Harem Stealer

VOL II: The Birth of the Third Abomination

( Note to Readers:   To fully understand the story, please read Volume 1: The Reincarnator  first. It’s short, fast-paced, and sets up all the key characters, powers, and rivalries. Volume 2 picks up right where it left off. )

Previously…..

Noah Weaverheart trained for three years and rose to B-rank, mastering ice and lightning. Before entering Apex Academy, he sparred with his SS-rank mother and awakened four powerful Auras—Ice and Lightning, Samsara, Trickster, and Ruler—later gaining the Aura of Limitlessness.

Meanwhile, other elite heirs prepared to join the Academy, including Elijah, the Chosen One, who received a divine quest: Kill Noah Weaverheart.

….

Chapter 26: The Road to the Academy

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the estate, illuminating the grand purple carriage that would take Noah to the Academy.

He stood before it, hands in his pockets, his face calm yet unreadable.

Behind him, his mother, Selene, along with an assembly of knights, servants, and mages, all stood with pride in their eyes.

And… there was an unexpected guest.

A silver cat with piercing purple eyes perched on Selene's shoulder.

Noah's brows twitched. His gaze flicked to Neko, the black-furred cat sitting smugly on his head.

"…Am I meeting your mother?" he muttered.

Neko, in response, flicked her tail, feigning indifference.

Selene stepped forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

Her voice trembled. Just a little.

"I'll miss you, my baby," she murmured, pressing her cheek against his. "If you encounter any problems there, just let me know. I'll come and freeze them all."

Noah's expression softened.

His mother… was too cute.

Three years. In those three years, he had grown to love her deeply. And for that he would protect her, no matter what.

He smiled.

"You're worrying over nothing, Mother," he said, smugly. "Who would dare to harm the beloved son of Selene Weaverheart, the Witch of Eternal Cold?"

Selene's sorrow vanished. Her smirk returned, full of pride.

"Of course, of course," she said, puffing her chest. "No one would dare."

Then, her gaze shifted to the silver cat.

"Luminara, you insisted on coming. Are you not going to say something? Or maybe a word to that rebellious daughter of yours?"

The silver cat—Luminara—clicked her tongue.

A very human action. Eerie.

"I only came to see him off" she said coolly. "Not to talk."

Then, her violet gaze locked onto Neko's.

A deep chill filled the air.

Her voice was cold. "You better behave yourself, Neko. Do not cause unnecessary trouble for Noah."

Neko scoffed. "I am not a child, Mother."

The two continued bickering, their cold, sharp words carrying a level of tension only mothers and daughters could manage.

But suddenly—

A shadow shifted.

A woman stepped forward.

She had raven-black hair, piercing red eyes, and a presence so lightless that it seemed to devour the surrounding light.

For the first time, Noah saw her face to face.

Selene's shadow.

Sari.

She gave him a deep bow. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter."

Then—she was gone, disappearing into Selene's shadow as if she had never been there.

Selene smiled. "She's shy."

Noah shook his head.

At last, he stepped into the carriage.

But before the door shut, he turned back.

His silver eyes gleamed with a mad glint.

"The entrance test will be recorded," he said. "Everyone can watch from everywhere."

He smirked.

"Look at your son, Mother."

His grin widened.

"I will not hold anything back."

"I will go all out."

The carriage doors closed.

The wheels began to turn.

Noah Weaverheart had departed.

…

In front of the golden palace gates, a golden carriage stood ready.

Princess Sophie Castria was about to step inside when—

Her father's voice stopped her.

"Do not forget, Sophie."

She turned.

Rome Castria—the Emperor—stood on the palace steps, hands behind his back, expression cold.

"You are going there to win over Elijah," he said. "And discard Noah."

His voice hardened.

"Do you understand me?"

Sophie stood silent.

Seconds passed.

Then, at last, she spoke.

"…Father," she said slowly, her voice almost hesitant. "What if I don't want to be used as a mere political tool to secure the Chosen One?"

Her hands clenched.

"What if I want to compete for the throne?"

Silence.

Rome Castria stared at her.

Then—he laughed.

Not warm. Not amused.

Cold. Contemptuous.

"Don't spout nonsense," he said, voice sharp as steel. "This Empire has been ruled by men since its beginning."

He turned.

"I will not be the Emperor who changes that tradition."

Then—he was gone.

Sophie stood there, staring at the empty space where her father had been.

A presence flickered beside her.

A crackle of lightning.

A woman appeared.

Emily.

She smiled softly. "Now, do you have your answer?"

Sophie exhaled. Slowly.

Then, she stepped into the carriage.

Her expression unreadable.

"No mercy, then."

The carriage doors shut.

And she, too, left for the Academy.

Emily stood there, watching her go.

She smiled.

The game had begun.

…

The Academy was not just for humans.

From every race, every corner of the world, the most talented had begun their journey. The Elves. The Beastmen. The Dwarves. The Demons. Even hidden beings unknown to all.  

All of them moved.

Why?

Because those with power over Fate and Destiny had sensed it.

Those who could see Prophecy had glimpsed it.

This generation—

Would be Glorious.

And none of them wanted to be left behind.

…

The Academy existed within a realm of its own.

A dimension created by its Dean.

However—

The Entrance Test would not take place there.

No. It would be held in the center of the world.

A vast, colossal arena, constructed purely for the purpose of testing.

Spectators gathered. Some in person.

Some through spatial transmission magic, allowing them to watch from the comfort of their homes.

The arena was already chaotic.

Hundreds of young warriors, nobles, and mages from different races stood together—some forming alliances, others standing alone, a few already picking fights.

Then, the first storm arrived.

A floating carriage, drawn by winged horses, descended from the sky.

Emblazoned on it—the crest of the Great Tree.

The Elven Royal Family.

As the carriage landed, she stepped out.

A tall, dark-skinned elf, silver-haired, pink-eyed. A beauty so ethereal that the moment she appeared, the entire arena fell silent.

Aphasia Elfborn.

Princess of the Elven Domain. Sole heir to the throne.

She walked past the crowd without looking at anyone—like they weren't even worth noticing. But the other elfs around her bowed at her sight.  

And right after—

A roar.

Two golden-haired lion beastmen leaped from a massive war carriage, their golden eyes shining like fire.

Ray and Domy Valdor.

The twin beasts of the Valdor Royal Family.

One step from them alone made the weaker ones in the crowd stagger.

Then—

A short, unassuming figure walked forward.

A dwarf. No beard, no towering muscles, no weapons on his back.

Just a short dwarf. He looks like a boy.

Yet something about him—his calm gaze, the way he moved without hesitation—made even the strongest hesitate.

Ren Smith, The successor of the Only Legendary Blacksmith.

And then, a shadow flickered.

No carriage. No grand entrance.

Just a lazy-looking young man walking out of nowhere, his hands in his pockets, his expression dull.

His black hair covered part of his face, his dark eyes uninterested.

It was almost laughable—how unbothered he seemed.

Yet, something about his presence made people avoid looking at him directly.

Eric Shadowbound, Heir to the Shadowbound Family.

His entrance wasn't grand. It wasn't loud.

But somehow, it was the most unnerving.

And then came a deep laugh, a boisterous laugh even filled with battle intents.

 Rouge Bloodheart, heir of the Bloodhearts had arrived.  

Then—

The red haired princess of the Empire arrived.

The royal emblem of Castria gleamed as she stepped down, red hair flowing, red eyes sharp with crimson lightning flickering inside.  

Sophie Castria.

The Empire's princess.

And behind her—

Two figures.

The Stoneheart Twins.

Aiden and Patricia.

Their gazes swept the arena like conquerors.

And then, at last—

The one everyone had been waiting for.

A golden light shimmered as his carriage arrived.

The sigil of the Church proudly displayed.

A figure stepped out.

Tall. Imposing. Radiating power.

His golden hair glowed under the sun, his golden eyes seemed to illuminate the world.  

His presence alone shifted the air. Looking like an Angel descended from the heavens.  

The Blessed One. The Chosen One. The Goddess's Favorite.  

Elijah Stoneheart.

And at his side, dressed in pure white robes, was the Saintess, Elizabeth.

The two of them stood there.

Watching. Observing.

But even then—

Even with all the monsters gathered—

There was still one more.

A purple carriage arrived silently.

No divine light. No loud entrance.

Just pure, chilling elegance.

The sigil of Weaverheart.

The doors opened.

And out stepped—

Noah Weaverheart.

The Spoiled One. The Loved Child of the Duchess of Cold.

No aura. No pressure. No grand display.

Yet the moment his feet touched the ground.

The atmosphere changed.

Elijah's gaze immediately turned to him.

And for the first time, Elijah and Noah met each other.  

Chapter 27: Damon

Elijah—no, not just Elijah, but every genius in the arena—stared at Noah.

Not because his aura was overwhelming. Not because of his beauty.

But because he looked too ordinary.

No power emanated from him. No pressure, no presence—just a simple, unremarkable young man.

The crowd, the mundane, dismissed him outright.

But the geniuses?

Their expressions hardened. Their instincts screamed.

This one is dangerous.

The thought echoed in every mind, like a silent whisper crawling through their bones.

Elijah, however, was unfazed. He had expected this. His quest had already warned him—Noah was a threat.

Still, not everyone cared.

Eric, for example, yawned. "Let's just get this stupid test over with. I need a nap."

Meanwhile, Sophie smiled softly and stepped toward Noah.

For years, Noah had cultivated their bond—letters, kind words, rare gifts, even ice lotuses. Not just because he needed to, but because he wanted to.

He had taken a liking to this wife of his.

Sophie's voice was warm. "It's been a long time, Noah."

Noah, with Neko curled atop his head, grinned mischievously.

And then—he closed the distance in an instant and pulled her into his arms.

WELP!

A startled sound escaped Sophie's lips. Whispers erupted all around them.

She hissed under her breath, "Have you no shame? Everyone's watching."

Noah chuckled, unbothered. "Isn't this normal? Husband and wife, reuniting after three years?"

"You are the one being cold."

Sophie's lips twitched. She knew him too well—Noah never did anything without a purpose.

And indeed—

"Oh my, oh my…"

Elizabeth barely concealed her amusement as she glanced at Elijah beside her.

His face remained unreadable. Emotionless.

But Elizabeth knew him.

The air around him had shifted. Warmer. Just slightly.

He's pissed.

Because when Elijah set his sights on something—or someone—he considered it his.

Sophie was meant for him. The Emperor himself had confirmed it. Their engagement was only delayed due to certain… complications.

And yet, here she was. Wrapped in Noah's arms.

But Elijah didn't move. He just watched.

Suddenly, beside Noah and Sophie—without a sound—a figure appeared.

Blood-red hair. A wicked grin.

Rouge Bloodheart.

Her voice dripped with amusement. "Didn't know the princess was like this. Cheating on your boyfriend, The Chosen One?"

Then, she turned to Noah, stepping closer—so close their breaths mingled.

Her grin widened.

"I knew you were special. You even were to steal from the chosen one."

Her voice dropped to a husky whisper.

"Even now, my instincts are screaming at me. They're telling me to run. To not even get near you."

Noah's eyes gleamed. "Then why are you doing the exact opposite?"

Her body shivered. Not from fear.

But from exhilaration.

Her lips curled into something almost inhuman. Teeth bared.

"Exactly because my instincts are screaming."

Her voice was hungry.

"Let's fight."

With a flick of her wrist, blood surged around her, coalescing into a massive war hammer—twice her size. She raised it high, ready to strike.

And then—

"Stop."

A voice.

Deep. Heavy. Crushing.

Everything froze.

The war hammer vanished.

Even Elijah. Even Noah. Stopped.

A shadow loomed above them.

High in the sky—a man stood, weightless.

Black skin, white dreadlocks, eyes as dark as the abyss. A sword hung lazily at his waist.

But his gaze.

His gaze crushed them.

Like the weight of the heavens pressing down.

When he spoke, it wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.

"I am Damon. Overseer of this year's entrance exam."

His stare swept over them.

"You will not misbehave."

His tone carried no room for argument.

"I don't have time for this."

His eyes narrowed.

"Anyone who displeases me—dies. Instantly."

A pause.

"Do you understand?"

Before anyone could answer—

"No. Shut up. I don't want to hear your responses."

Snap.

He clicked his fingers.

Magic circles erupted beneath their feet, glowing violently.

Damon's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"The first test begins. Now."

And in the next breath—

They were gone.

…

Damon looked down at the remaining contracted beasts. His gaze lingered on Neko.

"You stay here. Watch your dear masters."

Then, his eyes landed on Ester—who had returned to her human form.

"Interesting."

He clapped his hands.

And suddenly—a projection appeared.

Not just here.

Everywhere.

The Emperor's palace. The great families. The elven domain. The beast domain.

All eyes were on the test.

And what they saw—

…

The participants reappeared in a forest. A vast, endless expanse of ancient trees.

Noah stood alone.

Damon's voice echoed from the sky.

"This test is simple."

"There are monsters in this forest. The weakest is B-rank."

"Reach the center. One you reach the center the first part of this test will be done. And for the second part, you will know it once there."

"You each have a token. It will record your kills. Beast and humans alike."

"If you kill another participant, their token becomes yours and so their kills."

"Once two hundred people reached the center, the rest who didn't will be automatically eliminated and will be sent out."

"The test lasts 1 day."

His voice was absolute.

"And it starts now."

Silence.

Noah exhaled.

Alone. Shadowless.

He smirked.

Chapter 28: One step

Noah stood still. Unhurried.

While others rushed, fought, and clawed their way forward—he sat.

With a flick of his fingers, an ice chair formed beneath him.

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

Calm. Unbothered.

A porcelain cup materialized in his grasp, steam curling from the surface.

The scent of jasmine and frost filled the air.

A special blend. His mother's favorite.

As he brought the cup to his lips—

Rustle.

A figure emerged from the foliage.

Petite. Green-haired. Wide-eyed.

She blinked.

Confusion flickered across her delicate features. Tea? Here? In the middle of a death match?

Noah met her gaze. His expression unreadable.

"Do you like tea?" he asked, voice smooth. "This is my mother's personal blend. Consider yourself honored."

The girl: O|O

…

Elsewhere, none of the true geniuses moved toward the center.

It was an unspoken agreement.

They waited. Measured. Assessed.

Each occupied themselves in their own way—

Aphasia hovered mid-air, seemingly weightless. But those with keen senses could see it—an air spirit cradling her form.

Elijah roasted the carcass of a slain beast. Flames licked hungrily at the meat, controlled by his skill.  

Eric? Snoring. Sprawled atop a tree branch, utterly indifferent to the chaos below.

Sophie strolled calmly without care of the world.  

CRACKLE.

Red lightning pulsed through her veins.

She did not slow. She did not hesitate.

Every time she saw another participant—

They died. No mercy.  

Elizabeth did what she did best—building an army.

She sought out stragglers, weaving her web. A growing force, all to aid Elijah.

Rouge? The twin beastmen?

They hunted. Actively. They were truly bloodthirsty.

…

Half a day passed.

By now only the strong, the talented, and the resourceful remained.

And then—

They moved.

One by one, each of them rose.

Their gazes locked toward the center, as if able to see that far.

A pulse rippled through the air—tension, anticipation, a silent declaration.

⸻

<Quest: Apex Academy's Entrance Test>

<Description: You are participating in a test watched by countless beings across the world. Show them the light of The Blessed One.>

<Rewards: Dependent on performance.>

Elijah read the quest prompt and smirked.

It was time.

He stretched. Rolled his shoulders.

Then—he stepped forward.

And vanished.

A breath later, he reappeared hundreds of meters ahead.

Teleportation.

"Hmph." He sighed. "Two more steps, and I'll be there. If only this ability were easier to train…"

Shaking his head, he pressed onward.

At the same time—

Aphasia.

She summoned five wind spirits, their translucent forms swirling around her.

Then—she blurred.

A hurricane in human form.

Rouge.

She melted into a pool of blood, slithering unseen through the forest.

The twins.

A golden flash.

Two lions streaked across the land, their paws barely touching the ground.

Sophie.

CRACKLE.

Red lightning surged.

And then—she was gone.

Ten seconds.

That was all it took.

And She was already there. In the center. In company with one orange haired sword girl and a gloomy deathly aura boy.  

"What the ?"  

⸻

Meanwhile, Noah remained seated.

Still sipping tea.

The spectators stirred wondering what he is doing.  

The Emperor frowned.

What was he doing? Why hadn't he moved?

And then—

Noah stood.

The green-haired girl glanced up at him, confused.

"Are you finally making your move, sir?"

Noah raised a brow. "Sir? We're the same age."

She hesitated. "I don't know… I just feel like calling you that."

Noah exhaled.

His gaze shifted—to the heart of the forest.

"So…" he murmured. "Are you ready?"

The girl frowned. "Ready for wha—?"

"I'm taking you with me."

Before she could react—

He placed a hand on her shoulder.

And then—

His aura stirred.

Something shifted.

Something changed.

Yet—nothing seemed to happen.

No grand explosion. No dramatic spectacle.

Just silence.

But the world noticed.

All eyes turned to him.

His mother. The Emperor. Countless powerful beings. The mundane people.

Even Damon's interest piqued.

Noah's voice echoed in the stillness.

"I am limitless. Space and time cannot bind me."

A ripple coursed through the space around him.  

What is a limit?

Space was a limit. It dictated where one could stand, how far one could move.

Time was a limit. It dictated when things could happen, how long they would last.

But Noah was Limitless.

Space should not restrict him.

Time should not constrain him.

And so—

His aura activated.  

Space weakened.

Time slowed down slightly around him.  

It was just a little bit. But it was enough for Noah.  

And then—

He took a step.

To the spectators—he did not move. He simply…arrived.

One breath, he stood with the girl.

The next—

He was at the center of the forest.

At the exact same moment as Elijah.

The world froze.

Shock rippled through the audience.

Even Damon's brows shot up.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

Selene exuded quiet pride.

Her son—was finally beginning to reveal himself.

At the same moment—

A chime rang through Noah's mind.

{Your title: The Reincarnator is acting.}

{You have cleared the necessary conditions.}

{Congratulations, Noah Weaverheart.}

{You have awakened Space and Time affinities.}

Noah exhaled.

Slowly, he turned—

Eyes locked onto him.

Shock. Disbelief.

Noah smirked.

"Well," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Looks like I wasn't too late."

Chapter 29 – Blood & Thunder

Everyone stared at Noah as if they'd seen a ghost.

"Since when has he been here?" the question rippled silently across the crowd, shock etched onto every face.

The central clearing was already brimming with tension. Hundreds of participants stood scattered around, none daring to turn their backs, all eyes wary—watching, waiting. A single breath felt like it could ignite the powder keg of silence.

The atmosphere was taut. The air crackled with anticipation. Everyone was waiting—for the second test, for chaos to begin.

Sophie strolled up to Noah, casting a glance at the green-haired girl standing beside him. Her voice was teasing, laced with mock jealousy.

"You've barely started, and you're already picking up girls behind my back, dear husband?"

Noah turned, lips curling into a smirk. "How dare I? My heart only beats for you. This little one just happened to tag along."

Anya frowned. "This little one has a name. It's Anya."

They both ignored her.

Sophie's eyes narrowed slightly, shifting back to the situation. "Any idea what the second part of the test is?"

Noah's smile deepened. "Isn't it obvious? Two hundred is too many. They need to cut us down."

He looked around, almost amused by the silence.

"And what better way than a good old-fashioned battle royale?"

As if cued by his words, Damon's voice boomed across the forest, rumbling through the trees like thunder.

"Two hundred of you made it. The rest… are already out."

"You were warned. The academy does not nurture the weak. We want monsters—the best of the best."

"So now, we reduce the number."

"You are exactly two hundred. I want at least half of you gone. Dead or crippled, it doesn't matter. I just need one hundred standing. Or less. Those will move on."

"The test begins—now."

Silence.

It fell like a hammer—heavy, crushing. No one moved. No one dared. The first to strike would be the first to die. Everyone knew it.

And yet, there are always those who don't care. Who don't need to care.

Enter: Rouge Bloodheart.

She threw her head back and laughed—wild, maniacal.

"HAHAHAHA! This is exactly what I wanted!"

BOOM!

A massive blood-forged hammer materialized in her hand. Without hesitation, she brought it down on a nearby participant. Flesh cracked. Bone shattered.

The body hit the ground, lifeless.

And with that—

Chaos erupted.

Skills lit up the clearing like fireworks—flashes of power, bursts of sound, screams. Combat ignited everywhere. Not even a minute passed before bodies began falling. Blood spilled. Cries rang out.

And at the center of it, the one who lit the spark had already found her next flame.

"NOAAHHHH!!!" Rouge's voice tore through the carnage. Her red eyes locked on him, wild with excitement. No one dared get in her path.

Noah's lips twitched. "Damn that girl."

He turned to Sophie. "My dear wife. That red lightning of yours? Quite the surprise earlier. Impressive."

His grin widened. "How about using it again? On the battle maniac sprinting toward me?"

He didn't wait for a reply. "Just keep her busy for a minute, okay? I've got things to do."

He dashed off, leaving only a parting sentence for the green-haired girl. "Anya, you're on your own now."

Anya blinked. Once. Twice.

Then the battlefield erupted.

Screams. Blood. Explosions of light, flame, wind, and worse.

She staggered back instinctively, hands shaking. The scent of iron hit her like a brick wall. She turned just in time to see a head hit the ground—and roll.

Her breath caught in her throat.

This isn't training. This is war.

And Sophie ?

Sophie's eyes twitched. Rouge, about to pursue Noah, was intercepted in a blur.

Crackle.

Lightning danced through the air as Sophie appeared in front of her. "Sorry, heir of the Bloodhearts. You're not going anywhere."

Rouge tilted her head, grin widening. "So you do want to fight, princess."

She clenched her fists. Around them, blood on the battlefield twisted and coalesced—spikes forming from the fallen. A grotesque tribute.

"Let's see what you've got, cheating princess."

Sophie's eyes hardened. Red lightning surged around her like a storm about to break.

In a blink, she was inches from Rouge's face.

BOOM! CRACK!

A lightning-coated punch connected. Rouge was sent flying, her body crashing across the clearing.

But Sophie was already in pursuit.

Rouge's laugh echoed. "YES! YES! PUNCH ME MORE!"

She hit the ground hard. Her nose broken, teeth scattered across the dirt. But then—regeneration. Skin knit. Bones reset. Her smile returned, fiercer.

And with it, her power surged. Her aura became fiercer.  

By the time Sophie reappeared to strike again, Rouge had a blood barrier up.

CRACK!

It shattered under the force of Sophie's blow, and Rouge's arm broke. She was hurled again, her body skidding across the field.

She stood, arm mending before their eyes. Her voice was trembling with excitement. "Princess… you're incredible. I didn't know you were this strong."

"What is this red lightning of yours ?"

Sophie didn't respond.  

Rouge laughed and suddenly her aura darkened. "Now it's my turn."

She raised a hand.

"Blood Explosion."

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Explosions tore through the ground beneath Sophie's feet. She leapt back, but not fast enough. Blood trickled from a wound.

Rouge grinned. Because bleeding in front of her? It was suicide.

…

All across the battlefield, the story repeated in different forms.

In the northwest corner of this battlefield,

Elijah clashed blades with a blue-haired man cloaked in a deathly aura—the polar opposite of his own radiant presence.

"Who are you?" Elijah asked, parrying a dagger strike. "Why are you attacking me?"

The man smirked. "Malrik Thorneborne. And are you stupid? The test is to eliminate. I'm just following instructions."

His daggers moved like vipers—swift, precise. Elijah frowned, pushed on the defensive.

"You won't kill me. I haven't even used either of my talents. This is just swordplay."

Malrik chuckled. "You think you're the only one holding back?"

He raised his hands. "Fine. Let's turn it up."

The ground trembled. Corpses clawed out—humans, beasts, all undead. His aura warped the space around them, causing decay to creep across the battlefield.

Elijah cursed. "You asked for it."

Golden light flared in his eyes.

He raised his right hand: a sword of pure light. In his left, a blade of golden flame.

He vanished—and reappeared above Malrik like divine judgment.

"Brace yourself, you filthy thing."

Malrik only grinned, madness in his eyes. A skeletal dagger glowing green appeared in his grip.

"Bring it on."

…

Elsewhere, bodies dropped like flies.

Aphasia stood untouched, dancing through death with her wind spirits. Every approach ended in a slice—silent, clean, inevitable.

Her face calm and unbothered.  

And Elizabeth ?

Elizabeth observed from afar, her blindfold fluttering in the wind. Sightless, yet she saw more than most. Her talent was eerie. Dangerous. Barely contained.

Only the blindfold kept it in check.

As she stood there, lost in thought, disgusted by the academy's methods—

A voice whispered behind her.

Smooth. Familiar.

"My dear Saintess. What a wonderful coincidence."

It was Noah.

Chapter 30 – The Devil's Whisper

Elizabeth turned toward the voice, her expression flickering with something between confusion and suspicion. How had he approached without her noticing?

Noah's smile remained intact—relaxed, unreadable.

"What are you doing here alone?" he asked, voice casual, curious. "I thought you were always glued to Elijah's side."

Elizabeth didn't respond at first. Her gaze drifted back to the battlefield below. Carnage in motion. It was almost over.

Her voice was soft, almost lost in the wind. "Some will come to challenge the Chosen One. And I'm not a fighter… so I stepped away. I didn't want to distract him."

Noah nodded slowly, stepping closer. "And what about you?" The Saintess said "Why isn't the Princess glued to you?"

Elizabeth turned back to him, a half-smile curling her lips. "I was surprised to see you two together, to be honest. Last I heard, the Emperor was breaking your engagement and giving his daughter to Elijah."

She tilted her head, voice taunting. "So tell me—how did you manage to make her stay? I'm sure she wouldn't mind being the woman of a god's chosen."

Noah chuckled. "Well, how could I possibly allow my childhood love to marry another? I mean—am I not also an SSS-rank holder?"

Elizabeth laughed, but it wasn't a kind one. "Yes, you are. But let's be honest here, Noah. You're no match for Elijah."

Her voice dipped, turning almost sincere. "Still… thank you. That's one girl less to worry about."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "One less, huh? So even you know how many will flock to him?"

"Aren't you jealous?" he added.

Elizabeth's smile vanished. Her voice dropped to a firm, razor-sharp tone. "What do you want, Noah? Stop circling. Say what you mean."

Noah's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes.

"You're the Saintess. He's the messenger of your goddess. Isn't that the perfect couple? I just want to see it happen."

Elizabeth froze. "What?"

"You heard me," Noah replied, voice light but laced with something darker. "I've been thinking about how it could all play out."

Elizabeth stared at him, brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Noah's smile twitched—knowing. Dangerous.

Elizabeth asked, "How?" Her expression sharpened, serious now.

Noah smirked internally.

Elizabeth Lightcross.

One of the female leads. And without a doubt… the scariest of them all.

Calm. Composed. Graceful. But that was the problem. That was what made her dangerous.

A Yandere with control over her emotions—is there anything more terrifying?

Even his mother, a certified Yandere in her own right, couldn't manage that. Around him, her emotions always slipped. But Elizabeth?

Elizabeth smiled while calculating how to kill you. She didn't crack. She planned.

But that's not surprising, with a talent like hers, how could she possibly be normal?

Still, it worked. She had always held back in the early parts of the story—always careful, always restrained.

But Noah had no intention of waiting for her to bloom.

He wanted to watch the garden burn.

"Isn't the question simple?" he said out loud. "Don't tell me you never considered such an option before."

Elizabeth looked at him, puzzled. "What option?"

Noah smiled, soft and sickly sweet. "Of course—to kill the women who are close to him. What else?"

Shudder.

Elizabeth flinched—not from fear, but from the sickening sense of being seen. A part of her she buried, exposed by someone who shouldn't know it existed.

Noah leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"Don't give me that look. Others might not know, but I do. I know who you are, Saintess."

He stepped even closer, just inches from her face.

"I know how you think of every method to kill them—clean, quiet, precise. But you stop yourself. Every time. Because of him. Because of the fear."

"Because if Elijah saw that side of you… he'd run."

His voice slithered into her ears like poison.

"Don't hold back. Because if you do, you'll lose him. You know Elijah, right? He's lustful. He won't stop collecting women."

"So why—"

"Shut up!!!" Elizabeth snapped, voice sharp and loud.

But the chaos of the battlefield drowned her out, and with Noah's invisible sound barrier in place, not a soul noticed.

She stared at him, trembling with fury.

"I don't know what you're trying to do," she said, voice tight, "but stop. Now."

"I won't do anything that could compromise Elijah's happiness. Do you hear me?"

Noah's smile stayed. Calm. Creeping.

"Even if it means sacrificing your own?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

No hesitation.

Noah tilted his head. "Are you sure? With an SSS-rank, you'll live a very, very long time. Are you ready to suffer in silence for eternity?"

Elizabeth paused.

Noah turned and walked away, his voice trailing like a shadow behind him.

"Eternity in agony… That's what you've chosen."

He disappeared into the smoke and blood of the battlefield, his Trickster aura cloaking him from all eyes.

"Why not use your eyes?" his voice echoed faintly. "Look into Elijah's future. See it for yourself."

"Eyes of Revelation, right? What a dreadful talent…"

Gone.

Elizabeth stood still, breath shallow. The echo of that conversation looped endlessly in her head.

Eternity in agony… Eternity in agony…

She repeated the words under her breath. Her hands trembled. Her lips quivered.

But she didn't break.

She would not give in.

…

Below, the battlefield had begun to still.

The air, once thick with killing intent, was now heavy with exhaustion.

Only the strong remained. The desperate. The survivors. And in mutual understanding, they stopped. Too tired, too wary, too few.

Except for two.

Rouge and Malrik refused to stop—lost in the high of battle, still swinging with bloodlust and glee.  

But Elijah is that strong and Malrik hardly managed to touch him.  

But Damon's voice returned. Calm. Cold. Final.

"That's enough. The test ends here."

"Number of participants remaining: eighty."

Sophie stumbled back, blood dripping from her brow. Her body was a canvas of wounds. In her hand, a red lightning spear flickered and sparked.

She breathed heavy, vision blurry, yet her eyes locked onto the figure in front of her.

"Are you immortal or what?" she hissed.

Rouge stood opposite her, body mangled and torn. Her regeneration was slowing. Even she had limits. But the smile on her face hadn't faded.

"Princess," Rouge said, blood running down her chin, "let's be friends, okay?"

She raised a hand like they'd just finished tea.

"And let's fight every day."

Sophie stared at her like she was looking at a mental patient freshly escaped from the asylum.

And for the first time in her royal life—

"Fuck you, Rouge."

She cursed.

The princess cursed.  

Chapter 31 – The Ranking (1)

The survivors reappeared inside a colossal arena, their bodies still bloodied from battle, but their presence undeniable.

The moment they arrived, the crowd erupted.

Roars. Screams. Frenzy.

From the stands, fans cried out for their favorites:

"NOAH, YOU'RE SO COOL!! HOW DID YOU DO THAT THING?!"

"ELIJAH, I LOVE YOU!!"

And then—

"ROUGE!! YOU'RE SO SEXY—COME FIGHT ME ALL NIGHT IF YOU HAVE TO!!!"

Even the guards flinched at that one.

The crowd was wild. The first test had delivered everything the audience dreamed of—blood, power, and untouchable prodigies. They had witnessed the next generation of apex warriors… and they were starving for more.

As for the dead?

No one cared.

This was Apex Academy. A place to forge weapons against demons, not raise pampered elites. Those who died? They were weak. They deserved it. Nothing more to be said.

High above the arena, Damion floated into view once again—serene, distant, like a god overseeing mortals.

"There are eighty of you left," his voice boomed. "All of you are accepted into the Academy."

A pause.

"But this next test—this is where your rank will be decided."

Murmurs rippled through the group.

Damion smiled lazily. "And let me be clear—your rank means everything. Privileges. Resources. Opportunities. This place isn't for the weak. If you want to survive here, you better fight like your life depends on it."

He clapped his hands twice.

"Now… to determine your ranking, what's better than a good, old-fashioned duel?"

The crowd went wild.

"FIRST DUEL: LUCAS VS LUKE!"

The matches began, one after another.

Each duel lit the arena on fire with energy. The remaining candidates all had S-rank talents at minimum, or A-ranks with unique specializations.

Most battles were intense, hard-fought, and won by a hair.

But not all.

For Elijah, Noah, and a few others in the SS-rank and above?

It wasn't even fair.

Elijah used nothing but his sword—no talents, no divine abilities, not even a hint of magic. One strike. Victory. Mercy.

Noah, relaxed as ever, fought with ice alone. The elegance of his technique was deceptive—those who faced him were defeated before they could even understand what was happening.

The crowd noticed. And they loved it.

On and on it went… until only eighteen remained.

That's when the real matches began.

⸻

"Next Duel: Aiden Stoneheart vs. Ren Smith."

A hush fell over the crowd.

Aiden stepped onto the platform, his expression stone cold.

Across from him stood Ren—shorter, broader, wearing that ridiculous heavy armor that no one had managed to scratch.

'Ah, seriously ? what kind of matchup is this ?'

Ren thought silently. He might seem indifferent outside but inside ? He knows damn well Aiden will win.  

'Anyway let's just finish this quickly. I am not cut for battle anyway I am damn blacksmith for gods sake.'

Seeing him at his size with this type of armor,

Most would laugh at the sight.

But those who had been watching knew: Ren was dangerous.

Still, Aiden didn't blink.

Since his younger brother's awakening, something in Aiden had changed. That moment—the one where Elijah outshone him—left a scar. A crack in the wall of his pride.

But cracks let the fire through.

'Chosen One or not… I will not be trampled on again.'

The duel began.

Ren activated his armor immediately wanting to finish this duel and go back, he then summoned his massive war hammer. The crowd buzzed. With his stature and gear, he looked more like a walking tank than a fighter.

Noah watched from the side, turning to Sophie.

"Why are you still sulking? I already said sorry—like, five times."

Sophie ignored him.

How dare he let her fight that psychotic maniac earlier? She was still pissed.

Noah sighed, he then looked at the fight unfolding below "what a bad matchup for Ren."

"This match will end in one strike."

He wasn't wrong.

Ren charged, hammer raised—confident, fearless.

Aiden simply stood still, watching.

Then he spoke—not loud, not angry. Just calm.

"You should've brought something bigger and more dangerous. And If that's all you've got… give up."

The words weren't taunts. They were facts.

But Ren didn't care. He surged forward, hammer swinging with deadly weight.

Aiden didn't flinch.

He stepped aside—one fluid motion—and whispered,

"What a fool."

The ground beneath Ren ignited.

A pillar of crimson fire erupted violently, swallowing him whole. His armor and hammer melted within seconds. He screamed—but his voice was nearly drowned by the roar of the flames.

Only Damion's intervention kept him from dying.

The crowd gasped.

Ash settled.

"Winner: Aiden Stoneheart."

He didn't even look back.

⸻

Elijah watched the whole thing, face unreadable.

But deep inside?

He was smiling.

Brother. Sister. He wanted them both. He wanted to fight them.  

And He would show them…

He would show them what the son of a prostitute had become.

Chapter 32 – The Ranking (2)

The duels raged on, each more intense than the last.

Now it was Sophie's turn.

Her opponent? Domy Vuldar, the beastman royal, known for her sheer physical dominance.

It didn't matter.

Sophie wasn't fighting Domy. She was fighting her rage. Rage directed at a certain purple-haired manipulator who just couldn't stop running his mouth.

The moment the match began—

CRACK!!

A red lightning spear appeared mid-air and pierced through Domy's stomach in a blur of motion, the impact sending her flying from the ring at breakneck speed.

The match ended before the crowd even processed it.

Noah raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching.

'Ah. I guess I'll be crafting a lot of ice lotuses later.'

He didn't need Eyes of Revelation to know Sophie was still furious with him.

⸻

Next match: Aphasia vs. Ray.

And just like that, the other twin followed.

Ray never even got close.

Each step he took forward was met with an invisible wind blade—razor sharp, perfectly timed. Cuts bloomed across his skin like blooming crimson flowers. Eventually, drenched in blood and shame, he raised his hand.

"I… I forfeit."

Two twins, two eliminations. Not because they were weak, but because there are levels to monstrosity.

And some had long surpassed it.

…

Then came a very different match.

Elizabeth vs. Eric.

The crowd wasn't sure what to expect. One was known more for her role as the serene Saintess, a planner behind the curtains. The other—a brilliant mind with a lazy streak wider than the Empire.

When the two faced off, Eric was already yawning.

Elizabeth walked forward calmly. Her voice was even. "I know you don't care much about ranking."

Eric blinked at her. "Go on…"

"So let me win. I'll owe you a favor. Me—the Saintess."

He almost said yes. The temptation was real.

But then he remembered his father's face… and the threat that followed.

"I would love to," Eric sighed, "but my father made it clear. If I don't do my best, he'll burn everything I own."

Elizabeth's expression darkened.

She hadn't wanted this.

She was still reeling from her conversation with Noah. Her mind was a battlefield. She needed time to think and reflect. But she needed that high rank—desperately.

Enough.

She was tired of pretending.

She reached toward her blindfold.

Elijah and Noah—sitting apart—both looked up at the exact same moment.

Surprised.

No one else truly understood what was hidden behind that strip of cloth. But they could feel it.

Even Eric felt it.

Goosebumps crawled over his skin like spiders. His instincts screamed at him.

"Hey—Saintess—what are you doing?! It's just a ranking, come on!"

She said nothing.

Just slowly pulled the blindfold higher—

Halfway up, just enough to glimpse her eye-

The instant her eye was partially revealed, he felt it. A crawling, twisting, burning sensation inside his skull.

His knees buckled. His breath hitched.

"No—NO—STOP—"

He screamed.

Blood trickled from his nose. His very thoughts felt rewritten.

And then—

"ARGHHH—FUCK!!! I FORFEIT!!!"

Eric dropped to his knees, clutching his skull.

His eyes bled.

His vision swam.

He felt like his very soul had been dissected and cataloged, like he had been read and rewritten all at once.

The Saintess calmly lowered the blindfold again.

Eric's voice was hoarse, panicked. "This isn't an SS-Rank talent. This is something else. This is—what even is this?!"

He cursed under his breath.

Cursed his luck.

Cursed his father.

He spat blood on the ground. He can't help but curse again in resentment "Screw you, Saintess."

Elizabeth just looked at him with her usual soft smile—eyes hidden once more.

"I warned you," she whispered.

Then she turned and left the arena, her steps echoing in silence.

…

Noah watched, an unreadable smile on his lips.

So she went this far? Just for a ranking?

In the original timeline, she hadn't cared about things like this.

But now…

Now she was cracking.

'Looks like I got under your skin, Saintess.'

He didn't need to lift a finger. Just talk. Just plant the thoughts.

That's the issue with intelligent people.

They overthink.

And Yanderes who overthink?

Ticking time bombs.

'She'll break. She's already unraveling.'

And maybe… just maybe… he wanted to see it happen.

…

Then, his gaze shifted.

To Elijah.

And beside him—her.

A girl with deep brown skin and eyes, tribal tattoos like dancing flames, and a wild aura that oozed primal strength.

Leona BeastFang. SS-Rank Beast Tamer.

Already clinging to Elijah like a magnet to steel.

Noah's eyes narrowed.

'You again…'

In the original story, she'd been a minor nuisance. After all he didn't care, he was just a reader who enjoyed the story.  

But here?

She was an obstacle. To him. To his goals.  

But when he looked back at Elizabeth—who was smiling sweetly at Leona like they were long-lost friends—he caught it.

The tiniest tremble in her fingers.

He smirked.

'Never mind. I'll let you handle her, Elizabeth.'

He chuckled darkly.

'Let's see how long you can keep pretending Saintess.'

…

"NEXT DUEL: MALRIK VS. ROUGE!"

All heads turned.

In the center of the arena stood two figures—madness incarnate.

Malrik—cloaked in deathly aura, a void of control and bloodlust.

Rouge—with her blood aura, grinning ear to ear, soaked in the thrill of battle.

The moment the duel began—

"BEGIN!!!"

They moved.

One step.

Then—

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!

The entire arena quaked.

Death vs. Blood.

Madness vs. Madness.

No holding back.

Chapter 33 – The Ranking (3)

"HAHAHAHA! You—what's your name? Let's be friends!"

Rouge laughed as her body crashed through the air, flung back by one of Malrik's grotesque undead giants.

Blood gushed from her mouth, her limbs cracked and bruised. But she didn't care.

Because every drop of blood made her stronger.

Every wound—every moment on the brink—awakened something deeper inside her.

Malrik smirked, standing tall as decay spread around his feet. His blue hair fluttered wildly.  

"I'm Malrik. Yes… let's be friends."

He raised his hand.

"Come forth, my undead. Serve your lord."

A portal of shadows opened, and undead spilled out like a swarm. Giant skeletons with burning green eyes, malformed beasts, twisted knights—dozens of them. As if they had always been waiting in another realm.

The crowd roared.

Rouge's smile widened, something primal gleaming in her eyes.

And for the first time, she pulled out a weapon—

Twin gauntlets, forged black with blood-red veins pulsating through them.

"You ready, walking corpse?" she whispered.

Malrik smirked with the same maddened grin. "Come at me."

BOOOOOOM!

The ground cracked as Rouge blasted forward, her fist trailing a blood-red arc behind her.

A hail of blood spears erupted in the air—dozens of them—launched at both Malrik and his army.

Malrik simply gestured, and his undead shielded him, intercepting the attack like loyal servants leaping to take the hit.

The battlefield turned into chaos. Blood exploded. Limbs flew. Undead were torn apart only to be replaced. Rouge fought like a beast possessed—unrelenting, explosive, utterly brutal. A blend of martial mastery and blood manipulation.

But Malrik… he was a necromancer.

Not just any necromancer.

A one-man army.

His mana seemed endless. His will unbreakable. The moment an undead fell, another took its place. He drowned her with corpses.

And so, it became a war of attrition.

And no one wins a war of attrition against a necromancer.

…

Eventually, Rouge collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving, blood caking her skin. Her eyes stared up at the sky, wide open, a crooked grin stitched into her face.

Malrik walked up to her and offered a hand. "You're a monster, Rouge. If you work on your stamina, I'll be the one in trouble next time."

Rouge's grin stretched wider.

"I'm loving this school… I might be having an orgasm right now. I want to fight every day, all day, forever."

Malrik blinked, then shook his head. "You're more insane than I am."

"WINNER: MALRIK."

He offered his hand again.

This time, Rouge grabbed it, her bloodied fingers locking with his. They walked back together—two lunatics, side by side.

The crowd exploded.

"YESSSS!! TWO MANIACS TOGETHER!!"

"NOOOO MY ROUGE!! FIGHT ME INSTEAD!!"

Noah watched the chaos unfold from above, his expression unreadable.

Malrik and Rouge… those two were always close in the novel. It's already starting.

He leaned back, unconcerned.

He had no interest in being close to that blood-hungry woman.

Too much trouble.

He already had enough problems.

Then—his name echoed.

"NEXT MATCH: YUKI VS NOAH!"

Noah blinked.

Ah. Now this was something else.

…

Standing in the arena opposite him was a girl with orange hair, matching eyes, and a katana strapped to her back.

Yuki.

A sword prodigy?

No. That word didn't do her justice.

She wasn't a prodigy. She was a phenomenon. A monster with a blade.