NOVEL NEXT Chapter 9: FAÇADE
Eran was in no hurry. He gathered nothing, for he carried little. His steps were unhurried, hands loose at his sides. His gaze was distant, almost vacant, but beneath it all… every detail was recorded. Every sneer. Every name. Every voice.
"HEY. YOU!."
The words cut sharp, forcing silence around them. He turned his head lazily to the side, only to meet the cold glare of Miyu, the silver-haired noble girl who had mocked him earlier. Her chin tilted high, arms folded, her jeweled hair glinting beneath the hall lamps.
"You think you can just sit there smirking while the rest of us work? Hmph. Pathetic." She stepped closer, heels clicking against the marble tiles. "Don't think Selene's little interference will save you again. Tomorrow, when the duels begin, I'll make sure you're dragged to the floor in front of everyone."
A ripple of whispers passed through the hall. Eyes turned. Some leaned closer, hungry for a scene.
Eran's head lowered slightly, shadow brushing over his face. Then his smirk curved. Subtle. Dangerous.
System, he thought, and the response flickered across the corner of his mind.
[System Prompt: Target – Miyu Valerane]
Trait Scan: Pride / Status-Obsessed / Mana Core—Grade D Potential
[+20 Charm point]
[Quest progess... 25%]
His smirk widened a fraction, unseen beneath his lashes. So, you shine in front of others. All bark, all glitter. Hmph… perhaps I can use you to climb a rank faster than I thought.
He raised his eyes back to hers, expression unreadable, only that faint grin tugging at the edge of his mouth.
"You'll regret laughing," Miyu hissed, her voice sharp enough to pierce the air. She waited for a reaction, for him to flinch, to defend.
But Eran only chuckled low under his breath, a single word slipping past his lips—quiet, meant for no one but himself.
"…NEXT."
The word confused her, her brow creasing. But Eran had already turned away, moving down the corridor, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed. Each step carried no rush, yet every motion screamed defiance.
Behind him, Miyu stood frozen, lips parting as if she had been insulted but couldn't understand how. The nobles around her whispered louder..
Eran's grin lingered as he walked. Pawns first. Queens later. One by one. And i bet you wouldn't believe when you start begging for me.
His steps carried him further down the corridor, the laughter and whispers fading into a dull hum behind him. The marble floor reflected the faint glow of the hall lamps, each footfall steady, measured. His smirk softened, folding back into the same distant mask he wore so easily.
It was there, by the turning of the hall, that Selene appeared. her pace slower, deliberate, as if she had been waiting for him.
"Eran," she called softly.
He glanced up, eyes half-lidded, unreadable. "Selene."
She studied him, her expression caught between concern and calculation. "Tomorrow… the duels. How are you planning to face it? It isn't something you can shrug off. You know as well as I do, you barely have a single rank. Not even close to Veylar rank E."
Her tone wasn't cruel, it was steady, almost protective but the weight of her words lingered.
Inside, Eran almost laughed. If only you knew…
The pulse of his hidden core whispered beneath his skin,
[Rank — Up (Rank ll)] Vrynx. Progess....
carefully buried from every probing gaze. But on the surface, he allowed only a faint shrug.
And for a breath, Eran said nothing. His gaze dropped to the polished floor, as though her words pressed him into thought. In truth, his mind already played the answer out: The weaker I look, the less they expect.
He lifted his head, a faint grin breaking across his lips. "That low, hm?"
Selene frowned lightly. "I'm serious, Eran. You can't afford to take this lightly. Tomorrow, every eye will be watching. The Academy doesn't forgive weakness."
"Then let them watch," he replied evenly. "I'll give them exactly what they want to see."
Confusion flickered in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged lightly, his voice casual, smooth. "Help me out. Cover for me. whatever they think I am. But somehow you'll help me."
Selene searched his face, trying to read the intention behind his calm grin. "You want me to shield you? Her voice was light, playful, carrying the warmth of a quiet smile.
"I barely hold a single Rank to duel ," he said, but his grin never fading. "For now… i don't stand a chance either."
Her lips curved into a faint smile, and without a pause she gave a small nod. "Of course. If that's what you want Eran." Her eyes lingered on him, warm with devotion already sworn. And with a teasing smirk, she leaned closer and whispered, "…You owe me."
"Perhaps" he muttered
He tilted his head, smirk lingering. And his thoughts: Then I'll just make sure the light never looks my way.
Selene shook her head with a quiet smile, a soft sigh escaping her lips. In her eyes there was nothing but eagerness, a warmth that was his alone.
The smirk softened as he leaned forward, his presence brushing into hers, deliberate, unhurried. His lips ghosted close until they caught hers in a kiss—slow, controlled, yet charged with an edge he didn't voice.
Selene leaned into him without resistance, her hand brushing lightly against his arm as their mouths lingered together. When they parted, her breath carried something familiar as she smiled towards Eran.
"Tomorrow," he said softly, "play your role well."
The air between them quivered with pleasure and desire even as she turned to leave, her heels clicking away down the hall. Eran lingered a moment longer, running a tongue lightly across his teeth, savoring the way her composure cracked.
Later In the quiet of his small quarters, Eran leaned against the window frame, staring at the faint glow of the academy torches outside. His hands rested casually in his pockets, but his mind worked tirelessly.
Tomorrow. The pairings. The stage. The eyes.
They would all see him as nothing.
And that was exactly what he wanted.
His smirk curled again as he pushed off the window, the weight of tomorrow pressing in but never shaking him. He knew one thing for certain whether it was Miyu, or some other noble who thought him worthless—he'd let them all laugh. While he plays his game intellectually through a façade."
THE NEXT MORNING...
The duel hall buzzed with the restless energy of first-day pride. Nobles laughed too loudly, flashing their crests, while commoners tightened their grips on worn scabbards and whispered nervously. The air smelled of steel and arrogance.
The noise died when the great doors opened.
An elderly man entered first, Professor Girzar. His beard was thick and grayed, his gait slow yet steady, like a mountain that had weathered countless storms. His eyes, however, burned sharp as fire under his heavy brow. He carried a scroll tucked under one arm and a staff tapping with each step.
Behind him followed another figure...
Professor Selene entered.
Every step of hers was deliberate, her presence commanding without effort. She moved to the center of the floor, her cloak brushing the stone, her silver insignia gleaming faintly under the light. Students straightened instinctively, even the proud nobles forced to acknowledge the weight she carried.
A hushed stir rippled through the chamber. Whispers, half admiration, half hunger—moved across the crowd. Selene did not look at them. She simply followed Girzar to the center and took her place at his side, as though the hall itself belonged to her.
Girzar set the staff down with a sharp crack, claiming silence. His voice rolled through the chamber, gravelly but powerful.
"You come here to be measured," he began. "Not by titles. Not by your family's coin. Here, only your grade defines you. And the duels… will carve that truth into the bones of this Academy."
He unrolled the scroll, the parchment trembling slightly from age.
A ripple stirred among the students. Some exchanged smirks, others frowns.
"There are five grades. Five stations you will learn to live and die by. Listen well."
He raised a hand, fingers spreading one by one.
"Grade A: Veythros. The pinnacle. Rare as kings, feared as demons. Few will ever breathe that height."
Several nobles puffed their chests, already imagining their names etched into the highest rank.
"Grade B: Velmeirion. Commanders. Strategists. A station where true authority begins."
Girzar's gaze cut sharply across a row of boys laughing too loudly. They fell into silence.
"Grade C: Venux. Respected. Capable. The sharp edge. The rank of duelists, conquerors, the ones whose names are remembered.
He paused, letting the words linger like a cold wind.
"Grade D: Vrynx'. Not gifted, not grand. But sharp, and dangerous in their own right. Those who survive when others break."
Eran's heart tightened. Girzar's words struck closer than anyone realized. He lowered his gaze, playing the weak, though within he carried the hidden fire of one who already stood in Vrynx'.
"Finally…" Girzar's voice grew heavy.
"Grade E: Veylar. The lowest spark. Weak. Fodder. Ashes soon to scatter."
A noble's laughter rang out. Another joined in. Some of the weaker-born shifted uncomfortably, shame creeping over their faces.
Girzar's staff slammed against the floor with a thunderous crack. "Do not mistake laughter for strength. A Veylar disciplined may surpass a lazy Venux. Grade is not inheritance. It is proven."
Silence followed.
From across the hall, Miyu's eyes locked on Eran. Her gaze was sharp, her lips curled into a knowing smirk. She didn't need words, her stare said everything: You'll be the first to fall.
A faint chuckle rose from her circle of friends, their eyes flicking to Eran like he had already been defeated. The commoner with no flame. The joke of the hall.
Eran let the tension roll past him, his expression unreadable. Inside, his thoughts moved faster than any spoken word.
Veylar. That is what they all see me as. A nobody, too weak to matter. But the truth…
I stand in Vrynx'. Grade D. I already reached it.. equal to all peers here. and none of them know.
Then the moment passed, and Girzar's voice carried the hall again.
"The duels begins. Today, you learn your place."
The hall bristled with whispers, pride, and doubt. Eran said nothing. But in silence, he plays a game… all behind a façade of weakness.