Bound sovereign: Reincarnated with the lust system

The duel hall did not settle easily. Though Girzar waved his staff and called for silence, the air remained thick with mutters. Nobles glanced at Eran like he were dirt swept in by the wind, yet none dared.. step too close. The crest had flared strangely when he touched it, almost unstable. Some laughed it off, but others… others stole nervous looks his way and quickly masked them.

Professor Girzar stroked his gray beard. "An anomaly." His voice rasped like stone on stone. "The wall does not lie. If it cannot bind you, boy, then either your mana is unfit or it is… displaced."

The room stirred. "Displaced?" "Nonsense." "He has nothing."

Girzar's staff thudded again. "Enough. The record stands: unmatched. He will remain unpaired until further notice." His eyes flickered over Eran once more, lingering a little too long like the old man sensed a thread others did not.

Then, with a grunt, Girzar turned away.

"Pathetic," Miyu hissed as she passed near Eran, her paired partner smirking at her side. "Without a partner, you'll be slaughtered in the first trial. Maybe then, you'll learn your place."

He tilted his head lazily, not even meeting her gaze, only whispering under his breath, You'll be the first lesson, Miyu. Not me.

The crest dimmed at last, sealing itself against the wall. All pairings complete except his.

Professor Girzar lifted his staff once more. "Hear this. Your pairs are your lifelines. They will be tested. They will be judged. Fail together, and you both fall. Succeed… and you climb. This academy does not nurture the weak—it devours them."

The students murmured agreement, the nobles grinning. VRYNX' alike buzzed with anticipation.

But in the corner, unmatched, Eran only folded his arms, letting the shadows cloak his smirk.

Because he knew something they didn't.

The crest didn't reject him.

It trembled because it recognized him.

And that meant one thing:

This system wasn't theirs to control, it was already his.

From the corner, Selene's steps drew every wandering gaze. Her robe flowed like living velvet, clinging blouse drawing lines that dared young students not to stare. She moved with her head high, silent, yet her presence alone pressed the air heavy.

And when she passed near Eran, her perfume lingered a moment too long. Not an accident.

The mockery quieted instantly.

Eran smirked faintly to himself. So, she's watching too…

The laughter dimmed, swallowed by the weight of her presence. Selene's heels clicked softly against the marble floor, and every noble who had moments ago mocked at Eran, now shifted uneasily in their boots.

"Silence," Girzar barked, slamming his staff down. "You may think this is a game, but it is not. The Academy is no playground for swollen pride." His old eyes swept across the room, sharp enough to cut. "Your grades will define you. Your partner will define you. But mark this, your downfall will also define you. More than any crest or title ever could."

He let the words hang before raising a parchment. "The groups are sealed. You will live with your partner, train with them, and if the fates deem it so… you will fall with them. Dismissed."

The nobles didn't move at once. Some exchanged smug smirks, others stole glances at Eran, sneering openly now that Girzar's gaze turned. A few whispered,

"Unpaired…"

"An omen…"

"Pathetic…"

Eran stepped back, as if shrinking into the shadows, playing the part of the forgotten. But his ears drank in every word, and behind lowered lashes, his eyes burned with silent calculation.

Selene did not leave with the others. She stood still, arms folded beneath the curve of her chest, eyes fixed.. not on the parchment, nor on Girzar, but on him. He could almost feel it—her heartbeat.

She knew Eran wasn't okay.

The nobles trickled out, their robes brushing the marble, voices spilling into the corridor. Laughter, gossip, predictions of who would shine and who would be expelled.

Eran alone remained unpaired.

"Boy."

Girzar's voice cut through the emptying hall.

Eran looked up slowly.

The old professor's staff tapped against the stone as he approached. His beard seemed older than mountains, his robe thick with dust and ink stains, but his eyes burned like coals in a dying fire.

"You touched the crest, and it reacted," Girzar said. "Yet it refused you."

"I… failed, sir." Eran bowed his head. "I am not worthy. A mistake of mana, perhaps. I am weak."

Girzar studied him long, silent moments. Then he leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only Eran could hear.

"The crest does not make mistakes."

Eran felt the words press against him like a blade testing flesh.

But he lowered his eyes again. "Perhaps the crest saw something… broken."

For the first time, Girzar's gaze flicked, just briefly, toward Selene—still standing, still silent. Then back to him.

"You will live without a partner, then," Girzar said aloud, his tone hard once more. "You will eat alone, train alone, bleed alone. Know this: isolation in the Academy is a sentence worse than failure. For no one survives here alone."

He turned, staff striking the stone again. "Dismissed."

Eran bowed and left quietly, but his lips curled faintly once his back was turned.

THAT NIGHT, the nobles gather in their partner dorms—lavish quarters of gold-stitched curtains and mana lamps. Meanwhile, Eran is guided to a near-empty wing: a single small chamber with nothing but a cot, a desk, and a flickering lantern.

Mockery echoes even here. Nobles toast to their new pairings. Miyu laughs too loudly, her voice carrying: "Imagine living unpaired! Not even the walls wanted him!"

And as Eran sits alone, shadows hugging his corner, he whispers to himself:

"Perfect. Let them laugh."

His eyes glint in the lantern's weak flame.

For a while, the silence was complete. Then:

KNOCK!… KNOCK!!.

His head lifted. No one was supposed to come here. The unpaired wing was practically abandoned, reserved for the outcasts and rejects who usually didn't last a month.

The knock came again, softer this time, followed by the faint click of a door handle.

She slipped in without waiting for permission. Robes trailing, scent faint but unmistakable, an earthy perfume laced with something sweeter, something dangerous. Selene.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, finding him instantly. She didn't speak at first. Just leaned back against the closed door, arms folded beneath her curves, head tilting so slightly as she studied him.

"You play the role well," she murmured finally, her voice low enough not to carry through the thin walls. "It isn't over, i know what to do."

Eran didn't rise. He sat still, expression dull, as if even her presence failed to stir him. But his silence was deliberate, baiting her to speak more.

Selene's lips curled in the barest smirk. "You remember our agreement, don't you?"

Only then did he glance up with a smirk. "I remember everything."

Her gaze flicked to the door behind her, ensuring no footsteps lingered outside. Then, pushing off the wood, she crossed the small space between them. The sound of her steps was softer than silk, yet every one seemed to fill the room. She stopped just short of him, close enough that the faint brush of her robe grazed his knee.

"So this is where they've placed you," she whispered, eyes glinting, "but don't bother you have me by your side."

For a heartbeat, their eyes locked, the cold steel of his act pressing against the molten pull of her loyalty. Then, as if remembering her place, she leaned back slightly, softening her tone.

"Rest. Tomorrow decides more than they realize. If you stumble too soon, all of this…" she gestured faintly at the walls, the cot, the shadows "…will have been for nothing."

He let the mask of weariness fall back over his face, lowering his gaze. "And if I fail?"

Selene bent closer, her lips so near his ear he felt the warmth of her breath. "Not on my watch."

The words lingered between them, heavy, before she straightened again. Without another glance, she turned, pulled the door open, and slipped away into the night.

Eran tilted his gaze so slightly, a faint smirk curling at the edge of his lips.

'I've already pulled the strings you can't even see,' he whispered beneath his breath, hiding behind a perfect façade. Only when the faint echo of her footsteps vanished did he lie back against the cot, staring at the lantern flame until his eyes burned.

Tomorrow. The word pulsed in his mind like a heartbeat.

Tomorrow, the final duels begin.