Beneath the silvery moonlight, just as Alen and Lyra leaned into each other—warmth between them growing—a deep voice cut through the silence.
"Ahem."
They froze. Lyra instinctively summoned a light aura blade, while Alen stepped protectively in front of her. Two shadows had approached, but only one spoke.
Instructor Doren stood with arms folded, his red cloak rippling from residual mana. He had completely suppressed his presence—like a seasoned predator.
Alen's eyes widened. "Uncle…!"
Just behind Doren stood another man, the Northern Dragon's secret shadow protector—Kaien Frostvale, clad in layered silver-blue robes. His hand was already on the hilt of a curved spirit blade, ready to strike.
But before Kaien could move, another voice spoke from a nearby branch.
"Don't be an idiot, Kaien," said Rogue Shadow Kars, Alen's godfather and Crimson Lion's most infamous operative. "You attack him, you'll forget how to fight by tomorrow."
Kaien paused.
"He's just a teacher."
Kars gave a crooked grin. "That teacher once burned a dungeon with his bare fists. Name's Doren Hellhart. General-rank. Crimson Lion. You'd break before his coffee cup did."
Kaien cursed and lowered his guard. "Tch."
Doren raised an eyebrow. "Could we not escalate in the love garden? I'm old. I want peace."
"Why didn't you tell me the young master was attending the Academy?" Kaien asked, staring at Kars.
"Because he asked me not to," Kars replied casually. "Just like your young lady. Both of them want a normal year—before the Tournament of Realms makes their bloodlines public anyway."
Doren nodded, sighing. "Yeah, yeah. The tournament's next year. All the major clans and royal families will attend. No more hiding after that."
He turned to Alen and Lyra.
"Enjoy your anonymity while it lasts, you two."
"You're still calling me 'young master'…" Alen muttered.
"Shut up," Doren grumbled. "I'll see you in class."
---
Duel at Dawn
The next morning, Class 3 - Hybrid Elite was buzzing. The postponed duel between Alen and Mina Dawnspark—the fierce fire mage—was now center stage.
"Ready to lose with dignity?" Mina smirked, her palms ablaze.
Alen chuckled. "You're pretty intense for someone who calls this 'forgiveness.'"
The duel began.
Mina launched crimson fireballs shaped like roses, the flames dancing in beautiful yet deadly spirals. Alen countered with mana-shielded footwork, reinforced punches, and illusion sparks, avoiding direct confrontation to hide his full strength.
He didn't want to reveal the depth of his 6-Star Heart Magic Circle or his Crimson Body Art, which he'd quietly cultivated for years.
Mina smirked. "Stop dodging and fight!"
Alen narrowed his eyes—time to end it. He used a low burst of wind-enhanced movement, closing the gap, then tapped her core with a mana-infused strike.
Mina stumbled back, shocked—but unhurt.
"You win…" she admitted, cheeks flushed. "Barely."
Everyone clapped—but some weren't fooled.
"He's holding back…"
"Just how strong is he really?"
---
Teacher's Reaction: Doren the Softy?
As the match ended, Doren burst through the classroom doors like a man possessed.
"Alen! Are you okay? Water? Juice? Wait—do you want mana milk?!"
"Uncle—stop…" Alen whispered telepathically.
"Sit down before you faint, young master—eh, I mean, student."
The class stared.
"Sir… I'm the one lying flat on the floor," Mina croaked.
Doren looked at her. "Oh. Yeah. You did good. Carry on."
The students whispered furiously.
"That's Doren Hellhart—the Demon Lion?!"
"Why is he treating Alen like a prince?"
But no one dared question it too loudly. Even the academy's king-ranked instructors feared Doren's temper.
---
The Prince's Mistake
Just when the class settled, the ornate door opened. A boy in gleaming armor stepped in, flanked by two aides.
Prince Dazek of the Western Sun Empire—a second-year royal student—strolled in like he owned the academy.
His eyes landed on Lyra.
"You there… the Ice Beauty," he said with arrogant glee. "Become mine. It would be your greatest honor."
A hush fell.
Lyra's gaze turned to Alen, then back to Dazek, disgust on her face. But before she could reply—
CRACK!
Alen's fist collided with Dazek's jaw. The prince flew backwards, crashing into the enchanted wall. His enchanted armor cracked. Blood dripped.
"You'll regret that!" screamed one of the aides. "The Prince's father will declare war on your clan!"
Alen wiped his knuckles clean.
"Good. Let him come. I'll show him what happens when someone touches what's mine."
Doren exhaled. "Well… that escalated."
Kars and Kaien—both watching from the shadows—just grinned.
"That's my boy," Kars said proudly.
"Looks like the engagement is about to get interesting," Kaien added.
---
End of Chapter 10