tighten.
– Hmmm... Rarrr... Three. – he sighed, weary of the nonsense.
PLOC!
The sound echoed through the hall.
Everyone froze.
The blue-haired boy looked at his trembling friends — pale, sweating, shaking.
The chubby one collapsed under his own weight.
– What the hell's wrong with you idiots? – he asked, irritated.
Then he noticed the horrified stares.
– What's going on...? – he muttered, following the trembling finger of his friend pointing forward.
– L-look... in front of you... – the boy stammered.
He looked. And instantly regretted it.
Evo's golden eyes glared at him — jagged, cold, lifeless.
Following his gaze downward, he saw where his hand should have been resting on Evo's shoulder... but there was nothing there.
Looking up — Evo's sword gleamed, dripping blood.
Then down — his own arm lay on the floor.
– Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! – the scream shattered the silence. Even the orchestra stopped.
– Aaaaaah, my arm! Help! Somebody help me! – he cried desperately.
– How dare you?! Do you know who I am? I'm from the fami–
– The Vasquez family. I know – interrupted Evo, calmly wiping the blood from his hand with a handkerchief, quickly turning it crimson.
– Then why did you do this?! Aren't you afraid of–
– Why should I care about an insignificant family that can't even teach its heir basic manners? – he replied, tilting his head with cold curiosity.
Silence fell across the hall.
No one dared breathe.
– Who do you think you are to insu–
– Oh, I haven't introduced myself? – Evo placed a hand over his chest with serene composure.
– Allow me to correct that. – he said, louder, for everyone to hear.
He bowed gracefully — one arm behind his back, the other across his chest.
– A pleasure to meet you all. I am Evo Eylam, heir of the Ironblood Family.
The silence grew even heavier.
Everyone knew that name — one of the founding families of the Empire, legendary warriors led by the fearsome matriarch Noeli Eylam.
The Vasquez boy turned ghostly white.
– P-please! Forgive me! – he sobbed, kneeling, clutching the bleeding stump.
Evo stepped closer, towering over him.
– Listen carefully. Next time you try something foolish, Calister Vasquez... – he smirked darkly – I can't guarantee it'll just be an arm. Understood?
The boy nodded frantically.
– That goes for everyone here! – Evo raised his voice. – If any of you come to bother me with idiocies like this... – he pointed at Calister – what detaches from your bodies won't be just an arm.
His words rolled like thunder.
Some froze in terror.
Others looked on with awe.
That moment would be remembered as legend.
– Hm? Excuse me... what's going on here? – a firm voice broke the tension.
A tall, gray-haired man in his fifties appeared beside Evo.
– When did this guy get here...? – Evo thought, instantly on guard.
– Relax – said the man. – I'm the Academy's swordsmanship instructor. I just want to understand what happened.
– Hmpt! – Evo shrugged. – That mutt tried to put on a show, so I just put him in his place – he said, taking another sip of champagne.
The old man studied him, intrigued.
– I'm Evo Eylam. And please, don't look at me like you want to eat me with your eyes. I prefer when women do that. Not into men. – he added dryly.
The professor blinked, then burst into laughter.
– Hahahaha! My apologies, boy. You're quite the character.
The Eylam family, huh? Well... I look forward to seeing you in my swordsmanship classes. – he said with a faint smile.
Soon after, healers arrived to reattach Calister's arm.
The murmurs resumed — gossip and speculation flooding the hall.
Evo, unbothered, simply grabbed another glass.
– Ahhh... delightful – he murmured, pleased, waiting for the orchestra to resume.
Farther away, two people watched him.
– So that's what you meant by "he's done for"? – asked the boy.
– Yes – answered the girl, smiling. – He's... quite interesting. Maybe I should get closer to him.
– Maybe. But come on, princess, other nobles are waiting to talk to you.
They walked off, vanishing into the crowd.
In a private room above the hall, a woman watched the entire spectacle through the glass, amused.
Her long, dark-purple hair cascaded down her back to her wide, luscious hips.
She wore an elegant purple dress trimmed with black, seated like royalty upon her velvet chair.
– Here's your drink, Madam Director. – said a blonde woman with glasses, bowing slightly as she handed her a glass.
– Thank you, Ravina – replied the woman, bringing the glass to her full lips.
The purple lipstick left a mark on the crystal.
She smiled.
– You've barely arrived, and you're already giving me trouble, Evo...
You'd better not make too much of a mess, you little scoundrel.
She chuckled softly, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Rising, she headed for the exit.
– Leaving already, Director? – asked Ravina.
– Yes. It's time to begin the ceremony. I can hardly wait. – she said, excitement in her tone.
She waved and left.
Ravina turned her gaze back to the hall, spotting Evo deep in thought.
– Just how interesting must that boy be... to catch the Director's attention? – she murmured, adjusting her glasses.
– Well... I'll find out soon enough. – she finished, leaving the room.
Evo, unaware of the gaze from above, smiled faintly as the music filled the hall once again.
What would this new attention and these encounters bring him?
Trouble... or opportunity?
For now, we do not know.
So, keep following our story.