"Uh." Hector groaned softly. "Damn it, I’ve used too much."
He quickly grabbed some acupuncture needles and stuck one into the right side of his temple. The effect kicked in right after. He stumbled over to the bed nearby and collapsed onto it for a break.
He stared up at the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh.
"Everything’s just too complicated."
Not long after, another ghostly voice drifted around his ears.
"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk... Lucky you. If you had been even a second late, I would’ve taken over. Still, it’s fine. Since you’ve already used dance’s corruption, next time if you use even a bit more of it, I’ll definitely claim what’s mine."
Hector didn’t reply. He just closed his eyes for a moment and slipped into a short nap to clear his mind.
Suddenly, the door creaked open and a young pharmacist stepped in. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel(ꜰ)ire.net
She shouted, her voice trembling with worry from what she had overheard earlier.
"W-What happened?"
Her cautious eyes scanned the room. She quickly frowned when she saw Eric and her patient.
Something felt wrong. Eric, who had been taking care of Hector, was lying there as still as a corpse.
She rushed over and checked on her, then let out a relieved sigh when she realized she was still alive.
"Take care of her. Let me sleep." Hector muttered, before sinking completely into the nightmare that had been haunting him for so long.
Based on his own prediction, he figured he’d be out for at least two weeks, right up until the final exam began. Those days would be his last bit of rest before the storm hit.
As he drifted off, he hoped that when he woke, things would somehow be better. At least, that was all he could cling to—because with nothing else left, hope was the only thing keeping him going.
And maybe now, he started to regret tossing away his lucky coin. Who knew—if he had kept it, maybe his fate would’ve turned out differently.
Two weeks passed in a blink.
And then came the special day, the one right before the final exam.
"Principal! Principal! Wake up!" The new assistant called out again and again until the principal finally stirred from his sleep.
The old man, his face painted with that usual clown-like expression, looked worn out, sadness etched across his features. He snapped out of his short doze, gave his head a quick shake, and tried to fully wake up.
He glanced at the piles of papers stacked on his desk and let out a heavy sigh.
"Sir, please, we need to finish this quickly. There’s no more time to prepare for the final exam."
She checked the little clock in her palm, grimaced, then hurried forward. She pulled the principal out of his chair and spoke urgently.
"Please, Sir, the time has come. You have to meet them right now. I know you’re still grieving for your daughter, but a mission is a mission."
After a few moments of hesitation, her words finally sank in, pushing the principal to move.
"...Sigh... Fine. I’ll go." He rose slowly, resting a hand on his assistant’s shoulder for support, then cast one last look around his office before heading out.
He walked calmly through the hallways of the castle’s highest floor, and before long, he stepped into the grand hall—reserved only for nobles and the most powerful figures in the world.
His eyes swept across the room until they landed on a scene at the center.
A round table, large enough for five, stood there. Four people were already seated around it.
Each of them radiated a unique kind of mana, and every single one was at the Ascendant Rank. Normally, such people could only be found in the great clans, where powerhouses gathered. Yet, even here, they glanced at one another with cautious, guarded looks—especially when their eyes fell on the principal.
The principal only sighed to himself. "Those bastards are always the same."
In the blink of an eye, he crossed the room and took the empty seat at the round table.
Before he could even catch his breath, an emperor spoke up. Toby Doyle, father of Clive, sat directly across from him and greeted him in a gentle tone.
"It’s an honor to meet you, Clown of the Pauley Clan."
The principal frowned.
"Me too. But don’t call me by that name. I have a true name, you know."
All the emperors froze at his words. The principal never spoke like that. Normally, he would’ve smiled and said something more playful, like—
"Hahaha, hello my friend. I missed you too."
Even in the harshest moments, he always carried a smile on his lips.
Toby Doyle, the one who had just greeted him, nodded quickly.
"I apologize. Please forgive my rude manners. Uhmm..." He trailed off, unable to finish.
At once, another emperor spoke up. Morris Cobb, father of Bill Cobb, said with his eyes closed, his tone firm.
"Wilmot Pauley. Don’t forget that name."
Wilmot cast a glance at Morris and gave a small nod. Still, he kept his guard up. Among all the Ascendant-Rank individuals gathered in this hall, he was the strongest.
In a one-on-one, Wilmot could have beaten him easily—at least, twenty years ago. But now, Morris had a pet that pushed his strength to frightening new heights. He could even stand on equal ground with one of the Grand Elders of the Pauley Clan, despite still being relatively young.
Seeing someone from his own generation climb to such power, Wilmot could only sigh helplessly.
And the source of it all... was his pet.
A dragon from the world of Equilibria, and a skill coin tied to pet mastery. Together, they gave him strength comparable to a legendary coin. Wilmot had never actually seen someone unleash the full power of a legendary coin, but he knew this much: if a legendary coin couldn’t even activate a third skill, then no one could hope to defeat Morris in a duel.
Even his appearance showed the bond. His skin had taken on the texture of dragon scales across his back. He looked like some hardened Viking warrior.
Toby scratched his head awkwardly. He was still too young to know the principal’s true name.
"Ah, let’s just begin. It’s already late. Besides, I also want to make sure my son’s exam goes well."
And that was the reason they were all here.