"You're just being stupid."
A cold voice sliced through Arav's words like a blade tracing the line of his throat.
Arav jerked, turning sharply. Behind him stood a boy—hands buried in pockets, posture lazy, but eyes sharp with deliberate provocation.
Before Arav could say anything, Emilia snapped:
"Can't you keep yourself quiet, moron?"
Her irritation cracked like a whip—fast, precise, practiced.
The boy stepped forward, lips curled in a polite smile that wasn't polite at all.
"I'm Flinch Doldea… of the Doldean family."
He extended a hand toward Emilia—too casually, almost taunting—like he wanted to see if she'd take it.
Emilia didn't even glance at the hand.
"Shut up."
Her voice was smooth, icy.
"I'm Emilia Greyratt. And don't ruin our day."
Flinch froze, hand hanging mid-air. Humiliation flashed across his face before he covered it with a stiff chuckle.
"My apologies, ma'am. I didn't recognize you."
Then his gaze slid to Arav—sharp, assessing, dismissive.
"But what's he doing here?"
Arav stiffened.
For a moment, it felt like the whole Hall could hear his heartbeat.
Emilia turned her eyes on Flinch.
The temperature dropped.
"Doldeans… looks like your family has grown too comfortable questioning people above your rank."
No yelling.
No anger.
Just aristocratic venom—clean, quiet, and more dangerous than shouting.
Flinch's smirk vanished.
He straightened unconsciously, head lowered.
"Shhh… be quiet."
Emilia's tone was soft—but it hit like a stone hammer.
Flinch didn't speak again.
Didn't even lift his chin.
Arav, caught between tension and awe, thought:
So this is the real power of nobles… frightening.
But I guess I'm lucky.
A small, embarrassed smile escaped him.
---
The Hall Trembles
A sudden shift in the air made everyone turn.
Footsteps echoed—slow, heavy, commanding.
A man entered through the aisle, his cape shimmering gold.
Not silver like the elites.
Not blue or red.
Not even black.
Gold.
Aisha grabbed Arav's sleeve, trembling with excitement.
"Arav! Look there!"
She pointed toward the central pillar.
"That's Battalion Commander Dev! People call him the merciless warrior."
Arav swallowed hard.
"That means… he's the leader of the brigade."
A single thought burned in his mind:
I want to be like him.
The strongest.
Commander Dev Vayleron moved like a walking storm—quiet on the outside, but every step radiating authority thick enough to crush the air.
He reached the front.
Turned.
And when he spoke—
He didn't speak.
He roared.
"I, Dev Vayleron, Commander of the Elites—
pledge that we WILL kill that Mythic Beast…
even if it costs our lives!"
The Hall shook with the force of his voice.
Elites straightened.
Nobles stiffened.
Even the air felt sharper.
Arav's breath caught.
How powerful can someone be…?
Dev raised his hand.
Silence fell instantly—heavy, absolute.
Then—
"LISTEN TO ME—
ALL OF YOU!"
His voice thundered against the pillars.
"We stand here with fear in our hearts—
fear of failure,
fear of regret,
fear of a past none of us chose."
Faces softened.
Wounds resurfaced.
Pride wavered.
"But hear this."
His tone hardened.
"If we turn back now—
our pain wins."
A soldier in the back clenched his fist.
"If we hesitate—
our dreams die."
A noblewoman trembled, lip biting down.
"If we fall—
then let us fall while moving FORWARD.
Never standing still."
The Hall vibrated with the force of his conviction.
"Look beside you."
People glanced sideways.
"Every one of you carries wounds
the world cannot see."
Aisha blinked rapidly, her father flashing in her mind.
Arav felt a sting in his chest.
"But together—
those wounds become strength."
The Hall's energy sharpened—alive, unified.
"So I ask for only one thing:
Not loyalty.
Not blind courage.
But ONE moment of absolute resolve."
Arav felt heat building in his chest.
"One step forward."
A soldier stepped.
"One breath of defiance."
Another raised his chin.
"One decision—
to refuse the fate others wrote for us."
Silence thickened.
Then Dev roared:
"If destiny stands in our way—
WE
WILL
TEAR IT DOWN
OURSELVES!"
The Hall erupted.
Cheers shook the floor.
Cloaks swayed.
Weapons clattered.
Some cried.
Some yelled.
Some simply breathed in determination.
Arav stood frozen—not in fear—
but in awakening.
"I… I want to be an Elite."
His voice trembled with enlightenment.
Emilia snorted.
"First become a soldier, genius."
Arav blushed, face turning pink.
"Troops—MARCH OUT!"
Dev roared, cape flicking behind him as he strode out.
Elite captains followed.
Elite soldiers marched behind them in perfect formation.
It was legendary—
and Arav was watching it all, despite not being from any high family.
On the other side of the Hall,
Kabeer could only peek through a window.
He clenched his jaw.
"Damn him… That traitor.
He's getting all the rights."
His voice cracked with bitter jealousy.
What's going to happen next? What is the fate of elites will they win or face death again?
To be continue: