The Grand Arena of the Royal Academy thrummed with barely contained energy as ten thousand students packed the tiered seating. Anthonio Crimsonhart stood among the assembled competitors on the arena floor, his crimson eyes scanning the crowd with calculated precision. The Ring of Crimson Shadows pulsed against his finger, a constant reminder of the torrential power he kept leashed beneath its suppression.
Three weeks, he thought, reviewing his meta-knowledge of the competition's original timeline. Three weeks until the finals, where Kael was supposed to cement his legend by defeating the Sovereign-level academy champion in single combat.
A thin smile touched his lips. That wouldn't be happening this time.
"Impressive turnout," Kael said beside him, his blue eyes bright with excitement. The protagonist looked every bit the hero he was meant to be—golden hair catching the morning light, his three Divine Essences radiating a subtle aura that made weaker students step back instinctively. "I've never seen the Academy this energized."
"The competition only happens once every three years," Anthonio replied, his tone perfectly calibrated to sound interested but not overly invested. "Most students only get one chance at glory."
"Two for us, at least." Kael grinned, clapping him on the shoulder with genuine camaraderie. "We're both young enough to compete again before graduation."
If you survive that long, Anthonio thought, even as he returned the smile. Though I suppose you will. I need you alive to watch everything you were meant to have slip through your fingers.
"ATTENTION, COMPETITORS!"
Headmaster Aldric Thornhaven's voice boomed across the arena, amplified by cultivation techniques that made the very air vibrate. The elderly Sovereign stood at the center of the competition grounds, his silver beard and imposing presence commanding instant silence.
"Welcome to the 347th Annual Academy Competition," Aldric continued, his eyes sweeping across the assembled students. "For three weeks, you will face trials designed to test not just your cultivation, but your tactical thinking, your resilience, and your ability to work as a team. The competition consists of four stages."
Anthonio already knew what was coming, but he listened with appropriate attention. Around him, hundreds of students leaned forward eagerly.
"Stage One: The Qualification Rounds. Individual combat in randomized brackets. The top two hundred and fifty-six competitors will advance." Aldric gestured, and a massive formation array blazed to life behind him, displaying bracket structures. "Stage Two: Team Formation. You will form teams of four and complete various challenges. Only the top sixty-four teams advance."
"Stage Three: The Gauntlet," the Headmaster continued. "Your teams will face increasingly difficult trials in the Academy's secure training dimensions. Combat, puzzles, survival challenges—everything is permitted. The top sixteen teams advance to the finals."
He paused for dramatic effect, and the arena held its collective breath.
"Stage Four: The Championship Arena. Single elimination team battles. The winning team claims the Grand Prize—a cultivation resource of Emperor-level quality, access to the Academy's restricted technique vault, and the eternal glory of victory."
Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd. Emperor-level resources were worth fortunes, capable of advancing even Transcendence cultivators by entire star levels.
And none of them know what I know, Anthonio thought. The real prize isn't the official reward. It's what's hidden in the fifth trial of the Gauntlet—the Tears of the Phoenix, an artifact capable of evolving one's cultivation essence to the next tier. In the original timeline, Kael used it to push his Divine Essences even further beyond their limits.
Another thing that would be his instead.
"Qualification rounds begin in one hour," Aldric announced. "May the strongest prevail."
The competitors dispersed to prepare, and Anthonio found himself walking alongside Kael's assembled team. Seraphina moved on Kael's right side, her ice-blue hair shimmering in the sunlight, every inch the proper fiancée. But when her silver eyes flickered to Anthonio for the briefest moment, he caught the heat beneath the frost—the memory of what they'd done the night before.
My ice princess, he thought with satisfaction. Publicly engaged to him, but she screamed my name last night while I—
"Anthonio, you're looking confident," Lyra Shadowmere said, pulling him from his thoughts. Selene's younger sister moved with predatory grace, her dark eyes assessing. "First time in a major competition. Nervous?"
"Should I be?" he replied smoothly. "I've trained hard."
"Manifestation 9-Star is impressive for your age," she acknowledged. "Especially given your... difficult start. But this competition draws the Academy's elite. Transcendence cultivators. Students who've been training their whole lives for this moment."
"Then I suppose I'll have to exceed expectations." Anthonio's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I've become rather good at that."
Lyra studied him for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Just don't get yourself killed in the first round. Selene would be disappointed."
If only you knew, he thought, watching her walk away. Your sister spends her nights bound and blindfolded, begging me to use her however I please. A Sovereign 6-Star completely submitting to my will.
"She likes you," Aria Goldenheart said suddenly, appearing at his side. The golden-haired beauty's amber eyes sparkled with amusement. "Lyra, I mean. Or at least, she's intrigued."
Anthonio turned to face his second heroine, taking in the sight of her. Aria wore the Academy's standard combat attire, but somehow she made it look elegant—the fitted jacket emphasizing her curves, her long legs drawing appreciative glances from passing male students.
"Intrigued isn't the same as liking," he replied.
"True." Aria stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear. "But we both know you have a talent for turning intrigue into... more intimate feelings. Don't we?"
Her hand brushed his arm, a gesture that would seem innocent to observers but sent a clear message. Anthonio remembered three nights ago in the library, Aria's back arched against the bookshelf, her moans muffled by his hand as he—
"Save the flirting for after the competition," Cassandra Stormwind interrupted, appearing with her characteristic bluntness. The lightning specialist's violet eyes crackled with barely contained energy. "Some of us are trying to focus."
"Jealous, Cassandra?" Aria teased.
"Of what? Anthonio's attention?" Cassandra snorted, but her gaze lingered on him for a moment. "Please. I get what I need from him in the training rooms."
The double meaning wasn't lost on anyone who knew their arrangement. Cassandra was his competitive fuck buddy—no romance, no complications, just intense physical encounters that left them both satisfied and exhausted.
"Speaking of training," Anthonio said, redirecting the conversation before it could draw unwanted attention, "we should review the bracket assignments. First round opponents will be announced soon."
"Always so practical," Aria sighed, but she nodded. "Fine. Let's find somewhere quiet to strategize."
They made their way to one of the preparation chambers—private rooms where teams could discuss tactics away from prying ears and eyes. Kael's full team assembled: himself, Seraphina, Lyra, a wind cultivator named Marcus Windborne, and technically Anthonio, though he wasn't officially part of Kael's inner circle yet.
"Alright," Kael said once they were settled. "First round is individual combat, so we can't help each other directly. But we should still coordinate. If we all make it to Stage Two, forming a team will be easier."
"Anthonio and I are guaranteed to advance," Seraphina said, her voice cool and confident. "Manifestation 9-Star and Transcendence 3-Star respectively. Unless we're matched against upper-level Transcendence opponents in the first round, victory is assured."
"Don't underestimate the competition," Lyra warned. "Plenty of fourth and fifth-year students have reached Transcendence. And some have combat experience beyond the Academy."
"She's right," Marcus added. The wind cultivator was steady and reliable, if not particularly remarkable. "The Qualification Rounds are designed to be brutal. They want to thin the herd quickly."
Anthonio listened, contributing occasionally, but his mind was already three steps ahead. He knew exactly who would be in his bracket. He knew which "dark horses" would surprise everyone with hidden strength. And he knew precisely which opponents posed actual threats versus which were just impressive-looking paper tigers.
Round One: Lei Thunderfist, Manifestation 7-Star, relies on overwhelming offensive power but has poor defense. Exploit it with speed and precision strikes.
Round Two: Sarah Ironshield, Manifestation 9-Star, defensive specialist. Outlast her stamina, then strike when her guard drops.
Round Three: This is where it gets interesting. James Shadowblade, Transcendence 1-Star, actual threat. But he has a weakness—overconfidence when facing "weaker" opponents.
The strategy session continued for another hour, with Kael naturally taking the leadership role. Anthonio played his part perfectly—offering useful insights, but never overshadowing the protagonist. It was a careful balance he'd perfected over the past month.
Let him lead. Let him think he's guiding me. The irony is delicious.
"One last thing," Kael said as they prepared to leave. His expression turned serious. "Watch out for the Azure Phoenix team. Their captain, Lei Feng, is Transcendence 5-Star. If we face them in the later stages, it'll be our toughest challenge."
"The team that won the championship three years ago?" Marcus asked, frowning. "I thought they graduated."
"Most did. But Lei Feng deliberately delayed his graduation to compete one more time. He wants to win twice—something only three people in Academy history have achieved."
Four after this competition, Anthonio thought. Because I'm going to ensure we win. And then I'm going to ensure everyone knows it was my contributions that made the difference.
They dispersed to their individual preparations, and Anthonio finally found himself alone. He made his way to his private quarters—one of the benefits of being noticed by the Dean and recruited into the elite training program was access to better accommodations.
The moment his door closed, shadows writhed in the corner of his room.
"Master."
Selene emerged from the darkness, her voluptuous form clad in her usual servant's attire. But there was nothing servile about the hunger in her eyes as she approached him.
"I have thirty minutes before the bracket announcements," Anthonio said, his voice taking on the commanding edge that made her shiver with anticipation. "Is that why you're here, Selene? Because you need your master's attention?"
"Yes," she breathed, already sinking to her knees before him. "I've been aching all morning, master. Watching you stand there in the arena, so calm and controlled while everyone else buzzes with nervous energy. Knowing what you're truly capable of, knowing that you could destroy half the competition with a single attack if you wanted to..."
Her hands moved to his belt, fingers deft and experienced. "It makes me wet just thinking about it. All that power, that dominance, and only a select few get to experience it fully."
Anthonio's hand tangled in her dark hair, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "You want to experience it now? Want me to use you like the desperate slut you are?"
"God, yes," Selene moaned. "Please, master. I need—"
A knock at the door interrupted them.
Anthonio's eyes flashed with irritation, but Selene simply melted back into the shadows as naturally as breathing. One moment she was there, the next she'd vanished completely—the benefits of Sovereign-level shadow cultivation.
"Come in," he called, his voice perfectly calm.
Dean Victoria Ashcroft entered, her mature beauty and commanding presence filling the room. The Sovereign 5-Star closed the door behind her with deliberate care, and Anthonio noticed the subtle tremor in her hands, the slight flush on her cheeks.
"Dean Ashcroft," he said, his tone neutral. "I wasn't expecting a visit."
"I wanted to speak with you before the competition begins," Victoria said, but her eyes betrayed her. She was trying to maintain her professional demeanor, but they both knew why she was really here.
"Of course. What did you wish to discuss?"
Victoria moved closer, and he caught the scent of her perfume—expensive, sophisticated, utterly at odds with what she'd become for him. "The competition will put you in the spotlight, Anthonio. Your performance in the first few rounds will draw attention. I wanted to... ensure you're prepared for the scrutiny."
"I appreciate your concern." He stepped toward her, and she inhaled sharply. "But I think we both know that's not why you're here, Victoria."
The use of her first name—something he only did in private—made her eyes dilate. "Anthonio, I—"
"Tell me the real reason."
She bit her lip, a gesture that looked almost innocent on her mature features. "I... I wanted to see you. Before you went out there. I know it's inappropriate, I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop thinking about—"
"About being on your knees in your office?" He moved closer, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that bypassed her conscious mind and spoke directly to the submissive part of her he'd awakened. "About how I bent you over your desk and made you scream? About how you begged me to take your ass?"
"Yes," she whimpered. "I'm supposed to be professional, supposed to maintain boundaries, but every time I see you in the halls I remember what you did to me. What you made me feel. What I am when I'm alone with you."
"And what are you, Victoria?"
"Yours," she whispered. "Your slut. Your property. Just another woman in your collection who exists to serve your pleasure."
The words sent a thrill through him—not just the submission itself, but the corruption of it. The Dean of the Academy, a Sovereign 5-Star cultivator with enough political power to influence kingdom-level decisions, reduced to a desperate woman begging for his attention.
"Strip," he commanded.
Victoria's fingers moved to her clothes immediately, that moment of hesitation from their first encounter long gone. She was learning, adjusting, becoming what he molded her to be. Within moments she stood naked before him, her mature body on full display—full breasts, curved hips, the kind of figure that came with age and cultivation preserving peak physical condition.
"On the bed. Face down, ass up."
She obeyed instantly, positioning herself on his bed in the most vulnerable, exposed position possible. Anthonio took a moment to appreciate the view—the Dean of the Royal Academy presenting herself like a bitch in heat, desperate for his touch.
He moved behind her, his hand trailing up her inner thigh. She was already wet, her arousal coating her thighs.
"So eager," he murmured. "Did you touch yourself last night, Victoria? Did you lie in your quarters and finger yourself while thinking about me?"
"Yes," she gasped as his fingers traced her wet slit. "I couldn't help it. I tried to sleep but all I could think about was the last time, how you made me feel, how you stretched my ass and made me come so hard I couldn't think—"
He pushed two fingers inside her roughly, cutting off her words with a moan. "You're addicted, aren't you? Addicted to how I make you feel. How I treat you."
"Yes, god yes—"
"What would the faculty think if they knew?" He pumped his fingers in and out, his other hand coming down on her ass with a sharp slap. "What would your fellow Sovereigns think if they saw their respected colleague like this?"
"I don't care," Victoria moaned, pushing back against his hand. "I don't care anymore. I just need—please, Anthonio, please—"
He withdrew his fingers, ignoring her whimper of loss, and began unfastening his pants. "You have five minutes to make me come with that pretty mouth of yours. If you succeed, I'll fuck you properly. If you fail, I'll leave you here, desperate and empty."
Victoria spun around with cultivator speed, her eyes wild with need. "Yes, master—"
The use of the title made him smile. He hadn't demanded it from her yet, but she was already falling into the same pattern as Selene. Soon all of them would call him master. Soon they'd all understand their place in his world.
Victoria's mouth engulfed his cock with practiced skill, her tongue swirling around the head before taking him deep. For a woman who'd probably never done this before meeting him, she'd learned remarkably quickly. The Dean of the Academy was apparently an excellent student when properly motivated.
He tangled his hand in her hair, not guiding but dominating, making it clear that even in this act she existed for his pleasure. Victoria moaned around his length, the vibrations adding to the sensation, and he felt her hand move between her own legs.
"Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asked sharply.
She froze, her eyes looking up at him pleadingly, but her hand moved away from her dripping pussy. Good. She was learning.
Anthonio let her work, his mind already on the competition ahead even as physical pleasure built. This was just another form of power, another piece of the puzzle. Victoria would protect him from institutional scrutiny. Selene would serve as his shadow. Seraphina would be his public legitimacy once the fake engagement ended. Aria, Cassandra, Elena, Lyanna—each served a purpose, filled a role in the grand design.
And Kael suspected nothing.
The thought pushed him over the edge. He came hard, flooding Victoria's mouth, and she swallowed eagerly, desperately, like it was the most precious thing in the world.
"Good girl," he murmured, pulling her up and pushing her back onto the bed. "Now you get your reward."
He entered her in one smooth thrust, and Victoria cried out, her cultivated body tight and hot around him. Sovereign-level cultivators had stamina that put normal humans to shame, and he used every bit of it now, pounding into her with relentless intensity.
"Thank you," she gasped between thrusts. "Thank you, master, thank you—"
"Who do you belong to?"
"You! I belong to you!"
"Say it properly."
"I belong to Master Anthonio Crimsonhart! I'm his slut, his property, his to use whenever he wants—oh god, yes, right there—"
He felt her pussy clench around him as she came, but he didn't slow down. He fucked her through her orgasm and into another, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises that her cultivation would heal in hours.
From the shadows, he sensed Selene watching, touching herself as she witnessed her master dominating another powerful woman. The thought aroused him further, and he redoubled his efforts.
"Harder," Victoria begged. "Please, harder, use me, break me—"
He complied, his hips slamming against hers with enough force to make the bed shake. The Dean's refined composure was completely gone, replaced by primal need. This was what he loved—taking powerful women and reducing them to their most basic desires, showing them that all their cultivation, all their status, meant nothing compared to his dominance.
Victoria came again, screaming into his pillow to muffle the sound. He followed moments later, emptying himself inside her with a final brutal thrust.
They stayed connected for a moment, both breathing hard. Then he pulled out and stepped back, beginning to clean and redress himself with cultivation techniques.
Victoria lay on the bed, looking thoroughly used, her body trembling with aftershocks. "That was..."
"Necessary," he finished for her. "You needed to be reminded of your place before the competition draws attention to me. You'll need to maintain your professional demeanor, Victoria. No matter what happens, no matter what you see me do, you're the Dean. Act like it."
"Yes, master." She sat up slowly, beginning to gather her clothes. "But after the competition..."
"After the competition, we'll see." He finished adjusting his uniform, looking every bit the composed Academy student again. "Now leave. We both have appearances to maintain."
Victoria dressed quickly and slipped out, pausing at the door. "Anthonio... good luck. Though I suspect you don't need it."
She was gone before he could respond. Selene emerged from the shadows immediately, her eyes dark with arousal.
"Master," she breathed. "That was—"
"Later," he said, though not unkindly. "I know you're desperate, Selene, but I need to focus now. Tonight, after the first round, you can have what you need."
"Yes, master." She bowed deeply, accepting his decision without argument. That was the beauty of a true submissive—they understood that their pleasure came from serving, from waiting, from accepting his will above their own desires.
Alone finally, Anthonio moved to his window and looked out over the Academy grounds. The Grand Arena was visible in the distance, already filling with spectators for the opening rounds. Somewhere down there, Kael was preparing, confident in his divine essences and destined victory.
Enjoy it while it lasts, protagonist, Anthonio thought, crimson lightning crackling faintly around his fingers before he suppressed it. This is my story now. And by the time you realize what's happening, it'll be far too late.
The Shadow Heart pulsed within his core, its ancient consciousness offering approval. The competition begins, young master. Show them a fraction of your true power. Let them see what they want to see—a gifted student with unusual techniques. Save the revelation of what you truly are for when it will have maximum impact.
I know, Anthonio replied mentally. Everything according to plan.
He left his quarters and made his way to the Arena. The bracket assignments would be announced soon, and then the real game would begin.
The Grand Arena had been transformed. Multiple combat platforms floated in the air, suspended by formation arrays that would record and display each fight for the massive crowd. Anthonio stood with hundreds of other competitors as Headmaster Aldric began announcing the matchups.
"First Platform: Lei Thunderfist versus Anthonio Crimsonhart!"
Exactly as I predicted, he thought, watching his opponent step forward. Lei was a mountain of a man, all muscle and confidence, his cultivation radiating the power of Manifestation 7-Star. The crowd murmured—this was already interesting, the "Broken Veins miracle" against one of the Academy's known powerhouses.
They ascended to the first platform via formation arrays. The combat area was fifty meters across, with barrier formations ensuring attacks wouldn't spill over to the audience. Lei cracked his knuckles, lightning of normal blue crackling around his fists.
"Nothing personal, Crimsonhart," Lei said, his voice booming. "But I need to make a statement in the first round. Beating the famous exile will give me momentum."
"I understand," Anthonio replied calmly. "Do your best."
The condescension in his tone made Lei's eyes narrow, but before the larger man could respond, the referee appeared—a Transcendence-level instructor whose role was to ensure fights didn't go too far.
"Competitors ready?" She looked between them. "No killing, no permanent crippling. Victory conditions: surrender, unconsciousness, or removal from the platform. Begin!"
Lei moved immediately, his speed impressive for someone his size. Lightning-enhanced punches came at Anthonio in a devastating combination, each one carrying enough force to shatter stone.
Anthonio dodged the first three with minimal movement, his body flowing like water. The crowd gasped—they'd seen his training sessions, seen him struggle against Transcendence opponents. But this looked effortless.
20% of my true speed, he calculated. Enough to dominate this match, not enough to reveal anything suspicious.
Lei's fourth punch came at his face. Anthonio caught it mid-strike, his hand closing around Lei's fist with casual strength. The larger man's eyes widened in shock.
"Is that your best?" Anthonio asked softly.
Then he moved.
His fist drove into Lei's solar plexus with precisely calculated force—enough to overwhelm the man's defensive cultivation, not enough to cause serious injury. Lei gasped, stumbling back, and Anthonio pressed the advantage.
A sweeping kick took Lei's legs out from under him. Before the larger man could fall, Anthonio's hand shot out, gripping Lei's throat and slamming him down onto the platform with controlled violence. The impact cracked the formation-reinforced stone.
The entire exchange took less than three seconds.
"Yield," Anthonio said calmly, crimson lightning flickering around his free hand in an unspoken threat.
"I... I yield," Lei gasped, and the referee appeared instantly.
"Victory to Anthonio Crimsonhart!"
The crowd erupted. On a platform to his left, Anthonio caught Kael's stunned expression. Even Seraphina looked surprised, though her shock was mixed with something else—pride, and beneath that, arousal. She knew he'd been holding back against her when they sparred.
But she doesn't know how much, Anthonio thought, releasing Lei and helping the man to his feet with a display of good sportsmanship. None of them do.
As he descended from the platform, Anthonio allowed himself a small smile.
The competition had begun. And before it ended, everyone would know his name.
Not as the exiled failure.
Not as the miracle who overcame Broken Veins.
But as something far more dangerous.
END OF CHAPTER 21