Once the trials of Eta and Zeta had finished, the esteemed guests had only one word to say:


    "Mediocre. Truly mediocre."


    Duke Borghildr clicked his tongue. “What else do you expect? Even in our time, those two houses were mediocre at the start.”


    Frederick Morari cleared his throat pointedly. “Please refrain from insulting other houses. Need I remind you that Duke Borghildr, your wife, was once a member of Zeta House? And she is currently one of the most terrifying women to ever exist.”


    The guests weren’t the only ones discussing the trials. The students were also whispering among themselves.


    Some participants had resorted to underhanded methods—using others as human shields to save themselves. Those students quickly became the targets of mockery and disapproval.


    “I’d be terrified if I were assigned to a team match with them. What if they sacrifice me to save themselves?” one student muttered to his friend.


    He wasn’t the only one with such concerns.


    After Zeta’s trial ended, the announcers reappeared, their voices carrying through the arena.


    "Well, well, I know that wasn’t enough to keep you on the edge of your seats, but…"


    One of them paused dramatically.


    "We promise, what’s coming next will certainly entertain you."


    The crowd cheered in agreement.


    “Then let’s move on to the next trial! The Trial of Epsilon House!”


    Thunderous applause erupted.


    Unlike the previous trials, Epsilon House had far fewer participants—only around nine or ten—including the Northern Prince and Alya.


    Athena had expected the Northern Prince to use others as shields—just like the cowards in the previous trials. And he did.


    But not in the way she had assumed.


    Instead of using innocent students as shields, he sacrificed his own companions—the ones who had been trying to throw others into harm’s way.


    To the onlookers, his actions seemed selfish. But to Athena’s keen eyes, it looked more like he was discarding deadweight rather than using people as tools.


    He didn’t touch a single student who wasn’t actively harming others.


    He fought alone—without hesitation—against the swarm of hellhounds.


    As for Alya, she lacked the strength to kill many monsters, but her agility kept her alive. She evaded several life-threatening attacks with remarkable speed. With more training and guidance, she could reach great heights.


    But what truly caught the attention of the esteemed guests was the inherent skills used by the Northern Prince.


    Duke Damarius leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Alex, are you seeing this?”


    Alexander hummed in response, his gaze fixed intently on the screen.


    Alfred Leylani spoke next, his expression dark. “At first, I dismissed it as a simple battle. But now… there’s something off. And judging by your expressions, I assume you all noticed it too.”


    Duke Borghildr stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Evan Rodriguez’s inherent skills were ‘Broken Fantasy’ and ‘Never-Ending Nightmare.’ His wife’s bloodline carried summoning and healing abilities. But that boy—his skills are completely different.”


    The others frowned in unison.


    Leylani was the first to ask, “What do you mean? Isn’t it just a mutated version of his parents’ skills?”


    Alexander finally broke his silence, his sharp purple eyes gleaming.


    “No. The skills he used were ‘Guardian’s Blade’ and ‘Immortalization.’”


    Duke Borghildr nodded. “From an outsider’s perspective, they might appear as mutations of ‘Broken Fantasy’ and ‘Ultra Heal.’ But look closer. The first skill, ‘Guardian’s Blade,’ is raw—every strike is overwhelming, unrefined. There’s no rhythm, no predictability.”


    “It’s powerful. Too powerful. If nurtured properly, it would surpass ‘Broken Fantasy,’ which was nothing more than a pretty trick with no real application.”


    Alexander smirked. “And ‘Immortalization’ is not ‘Ultra Heal.’ Look at him—he’s not healing his wounds. His body is simply… indestructible.”


    Duke Damarius inhaled sharply. “Are you saying… that boy isn’t the real Northern Prince?”


    Alexander’s smirk widened, his fingers tapping against the armrest in amusement.


    “What an interesting mess,” he mused. “To raise a shadow in the place of a son…”


    His voice dropped lower, almost taunting. “Tell me, Damarius, what do you think will happen when the real prince comes knocking?”


    The silence that followed was deafening.


    Leylani’s eyes widened. “But how? Why would they go this far?”


    Alexander leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. “Who knows? Only a fool like him would have the audacity to pull something like this. But let’s wait and see—let’s see just how far he plans to take this little game of hide-and-seek.”


    His voice was calm, but the eerie glint in his eyes sent chills down Leylani’s spine.


    Alfred sighed internally. ‘God help us all. Who knows what this psycho is planning now?’


    While the esteemed guests were discussing the possibility of an imposter lurking within the Academy, the students were enjoying the trials—especially now that they were finally seeing a real challenge.


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    "Don’t you think that guy is stronger than the previous years'' Epsilon House students?" one student asked his friend.


    A snort came from behind them.


    "What a shameless guy. Even though he was strong, he still used other students as sacrifices."


    It was none other than Julian.


    Ayden nodded in agreement. “Right? And this is the same guy who lectured that crazy girl about fighting with honour. Truly shameless.”


    Alya also nodded, backing their words.


    Only Athena remained silent.


    Her silence wasn’t unusual—neither Ayden nor Julian thought much of it. But her eyes… her sharp eyes were locked onto her father.


    The slight curve of his lips—the glint in his eyes—told her all she needed to know.


    He found something interesting.


    A smirk formed on her lips as well.


    Once the telecast ended, cheers erupted across the arena.


    “I hope you all enjoyed that! But my dear friends, it doesn’t end here. We still have two more trials to go!”


    The other announcer chuckled. “Aaah, I’m getting excited! You know, every year it just gets more thrilling.”


    The first announcer grinned. “I know we’re not the only ones feeling this way. So—are you ready to witness the power of this year’s Delta House?”


    Hearing that their trial was next, Ayden practically exploded with excitement.


    He grabbed Julian’s hands and shook him violently.


    “Brother! We’re next! Woohoo!!”


    Julian groaned, trying to keep himself steady.


    Alexander, who had yet to see any of the three in the previous trials, had already assumed that they would be in a higher-level challenge.


    Watching Ayden’s unfiltered joy only confirmed it.


    The First Prince of Arcane couldn’t help but smile—not his usual sharp, knowing smirk, but a smile full of affection.


    “It’s amazing.”


    Duke Damarius glanced at his usually hard-to-please friend, amused.


    “What is?”


    Alexander’s purple eyes remained locked on the beaming boy below.


    “That the son of Zelus—that infuriating man—is so innocent and lovable.” He chuckled lightly. “Every time I see him with Agatha, I swear it feels like he’s also our son.”


    Damarius smirked. “You wish he were your son?”


    Alexander’s smile didn’t waver as he responded.


    “To shine— truly shine —even in the filthiest of swamps is a gift given only to those born of infinite love.


    One day, that child will stand in the light, free from the filth and dirt he was forced to grow up in.”


    Damarius exhaled deeply. He means it.


    He leaned back in his seat and shook his head with a knowing smirk. “Haah. Only you would dare to call your own brother and stepmother ‘filth’ and ‘dirt.’”


    Then he chuckled.


    “And what’s more astonishing? You’d say it right to their faces—without even blinking.”


    Leylani sighed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”


    The moment the Delta House trials started, the arena fell silent in anticipation.


    And then— they watched.


    It astonished them.


    That seemingly fragile boy—the one who carried himself with elegance and grace—was an entirely different person on the battlefield.


    Sir Frederick Morari was practically bursting with pride, his eyes gleaming as he watched his son outperform what he had done at that age.


    Duke Borghildr, however, couldn''t resist a little teasing.


    "Fred, please don’t cry—it’s embarrassing."


    Frederick sniffled dramatically.


    "It’s just so wonderful to watch your kid do better than you did at that age.”


    The other guests nodded in agreement.


    But it wasn’t just the adults who were proud.


    Athena sat silently, watching the screens with an expressionless face—but inside, she was proud.


    Her best friend and little brother had faced enemies far too powerful for them. And yet, they fought bravely.


    It hadn’t been pleasant to watch them suffer at the end—but seeing both boys sitting beside her safe and unharmed was more than enough relief for her.


    Both Ayden and Julian were now looking toward their respective parents, their eyes subtly seeking approval.


    And when Prince Alexander and Sir Morari smiled at them with pride, they both visibly lit up—their faces beaming with pure joy.


    Athena chuckled softly and ruffled Ayden’s hair.


    “Dad is happy, you know. How does it feel?”


    Ayden’s eyes sparkled as he grinned up at her.


    “Did I do well?”


    Athena let out a small laugh and shook her head.


    “Of course you did.”


    The contrast was almost shocking—the sweet, smiling boy sitting beside her was the same one who had slaughtered his enemies without hesitation.


    Some of the students nearby had begun whispering amongst themselves, looking at them with awe—some even considering approaching.


    But before any of them could take a step closer, Ayden’s usual warmth vanished.


    His olive green eyes turned cold and indifferent.


    ‘My smiles and laughter are for my family and friends—not for you pests.’


    They got the message.


    But unlike Ayden, who was shutting people out, Julian was basking in the attention.


    ‘This is nice~’


    He smirked as he heard the murmurs of admiration coming from the students behind him.


    “Wow! That was amazing.”


    The anchor’s voice rang through the arena with genuine awe.


    “Indeed,” the second announcer agreed. “I was gripping my seat, waiting to see what would happen next.”


    Then, with a chuckle, he turned to the crowd.


    “But my dear friends, if the Delta trials were this exhilarating…


    Can you even imagine the excitement we’ll feel watching the Alpha trials?”


    The arena gasped.


    The gap of silence that followed was soon filled with murmurs of shock and anticipation.


    The announcers let out a chuckle in unison.


    “Yes, you heard that right.”


    “For the first time in history, we are going to witness the trials of the Alpha House.”


    The entire arena erupted into chaos.


    Alpha trials?!


    Every year, students were aware that there was an Alpha House, but never before had its trials been telecasted.


    Most students didn’t even know what kind of trials the Alpha House had to go through!


    While the students were in shock, the esteemed guests were not.


    They already knew who had passed the Alpha Trial.


    And Alexander?


    He was smirking.


    Smugly.


    He leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes glinting with undisguised arrogance.


    And then—he looked at his friends.


    “Earlier, you all saw how my youngest performed.”


    He smirked wider.


    “Now watch how my eldest performs.”


    Duke Borghildr let out a long, suffering sigh.


    He was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to punch a certain First Prince in the face just to wipe that insufferable smirk off of it.


    “Smug bastard.”


    But before he could make a snarky remark, the telecast began.


    The entire arena held its breath.


    No one moved.


    No one spoke.


    As if they were afraid—


    That if they breathed—


    The moment would vanish.