Axel swiped his student card at the scanner and walked off. If memory served him right, the Ravenveil Circle held their meetings in a hidden classroom buried beneath the south wing. A locked basement that had no business existing in a school this polished. Of course, the administration knew about the club, but when Mico Valeine's father was essentially paying for three wings of Atherion, enforcement became more of a suggestion than a rule.
At the far end of the hallway, a staircase curled down into the earth, guarded by a man who looked like he could bench-press 225 kg.
Axel approached confidently.
That confidence cracked the moment the man turned his head.
Pressure rolled off him in waves, pure, oppressive aura. Not flaring, not hostile. Just there. Heavy enough to make Axel's knees buckle involuntarily.
The guard's gaze was flat and unamused. "Name and password."
"Axel Lycan. Password is... 'The darkness that shines through the gold.'"
The man didn't move. "Axel Lycan is not on the list provided."
Axel didn't blink. "Must've been a mistake. She probably forgot to write me down. I mean, how else would I know the password?" His voice stayed smooth, words laced with casual confidence, but inside, he was already calculating backup plans.
The guard remained still. A wall. "Entry denied."
Great.
Axel opened his mouth to push further, however a voice, quiet but sharp, cut in behind him.
"Axel?"
He turned. Crimson eyes met gold.
"Yanin?" His brow lifted slightly. She wasn't supposed to be here. In the book, Yanin Roven refused the Ravenveil Circle. Flat-out rejected them. So, what was she doing walking down this hallway like she belonged?
Her gaze was unreadable. "Did you get an invite too?"
"Yeah," Axel lied effortlessly, shooting a side glance at the guard. "This guy's just being difficult."
"Name and password," the man repeated, now facing her.
"Yanin Roven. The darkness that shines through the gold."
He stepped aside immediately.
Axel took a casual step forward behind her, only to have a beefy arm block his path again.
"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath.
"He's with me," Yanin said flatly.
A pause. Then the guard relented. Axel slipped past with a quick nod of thanks.
"Appreciate it," he muttered.
"Consider it charity," she replied coldly, walking ahead.
"...Childish," he muttered under his breath.
Yanin turned sharply. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Axel replied smoothly, eyes steady. "I said you were stylish."
Their eyes locked. Gold to red. She was the one to break it first, huffing softly and turning away as she quickened her pace. At the end of the hallway, she pushed open a heavy steel door and stepped inside.
Axel followed.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Gone was the sterile stone and enchantment-laced walls of Atherion. This room was built like a noble's private estate study. Velvet curtains swallowed any sound. Warm lighting hovered gently in the air. The furniture was sleek, expensive, and absolutely not regulation. There was even a faint hint of perfume and sweets in the air.
It was silent, but not still. Every person in the room turned to face them. A dozen upperclassmen and a few freshmen, dressed too well for school uniforms. They sat reclined in plush chairs, some nursing tea, others flipping through files. And at the center, standing behind the obsidian table like she owned not just the room but the whole damn building, was Mico Valeine.
Her golden curls gleamed like silk under the warm lights, and she turned around slowly, expression curious, until her gaze landed on him.
"Yanin Roven—" she began pleasantly, but the next words hit like a record scratch. "AXEL?!"
Yanin raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say you had an invite?"
"...I lied. Whoops." Axel gave a shrug, unbothered.
Yanin blinked, then shook her head and walked to a seat without another word.
"Axel Lycan," Mico repeated, voice flat now. "You weren't invited."
"No need to pull out the government name," Axel replied, stepping forward, hands in his hoodie pocket. "I'm here to join."
Gasps. Chuckles. A muffled laugh.
Mico narrowed her eyes slightly. "You barge into a private club meeting, lie to my guard, and expect to just... join?"
"Worked out so far," Axel said, flashing the faintest smile.
Mico stared at him. Long enough for the air to feel heavy again. Then she turned away and tapped her slender finger against the table.
"Sit," she said. "I don't know how you discovered this place, but I'll ask questions later."
Axel took the open seat without hesitation, settling beside a freshman who gave him a brief, wary glance before subtly inching away. Understandable.
He wasn't exactly following protocol, barging into a secret club run by one of the most powerful names in Atherion. He could feel the heat of quiet judgment from nearly every direction.
At the head of the room, Mico Valeine stood, hands resting lightly on the obsidian table. Her voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Everyone here," she began, her tone sharp but composed, "besides Axel, was handpicked by me."
A few people shifted in their chairs. One raised an eyebrow. Another smirked.
"Whether it was for your strength, your family's name, your social reach, or your raw potential. I chose you because I believe you can make a difference."
She paced slowly, each step controlled, deliberate.
"The number of dungeon outbreaks is increasing across the continent. Rogue organizations are popping up with disturbing frequency. And the stock market hasn't looked this bad since 2025, gods help us."
A soft laugh rippled from one corner. Mico didn't smile.
"But we can tip the scales. That's what the Ravenveil Circle was built for. To prepare. To move quietly. To be better."
She paused, then let her gaze sweep across the table—pausing for a second longer on Axel.
"And if you accepted my invitation" her eyes narrowed slightly, "then that means you think you're up for the cause."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Including Axel, I suppose."
The air tensed again, just for a second. But Axel didn't blink. Didn't flinch. He simply leaned back in the plush chair and folded his arms, the picture of calm.