**Ava's POV**
I stood in the competitor viewing area, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the arena floor where medical staff were still fussing over both fighters. My hands clenched unconsciously, nails digging into my palms hard enough to leave marks.
*That bastard.*
The unknown fighter who'd defeated me—who'd broken through my Salamander's Dragon Blast like it was nothing, who'd forced me to acknowledge a gap in our abilities I'd refused to admit existed—had just revealed himself.
And of course it was *him*.
Riyan. My cousin. My rival. The person I'd spent years convinced was a disgrace to our bloodline.
The fight between him and Raven had been spectacular. No—more than spectacular. It had been the kind of battle that redefined what first-year students should be capable of. Techniques that belonged to veteran hunters, power that made the arena itself tremble, two fighters pushing each other to absolute limits without holding anything back.
When he'd shouted at Raven to stop holding back, when she'd unleashed Corrupted Thunder Art and painted the sky black with her power, I'd felt my blood sing with recognition.
*That's it. That's the competitive fire I remember.*
The clash of their ultimate techniques—heaven and earth, thunder and darkness colliding with enough force to crack protective barriers—had been breathtaking. And when Raven had been sent flying, when that dark figure had launched himself into the sky to catch her with reflexes that shouldn't have been possible...
His mask had shattered.
Revealing those scarlet eyes, that sharp jawline, that tousled black hair I'd seen countless times in childhood.
"Riyan...!" His name had escaped my lips before I could stop it.
My heart was racing. Not with attraction—gods, no. But with pure, undiluted competitive spirit. The urge to fight him again, to test myself against this version of him that had finally—*finally*—reclaimed the strength and pride he'd abandoned years ago.
He'd done it. He'd actually done it. Transformed himself from disgrace back into someone worthy of the title Asura Prince.
And he'd revealed himself at the perfect moment—victorious, holding the Principal's daughter in his arms, his identity unveiled at the peak of triumph. The entire continent would be talking about this for months.
*Show-off,* I thought, but couldn't suppress the grin spreading across my face. *Dramatic bastard. But I have to admit... that was pretty damn cool.*
My battle instincts were screaming at me. I wanted to march down there right now, demand a rematch, test whether I could actually beat him when he wasn't hiding behind a mask and I wasn't underestimating him.
The expression on my face must have been intense—I could feel my features twisted into what Livia once called my "crazy battle freak look." Eyes wide, grin too sharp, the kind of expression that made normal people back away slowly.
But it was perfectly normal to feel this way, wasn't it? This was what rivalry was *supposed* to feel like. This burning desire to compete, to test limits, to prove yourself against someone who pushed you to evolve.
*My rival is back,* I thought with fierce satisfaction. *And now the real competition begins.*
---
**Flashback - The Asura Princess**
I was born into greatness—literally.
As the only daughter of the Asura Emperor and Asura Empress, the sole Asura Princess of the Mairis Family, I'd carried the weight of our bloodline's legacy from my first breath. Pure-blooded Asura were rare—in the entire world, only four of us existed: my father, my mother, my aunt, and myself.
This wasn't just heritage. It was *responsibility*. Every action I took reflected on our entire race, on centuries of tradition and power that couldn't be allowed to fade.
My aunt had married a human—Uncle Cris Descartes. Their union had produced twins: Riyan and Livia. Hybrids, carrying both Asura and human blood in their veins.
Normally, hybrids leaned more heavily toward one parent's bloodline. But Riyan had been different from birth.
He possessed *all* the Asura characteristics—the fire affinity, the distinctive features, the raw potential that marked our race. But he'd also inherited human adaptability and something even rarer: the Dual Energy User trait that let him manipulate both mana and aura.
An anomaly. A perfect fusion of two bloodlines that shouldn't have combined so seamlessly.
My father had been fascinated. Impressed enough to accept Riyan as his godson and grant him the title of Asura Prince—a designation that carried immense weight in our culture.
Livia, meanwhile, had inherited more human traits. Aura instead of mana, ice affinity instead of fire. She'd been given the title of Miss of Mairis Family, but the Asura Prince designation had gone to her brother.
Which made Riyan my godbrother,
my cousin, and—in the way that mattered most to me—my rival.
---
My father had a habit of comparing us. Constantly.
"Ava, your fire control needs work. Riyan managed the advanced form at your age."
"Why can't you maintain focus like Riyan does during meditation?"
"Your cousin completed this training exercise in half the time. What's taking you so long?"
It had been maddening. Every accomplishment I achieved was immediately measured against his. Every technique I mastered was compared to his version. I couldn't escape his shadow no matter how hard I trained.
So naturally, we'd developed an intense rivalry.
Our duels had been legendary among family members. Both of us pushing our limits, neither willing to yield an inch. He'd been stronger more often than not—frustratingly so—but I'd won my share of victories too.
I'd *respected* him. Genuinely respected him as a rival who made me better through competition. Someone who embodied the Asura spirit of never backing down, never accepting weakness.
If anyone deserved the title of Asura Prince, it was Riyan. I'd believed that with absolute certainty.
Until the day his father died.
---
Uncle Cris's death had shattered something in Riyan. The competitive fire that had burned so bright just... went out. Like someone had snuffed a candle, leaving only smoke and the faint smell of what used to be.
He'd stopped training seriously. Stopped pushing himself. Stopped acting like someone who carried the weight of two great families on his shoulders.
Instead, he'd become obsessed with some girl from the Starlight family.
At first, I'd thought it was grief—clinging to anything that felt stable during a chaotic time. But it hadn't stopped. If anything, it had gotten *worse*.
He'd followed her around like a lost puppy. Made increasingly desperate declarations of love. Molded himself into whatever he thought she wanted, abandoning his own identity in the process.
The mockery had started quickly. "Dog-licker." "Simp." Eventually, "King of Dog Lickers"—a title that spread across social circles like a disease, turning the name Riyan Descartes into a punchline.
And I'd watched, horrified and disgusted, as my rival—the person who'd pushed me to be better, who'd embodied Asura pride and strength—degraded himself for scraps of attention from someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.
*Disgrace.* That was the word that kept echoing in my mind. *Disgrace to the Asura bloodline. Shame to the Mairis family. Not worthy of the title Asura Prince.*
My respect had curdled into disdain. I'd stopped seeing him as a rival and started seeing him as... nothing. A disappointment. A cautionary tale about what happened when you abandoned your pride.
I'd even told my father as much, argued that the title should be revoked. He'd refused, insisting there was still hope for Riyan to recover.
I'd thought he was being overly sentimental. That the old man couldn't accept that his godson had become worthless.
Turned out I'd been wrong.
---
When Riyan turned fifteen, something changed.
I'd heard he'd entered the modeling industry—another desperate attempt to impress that Starlight girl, I'd assumed. More pathetic behavior from someone who'd forgotten what dignity meant.
But then his career had *exploded*. Within months, his face was everywhere—advertisements, magazine covers, social media trending lists. And more importantly, his entire demeanor had transformed.
The interviews I'd reluctantly watched showed someone confident, self-possessed, articulate. Someone who spoke about building a career rather than seeking validation. Someone who'd finally remembered what self-respect looked like.
The mockery had faded. The "dog-licker" jokes had been replaced with genuine admiration. People had started talking about his transformation like it was some kind of redemption arc made real.
I'd thought at the time: *This idiot is finally getting some sense.*
But I'd still been skeptical. Modeling was one thing—combat was another. Had he truly reclaimed his strength? Or was this just a different mask, a more sophisticated way of hiding continued weakness?
Then the entrance exam had happened. The mysterious "Unknown" had appeared, shattering records and defeating opponents with techniques that spoke of serious training and genuine skill.
When he'd beaten me—when I'd given everything I had and still fallen short—I'd felt that old competitive fire reignite. Not anger at losing, but *excitement*. Finally, someone who could push me again. Finally, a real challenge.
And now I knew who it had been all along.
---
*Damn him,* I thought, grinning despite myself. *Damn him for making me wait this long. Damn him for that dramatic reveal. And damn him for being good enough to beat me.*
But mostly: *Welcome back, rival. It's been too long.*
Tomorrow, classes would start. Tomorrow, I'd corner him and demand answers about where he'd been training, how he'd developed those techniques, what his plans were for improving further.
And soon—very soon—I'd challenge him to a proper rematch. One where we both knew who we were fighting, where neither of us held anything back.
The Asura Princess versus the Asura Prince. The way it should have been all along.
*Just you wait, Riyan,* I thought, still wearing that battle-crazy grin that made normal people uncomfortable. *I'm going to get so much stronger. And next time we fight, I'm taking you down.*
The rivalry was back.
And I'd never felt more alive.
---
**Author's Note:**
Welcome back, readers! I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into Ava's perspective and her complicated relationship with Riyan. The rivalry between the Asura Princess and Asura Prince is going to be a major focus going forward.
**Quick question for you all:** How do you want to see the Ava-Riyan rivalry develop? Should it stay purely competitive, or should there be hints of something more complicated beneath the surface? Let me know in the comments!
**This Week's Poll:** What kind of training arc would you most like to see next?
A) Riyan learning advanced spear techniques from a master
B) Group training sessions with all the main cast
C) Secret solo training where Riyan pushes his limits
D) Competitive training exercises between rivals
Vote in the comments! The most popular choice will influence the direction of upcoming chapters.
Also, if you're enjoying the story so far, please leave a review and rating! Your feedback helps me understand what's working and what needs improvement. And if you have questions about the characters, plot, or world-building, drop them in the comments—I'll answer what I can without spoiling future developments!
Next week, we'll dive into Academy life properly, explore more character relationships, and start setting up the conflicts that will drive the rest of this arc.
**Weekly Q&A Preview:** Got burning questions about the story, characters, or my writing process? Leave them in the comments and I'll answer a selection in next week's author note!
See you in the next chapter!
*- Your Author*