[Flashback – After the Entrance Test]
As Vincent stepped through the final threshold of the test chamber, a chime echoed in his mind.
> [System Notification: Academy Entrance Evaluation Complete.]
Rank: SSS – Supreme Valenciari Bloodline recognized.
Rewards: Issued.
A current of energy surged through his veins—subtle, but potent. It wasn't brute force. It was refinement. Control.
> [Reward 1: Dorm A-01 – Private Quarters in Elite-Class Wing]
[Reward 2: Access Granted – Elite Resources: Training Chambers, Ancient Archives, Restricted Arena]
[Reward 3: Phantom Arsenal (Combat Evaluation Mode – Limited Access)]
His fingers twitched slightly.
A revolver. A dagger. A long-barreled rifle. He could feel them. They weren't physically there—but they responded to his thoughts.
The Phantom Arsenal was real.
Just incomplete.
[Present – Elite Arena, Ardent Academy]
Ten elite students stood inside a private arena—crafted for combat, for bloodline clashes, and for witnessing the next generation of rulers.
Isabel Stroud stood in the center, her presence like an unsheathed blade.
"You were ranked not for ceremony, but for war," she said. "Today, you fight."
The combat matchups appeared on the holographic board behind her:
> Elite Class Trial – Round One
Match 1: Ezra Cain vs Kai Solborne
Match 2: Clara Moretti vs Ryker Jian
Match 3: Reina Seraphine vs Dain Ashworth
Match 4: Vincent Valenciari vs Lucian Graves
The room buzzed with energy. Clara sat forward, her eyes gleaming. Vincent leaned back, calm as always.
Match 1: Ezra Cain vs Kai Solborne
Ezra moved like smoke—his shadows slithered from his arms, slicing through the air like silent assassins.
Kai's electricity sparked bright—but it was wild, untamed. Ezra's shadows curved mid-air and struck like whips.
Within thirty seconds, Kai was down, gasping.
> Winner: Ezra Cain
Match 2: Clara Moretti vs Ryker Jian
Clara exhaled slowly as she stepped into the arena. Her psychic aura shimmered around her like bending glass.
Ryker dashed in—fast, aggressive—but every strike bent around her shields.
Then Clara raised her hand.
BOOM.
A psychic shockwave launched Ryker across the ring like a ragdoll.
> Winner: Clara Moretti
She returned to her seat, flushed and grinning.
"Told you I had some tricks," she whispered to Vincent.
He offered a faint nod. "You're full of surprises."
Match 3: Reina Seraphine vs Dain Ashworth
The moment Reina stepped in, the temperature dropped.
Dain summoned walls of flame, spinning fire into chains—but Reina's ice swept in like an avalanche, freezing the ground solid in an instant.
A lance of ice pierced through Dain's defense. He hit the ground, barely able to speak through frozen breath.
> Winner: Reina Seraphine
Even Clara whispered, "Okay… she's terrifying."
Match 4: Vincent Valenciari vs Lucian Graves
Lucian wore a longcoat stitched with silver emblems. His bloodline summoned bone armor, jagged and brutal, crawling up his skin like a skeletal titan.
Vincent cracked his knuckles.
> [System Notification: Phantom Arsenal – Limited Mode Activated.]
He raised his hand.
A black revolver blinked into existence—sleek, ornate, deadly.
Lucian lunged.
Vincent didn't move. One shot rang out.
BOOM.
Lucian's entire right arm shattered under the impact. Before he could recover, Vincent's second weapon—a long dagger—materialized mid-spin.
It stopped an inch from Lucian's neck.
> Winner: Vincent Valenciari
Silence.
Even Isabel's cold gaze lingered a second longer than usual.
Vincent returned to his seat.
Clara leaned in. "You... summoned weapons mid-fight. That's not a normal ability."
Vincent just smiled. "Neither am I."
Isabel stepped forward again.
"These were your first tests," she said. "From now on, you will train not for rankings... but for survival."
Her eyes swept the class like daggers.
"Dismissed."
The Elite Class filtered out of the arena slowly. Some limped, some were silent, and others—like Reina and Ezra—walked with quiet pride. Clara bounced on her heels beside Vincent, her cheeks still flushed from victory.
"That was insane," she muttered, keeping her voice low. "Ezra fights like a ghost, and Reina? She nearly turned the whole arena into a glacier."
Vincent kept walking, hands in his pockets. "She's even stronger in the later arcs."
Clara blinked. "Later arcs?"
He caught himself.
"Later battles," he corrected. "She's not at her peak yet."
Clara gave him a curious glance, but before she could press further, a low voice cut in behind them.
"You're Valenciari."
Arlen D'Argento.
The silver-haired boy stood just ahead of the Elite Wing's central fountain. A rapier rested at his side, and his piercing gaze didn't blink.
Vincent stopped.
"Problem?" he asked, calm.
"No. Curiosity," Arlen replied. "The old families whispered about the Valenciari bloodline dying out after the War of Dons. I suppose they were wrong."
Clara glanced between them, tension crawling into her spine.
"I don't need their whispers to breathe," Vincent said coolly. "You planning to test me too?"
Arlen gave a ghost of a smile. "No need. I already know how this will end. You're strong. But not untouchable."
He turned and walked off, coat swaying.
Clara waited until he was gone. "That guy gives me the creeps. Cool, powerful, and probably sharpening a sword in his sleep."
Vincent didn't respond. His mind was already spinning.
Arlen was dangerous. Not because of strength—but because he played the long game.
[Later That Night – Dorm A-01]
The dorm room was larger than some noble houses. Glass walls overlooked the academy's glowing lake, while shelves lined with ancient texts flickered with enchanted protection runes.
Vincent sat by the window, a half-unwrapped envelope in hand.
It was from the Archives Department.
> [Authorized Access: Bloodline Evolution Room – Open Tomorrow at Dawn]
[Due to your SSS classification, you have been cleared to explore ancestral awakenings.]
He exhaled slowly.
The deeper layers of the Supreme Valenciari Bloodline were hidden—waiting for the right trigger. Maybe that room would give him a clue.
As he leaned back, his phone vibrated.
Luciano Valenciari – Incoming Call
Vincent answered.
"Figlio mio," his father's voice rasped like gravel. "You've stirred the old snakes. The Academy Board has already contacted the Commission. They're nervous."
"Let them be," Vincent said flatly. "They should be."
Luciano chuckled. "Good. Fear is the first tribute they should offer. But tread carefully. Even monsters die when they're too loud, too early."
"I know," Vincent murmured. "I'll rise at my pace."
A pause.
"Remember your goal," Luciano said. "You are not here to survive. You are here to reclaim everything. The throne. The legacy. The bloodline no one dares speak aloud."
"I haven't forgotten."
The call ended.
Vincent stared at his reflection in the glass—calm eyes, a storm behind them.
The Academy wasn't just a school. It was the proving ground for heirs of power. And he wouldn't just prove himself.
He would remind the world who the Valenciari were.
---
TO BE CONTINUED…