CHAPTER 98: CHAPTER 98 : A GORGEOUS ENCOUNTER

Alex wasn’t running—yet.

But he moved with the kind of urgency that suggested trouble was either behind him or ahead.

His steps were long and confident, swift enough to avoid drawing suspicion, but too fast to be casual.

His coat fluttered behind him, boots clicking against the sleek floors of Zenith Academy’s upper corridor, echoing faintly beneath the tall, arched ceilings.

He wasn’t trying to escape. Not exactly.

He just didn’t want to deal with whatever madness Professor Rick had cooked up involving him.

Unfortunately, peace was a luxury short-lived for him.

A shout broke through the hallway.

"Found him! He’s heading toward the ninth-floor canteen!"

Alex’s head jerked up. "Ah, damn it."

A group of cadets rounded the corner. He recognized them immediately—some of the faces were familiar from his Rune Crafting class. Eight... no, wait... now fourteen?

Instead of bolting, Alex simply stopped.

He stood in place, hands in his pockets, watching as they jogged up and gradually formed a loose circle around him. Nervous tension hung in the air like smoke.

He tilted his head and asked casually, "What do you guys need? I’m kind of busy right now. Come later."

The group exchanged awkward glances. One brave soul stepped forward, barely holding his voice steady.

"Apex Alex, uhh... Professor Rick... he’s gone insane after whatever you showed him. He said if we don’t bring you to him—he’ll fail all of us."

There was a moment of silence.

Alex tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "So... you’re saying this is a hostage situation."

The cadet flinched. "N-No! Not like that! We just... Please come with us! He’s gone completely off the rails! And threatened to fail us."

Alex gave a thoughtful nod, as if seriously considering the request. Then his expression shifted—his usual playful smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, razor-sharp gaze.

"Well, bad luck for you guys," he said quietly. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

The shift in his demeanor was immediate—and terrifying.

Those gathered around him froze. This wasn’t the relaxed, mischievous Alex who cracked jokes.

This was the same Alex they’d seen in the academy entrance exam recordings—the one who had earned the title of Apex.

The same Alex who had dueled the student council president, a mid-Master-rank, and not only held his ground but landed a clean, dangerous blow.

They gulped. No one said a word.

Most took an involuntary step back.

Then, to their dismay, Alex smiled again—one of those knowing, dangerous smiles that said he could read their minds and didn’t like what he saw.

"Stop blocking the hallway," he said, voice low and firm.

And they moved. Instinctively. As if pulled aside by an unseen force.

Alex walked through the gap, slipping past them like a blade between cracks in armor. Just as he was about to disappear around the corner, another voice rang out, crisp and commanding.

"Nobody moves."

The voice rang like a commandment. Alex turned, and his grin widened.

Walking toward him with a confident gait was a familiar figure: Lilia Scott.

"So, you finally came to kneel, huh?" Alex teased.

A vein visibly throbbed on Lilia’s temple. "In your dreams, Alex."

He smirked wider. "Sorry, darling, but you’re not worthy of even appearing in my dreams. And oh—congrats—I called you darling too, which you’re clearly not worthy of."

Nearby cadets snorted. Some tried to stifle their laughter, failing miserably. Lilia’s haughty aura had ruled the class for weeks as Professor Rick’s golden student.

No one had dared to challenge her. But that unspoken rule had just shattered today when Alex came.

Her cheeks flamed red with embarrassment. With a flourish, she pulled out a folded document and raised it in the air.

"See this? This is signed by Professor Rick himself. It says if Cadet Alex harms any of the students present, all of his Consumption Points will be seized. He can even be suspended."

Alex’s smirk vanished.

His face paled.

"What the hell?!" he blurted. "Is that old man insane?! He’s putting my points on the line?!

And did he really sign something ridiculous like that? Is that even a thing?" he muttered.

Lilia smirked. "In this academy, everything is possible."

The cadets now looked at him differently—no longer like a predator, but prey. Their courage, previously hiding behind fear, began to swell.

Alex’s brow twitched. He sighed, then looked in a seemingly random direction and muttered:

’Professor Rick... so you’ve finally come yourself, huh.’

Everyone turned to look. There was... nothing there.

They turned back—and—

"He’s gone!"

"He’s running! CHASE HIM!"

Alex bolted. His body moved like a blur, leaving stunned cadets in his wake. Students in the corridor had only a second to react as he sped past, tossing hair, notebooks, and dignity into the air.

He dashed past the Alchemy Wing, veered sharply at the Advanced Spellcasting Lab, and slid along the polished floors of the Runic Archival Sector.

The Academy’s Central Spire was a grand complex, divided into four sectors: the Knowledge Wing, Combat Wing, Administration Tower, and the Staff-Only Quarters. All interconnected by spiraling walkways, hovering staircases, and teleportation pads restricted to faculty.

Alex wasn’t just running. He was calculating. Every turn was a decision point.

’At a time like this... there’s only one person who can help me... Ms. Vega, my guardian angel.’

He rounded a corner, racing toward the forbidden Staff Section—only for a familiar voice to cut him off.

"Trying to sneak into the teacher’s area? I anticipated that."

It was Lilia Scott, standing dead center in his path, arms folded, smirking like she just checkmated him.

"Curse you and your planning!" Alex growled and pivoted, sprinting in the opposite direction.

Behind him, a pack of cadets gave chase, and his options grew thinner by the second. With no other route left, he stumbled upon a room with massive, ornately carved wooden doors.

The crowd roared closer.

"No time," Alex muttered, yanked the door open—and slipped inside.

---

Lights flooded his vision as the door clicked shut behind him.

The room was vast. In the center sat a grand obsidian table, polished like a mirror. Around it, seven throne-like chairs stood like monuments.

Six were empty.

But the central seat—was not.

A girl sat there, unmoving, like a queen sculpted into stillness. She looked older than him by one or two years, dressed in an academy uniform that was the same as his, but made her radiate authority.

Her hair was a breathtaking cascade of molten gold, and her golden eyes locked onto Alex’s with divine precision.

He froze.

His breath caught.

’Gorgeous,’ his mind whispered. The only word that surfaced through the static.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Alex Dragonheart—the shameless, self-proclaimed god-tier beauty—was stunned speechless.

The girl tilted her head slightly, lips parting like a breeze sliding through wind chimes. Her voice was soft, musical.

"What are you doing here?"

Alex opened his mouth. Tried to speak.

"I... I... I..."

And then nothing. His brain stopped.

For a man who once claimed, ’Even mirrors bow when I pass,’ this was a catastrophic malfunction.

His tongue, usually sharper than most blades, had betrayed him.

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A/N:-

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