I looked at Volkin. Blank eyes. No expression. No mory of the beating he gave . He was like a dog freshly reset to factory settings.
"Dance," I said.
He danced.
"Eat."
He ate.
"Don’t poop."
He didn’t.
"Nice," I muttered, watching this silver-furred idiot wag his tail in joy. "A loyal E-rank mutt who takes orders like a robot."
But credit where it’s due—even if his brain was fried eggs now, his claws could still rip through C-rank beasts like paper. While I was still learning to aim my shadow spear properly, Volkin had already dismbered a dire bear. With grace.
We spent the next two months in intense training. Volkin hunted and trained beside , and I used my Shadow Army skill to raise an eerie little troop—skeletons, goblins, kobolds, even a lizardman. All E-rank. All mine.
By the ti two moons had passed since my exile, I was ready.
I stood at the gates of Ashborn Academy, the towering institution that trained future heroes and occasionally, monsters like .
I held out my academy registration card and stepped through the gates like I belonged. I didn’t. But that’s the fun part.
I booked a room nearby and imdiately gained access to the academy’s vast library. The written exam was scheduled for the day after tomorrow, and thanks to Ashen’s mories, I already knew most of the questions.
All I needed to do now was review and play smart.
"System," I said, "show stats."
[User Status Panel]
Na: Ashen Crimson
Rank: D
Level: 3 (Kill 20 more beings to reach Level 4)
Physical Strength: D
Mana: SS
Speed: D
Charm: S
Luck: E
Affinity: Shadow, ????, ????, ????, ????
Skills: Shadow Bind, Shadow Bomb, Shadow Creation, Shadow Army
Familiars: Volkin – silver-furred wolf (C-rank combat potential, currently obeying all commands)
With a lazy sigh, I pushed open the heavy library doors. Inside, shelves stretched to the ceiling, and the scent of paper and mana ink hit like nostalgia I’d never earned.
I navigated to a quiet corner and began searching for the books tied to the exam questions Ashen rembered. This was how I’d win—by cheating without being caught.
But peace was overrated. Because sitting nearby was the one guy I didn’t want to see yet.
Eren Whitehound.
He sat like the library had been built for him—posture perfect, uniform crisp, silver hair glowing in the sunlight pouring through the stained-glass windows. His jawline looked carved by divine hands, and his icy blue eyes scanned pages like he already knew their secrets.
This wasn’t just Ashen’s rival. This was the crown prince of the Looner Capital, son of a duke feared across the continent. He wasn’t the strongest in the academy yet—but he was on his way.
Next to him sat his sister, Noora Whitehound. She looked too delicate to be related to Eren, with a slender fra, pale skin that seed to glow under the chandelier light, and silver hair braided over one shoulder. Her lilac eyes darted between books with casual curiosity, but her aura said: one wrong move and I explode the room.
She crossed her legs and leaned back, her robe shifting just enough to reveal black combat gear underneath.
Troublemakers. Both of them.
I ignored them, settled into an empty chair, and cracked open a book.
Rote learning. My secret villain art.
I was half a page in when another presence walked up.
She had long, soft golden hair that danced around her like sunlight made tangible. Her eyes were the calm blue of spring skies, and she wore the academy’s white and gold uniform like it had been designed for her alone.
Aurelia.
Ashen’s old friend. And, in the future, his love interest.
Though in this tiline? Just another person I had to push away.
"It’s nice to et you again, Ashen Crimson," she said, smiling warmly. "It’s been so long."
"It’s just Ashen now," I replied, voice cold enough to make her smile falter for a second.
"Whatever you want," she said, still holding onto that annoying kindness. "But I’ll always be your friend. That hasn’t changed."
"You should reconsider," I muttered. "Being near is a danger. You’ll suffer for it. So keep walking."
She tilted her head and said, "If suffering ans being by your side, I’ll gladly hold on to it."
My brain lagged.
’System, this woman is confessing to a villain in public. Issue a warning before I get infected by emotion.’
But I didn’t let it show.
I opened my mouth to end the conversation and walk away—when another figure stepped into the library.
And my world paused.
Seri Crimson.
My sister.
She hadn’t changed—still walked like she owned every room she entered. Her crimson hair was tied back into a tight braid, her golden eyes glimred with judgnt, and her battle uniform clung to her form like it had been stitched in rage.
Her gaze swept the room—and then landed on .
Of all the people in this cursed place, I hadn’t expected her.
Not this soon.
Not now.
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