CHAPTER 49: ELENA VONCREST

Chapter 49

Etherlight School of Awakeners – Training Grounds

The sharp thwack of wooden swords echoed through the dusty arena, each impact sending faint vibrations through the air.

Ezra’s blade moved so fast it blurred—precise, measured, merciless.

Xavier barely twisted out of the way, but a sharp sting split his cheek. A thin bead of crimson slid down his skin.

Ezra didn’t slow. His eyes stayed locked on his opponent, unblinking, assessing.

Xavier exhaled sharply, mana flaring into the wooden sword in his grip. His stance dropped—low, coiled—before he lunged forward. His feet barely skimmed the ground, the sudden acceleration closing the gap in a heartbeat.

CLANG!

Ezra pivoted and caught the strike with steel-like precision, his block perfect, his expression calm... almost too calm.

Then—Xavier vanished.

Ezra’s gaze flicked toward the empty space. "...Afterimage," he murmured, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

A cold edge pressed against the back of his neck.

"Got y—"

SMACK! Ezra’s hand snapped up and chopped Xavier’s wrist with surgical accuracy. The sword tumbled away.

Before Xavier could recover—THUD!—Ezra’s heel slammed into his chest, sending him staggering back and crashing into the dirt.

From the sidelines, Dravis, lounging cross-legged beside Renji, called out, "Oi, that was cheating."

Ezra adjusted his grip on the sword, his voice calm as still water. "I didn’t use mana. Exactly as we agreed."

He set the wooden blade aside, walked toward a bench, and picked up his water bottle. Unhurried, he drank.

One Week Later

Xavier had officially become Ezra’s subordinate. His younger sister—whose studies had been cut short due to illness—was now enrolled in school, courtesy of Ezra. In the past week, Xavier had almost completely recovered from his injuries.

Ezra had begun training him personally, every single day. The promise of a salary—five thousand gold per month—sealed the arrangement. It was the kind of pay an assistant professor or low-tier government officer could only dream of.

Ezra could afford it. He had over a hundred thousand gold sitting in his account. But he wanted more—and he had already found a solution.

Renji raised a lazy hand from where he was lying on the ground. "Still not answering why I’m here."

In Ezra’s mind: You’re the source of my money.

Out loud, he turned slightly, wearing that polite, unreadable smile. "Didn’t you say you wanted to be strong?"

Renji groaned. "Not like this. The past four days, you’ve been experimenting with new forms of torture."

Xavier, still catching his breath, spoke without looking up. "It’s called training, Renji."

Renji flopped onto his back. "It’s called lawsuit material, Xavier."

Ezra glanced toward Dravis, who was leaning against a pillar. "Where are your dear friends today?"

Dravis smirked. "Unlike us, they have girlfriends."

Ezra’s smile didn’t falter. "...Interesting."

Inside: I hope you choke on air.

Dravis, catching the faint shift in tone, chuckled. "You could have one too. Plenty of girls like you."

Ezra’s reply was as smooth as glass. "I’m aware. I don’t return the sentiment."

Renji sat up. "Don’t count me in your single club. I have a girlfriend."

Dravis and Xavier, without glancing at each other, said in unison, "We’re not virgins."

Renji leaned forward with a grin. "So you’ve already... you know?"

Dravis rolled his eyes. "Believe what you want."

Renji’s gaze slid to Ezra, his grin sharpening. "And you?"

Ezra didn’t blink. "Of course."

Dravis gave an approving nod. "Expected. Someone with your face wouldn’t be... inexperienced."

Then Dravis clapped his hands together. "Alright, let’s hit the club. See if we can hook up with someone."

Renji perked up. "I’ll call my girlfriend—she can bring friends."

Xavier shrugged. "I’m in."

Ezra shook his head. "I’ll train."

Renji hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Ezra, life isn’t just about training and survival. You need fun too."

Ezra’s polite smile returned. "...Is that what you call it?"

Renji laughed. "Exactly."

Ezra sighed, removed Renji’s arm, and gave a small nod. "Fine."

Dravis pushed off the pillar. "No need to leave campus. The school has its own club."

Renji blinked. "Wait, our school has a club?"

Dravis grinned. "Yep. Just bring your own points."

Ezra muttered under his breath, "Ah. The pay-to-win lifestyle."

Renji laughed. "And we’re going to abuse it."

Xavier jabbed a finger at him. "I’ll abuse you if you keep talking."

Renji winked. "Promises, promises."

Ezra had the sinking feeling this was going to be his worst decision in weeks.

———————-

Etherlight School – Campus Café

Daelen sat at a corner table, chatting quietly with a woman whose presence turned heads without effort.

She had long, flowing black hair that shimmered like midnight silk, framing a face both beautiful and untouchably refined. Her sharp, jet-black eyes carried a quiet authority, the kind that could make a person hesitate before meeting her gaze. Dressed in sleek black with a tailored blazer draped over her shoulders, she radiated an air of regal sophistication. A pair of silver-black earrings caught the café’s soft light with each movement.

"Elena," Daelen said, frowning slightly, "don’t smoke in here. It’s not allowed."

She gave a faint smile. "My bad." With a graceful motion, she put the cigarette away.

This was Elena Voncrest—the heir to the Voncrest family, a Rank 5 awakened who had already formed an A-rank core.

"Well," she said, her tone warm yet poised, "seeing you’re fine is a relief. Father was very worried." Then her lips curved into a small smile. "Good work, by the way."

"Yeah, yeah," Daelen muttered. "You’re too worried about me, sis."

She reached out to ruffle his hair, but before she could, Daelen’s phone buzzed.

He answered. "Yeah, Dravis?"

"Hey, we’re going to the club. You free?" Dravis’s voice crackled through.

Daelen leaned back in his chair. "Club, huh? I should ask Lyria first."

"Alright," Dravis replied. "Marcus isn’t coming—he’s on a date somewhere."

Daelen smirked. "Good for him. I’ll message you. Bye." He hung up.

Elena tilted her head. "You’re going to the club?"

Daelen hesitated. "...I am."

She tapped a finger against her chin. "I’ll come with you. Let me meet your dear friends."

Daelen sighed but nodded. "Alright."

————————

8:00 PM – Blue House Dormitory, Ezra’s Room

The faint click of a watch clasp echoed in the quiet room as Ezra adjusted his cuff.

From the other side of the room, where he was buttoning his shirt, Xavier spoke casually, "My Lord, when are we going to Karethport? You said it’s in the south, right?"

Ezra glanced at him in the mirror, his tone even. "After two months. It’s not the time yet."

Xavier nodded and went back to fixing his collar.

Ezra slipped on a black high-collar jacket tailored to perfection, its subtle silver accents catching the warm lamplight. Underneath, he wore a fitted charcoal shirt that traced the lines of his frame without being loud. His tattoos—inked patterns running along his right hand, up his forearm, and faintly along his neck—peeked through with deliberate precision, the kind of detail that looked unplanned but was anything but. Slim black trousers and polished boots completed the look, giving him the air of someone who could pass for either a refined noble or a man who’d break your arm in an alley.

Xavier wasn’t left behind in style. He wore a dark navy jacket over a crisp white shirt, the top button left open, paired with fitted black pants and ankle boots. His look was cleaner, more restrained—yet still sharp enough to match Ezra without stealing the spotlight.

They left the Blue House dorm together, stepping into the cool night air. Streetlamps lit the stone-paved path as they made their way toward the station.

⸻

In Front of the Club – 8:45 PM

The club loomed ahead, a three-story building of dark glass and neon strips that pulsed faintly with the beat of the music inside. The wide entrance was framed with gold-lit archways, and people drifted in and out in a constant flow, their chatter blending with the distant thrum of bass.

Dravis and Renji were already waiting by the steps. Beside Renji stood a brunette with soft waves of hair, dressed in a black skirt and a daring transparent crop top layered over a laced bra. She was the kind of woman who didn’t mind being noticed—and tonight, she clearly was.

Ezra and Xavier approached. Ezra’s greeting was polite, his voice smooth. "Good evening."

The brunette’s lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. She just stared—like the rest of the girls drifting in and out of the club, whose eyes lingered on Ezra a second too long.

Renji, catching the way his girlfriend was looking, gave her a discreet nudge with his elbow before saying, "Ezra, meet her. She’s my girlfriend."

She blinked herself out of her trance and stepped forward. "Hello... I’m—" She hesitated, then smiled faintly. "I didn’t believe it at first, but you’re really close to him."

Ezra gave a courteous nod. "Please don’t talk like that. We’re in the same class, after all. Anyway—should we head in?"

Renji grinned. "Fine by me."

Dravis smirked. "Not yet. I’ve called someone. They should be here any—ah, there."

Ezra turned his head—and spotted Daelen approaching with Lyria at his side. But walking with them was another figure.

A woman with long, flowing black hair that gleamed like obsidian under the streetlights. Her sharp black eyes scanned the crowd with quiet authority, her presence cutting through the noise like a blade.

Dravis waved them over. "Hey, Daelen, Lyria. And... she is?"

Daelen stepped closer. "My sister—Elena Voncrest."

Renji’s brows rose. "Elena Voncrest? You graduated at the top of your class here, didn’t you? Many of the teachers still use your name as an example in lectures. It’s an honor to meet you."

Elena gave a faint, regal smile. "Likewise." She returned Renji’s greeting politely—then her gaze shifted.

Ezra was watching her.

It wasn’t the casual glance of a stranger sizing someone up—it was deliberate, unhurried, like he was studying the details no one else would notice.

And when their eyes met, something in the air seemed to still.

Her sharp black gaze, usually enough to make most people avert their eyes, found no flinch in his. Instead, his stare was calm—too calm—like deep water that might hide something dangerous beneath the surface.

For a brief moment, neither moved, neither spoke. The noise of the street, the lights of the club, even the voices of their companions—all of it felt muted.

It was only when Dravis cleared his throat and Lyria nudged Daelen that Elena blinked, her expression unreadable once more. But as she turned away, the faintest curve touched her lips—whether in amusement or interest, only she knew.

Ezra, for his part, simply adjusted his cuff and looked toward the entrance. "Shall we?"