As Dayton Feran stood with his tumbler in hand, the hall quieted again, every noble's attention reluctantly fixed on him. His voice, slurred ever so slightly but still firm enough to be carried across the hall as he began with forced formality:
"Standing on protocol, I would like to thank you all for gathering here today; to celebrate the rising star of the Feran family, my brother... Eden Feran."
Polite applause rang out—scattered and hollow. Most nobles hoped that would be the end of it. Hoping Dayton just wanted to offer a short, simple toast.
But their hopes shattered the moment Dayton's lips curled into a proud smirk.
He wasn't finished.
Not even close.
"Eden has been hardworking," he continued, his voice warming with practiced sincerity. "Training from the moment he could properly hold a weapon and from there, his fire to be the best never waned. His determination burned brighter than every obstacle thrown his way. His perseverance allowed him to endure long, inhumane hours of brutal training…"
The nobles stirred uncomfortably, exchanging glances. Dayton's words, while excessive, painted a vivid picture—a young man molded in fire and forged into excellence.
The emotion in Dayton's tone gave it weight, and despite his reputation, some nobles found themselves believing him. After all, Eden Feran had cleared his trial in four days. That couldn't be faked.
But then came the pivot. The sting wrapped in silk.
Dayton's tone slowed as it sharpened.
"But…" he said, pausing for effect. "Hard work, determination, perseverance, and diligence…" he listed them with measured precision, "…aren't what make my brother Eden great."
A few nobles leaned in, curious.
"No," Dayton said louder, each word hitting with clarity, "it is his ability to meet people's expectations."
The words echoed across the room like a stone thrown into still water.
And in that moment, he looked at Leon.
What he just said was a jab cloaked in celebration.
A public gut punch—delivered with a smile.
But Leon Kael didn't move.
He didn't even twitch.
His expression was unreadable, cold and Detached. He simply stared at Dayton, waiting for the performance to end like a tired spectator at a bad play.
From her seat at the Queens' table, Elizabeth caught the look on Leon's face and let a faint smile grace her lips. Her thoughts were sharp and confident:
"My man won't fall for your silly tricks. You think you can rile him up with just that? Think again."
Dayton's eyes twitched slightly, the lack of reaction irking him more than any insult ever could.
He coughed awkwardly, trying to regain the flow.
At the head table, Luke Feran's fingers tapped twice against his wine glass.
It was a signal.
Dayton blinked, then nodded slowly.
Without hesitation, he lifted his tumbler, tilting it back and draining the rest of his drink in one smooth gulp. The deep crimson liquid slid down his throat—not ordinary wine, but a specially concocted vintage made to overwhelm even Takers immune to alcohol's effects.
As the fire hit his stomach and spread to his head, Dayton's expression twisted into something else.
He slammed the tumbler onto the table.
Eyes glazed just slightly. Lips curling into a crooked smile.
Now the real show would begin.
Dayton cleared his throat, his tongue loosened by the wine, eyes gleaming with a dangerous spark. The nobles looked on, a few growing visibly tense, sensing something unspoken was about to turn into something unforgettable.
"My brother Eden," Dayton continued, "was able to deliver on everyone's expectations. That, above all, shows his strength—not just in talent, but in his will to push through anything… to make his family proud."
A subtle tremor crossed Leon Kael's expression. Barely a flicker.
But Dayton caught it.
His smile curled ever so slightly. 'So the rumors were true.'
He pressed on, pushing past the last restraints of civility, his voice thick with insinuation.
As the hall quieted to a hush.
---
The rumor that crept through Dayton's mind wasn't some baseless gossip. It had roots—roots fed by whispers and jealousy, rooted deep in the training center where the brightest talents of the new generation had once gathered.
Leon Kael, the undisputed top talent of the one-year training program.
Was, admired, envied and hated.
It was only natural. Human nature, after all, came with envy built into its bones. Most kept it in check. Bit their tongues to avoid open conflict.
But not everyone was wise.
And one unfortunate boy from the Feran Domain—a Rank 2 noble with more arrogance than sense decided to bite off more than he could chew.
Leon had been training that day, focused, surrounded by the usual group of hecklers who tried daily to chip away at his patience with childish taunts and empty jabs.
He didn't care. They were beneath him their taunts noise in the wind.
But then one of the boy's made a fatal mistake.
"I heard he doesn't even look like his parents. They say it's some rare disease… but if you ask me, I bet his mother—"
That was as far as he got.
By the time the boy blinked, he was already in the infirmary.
Diagnosis:
—205 broken bones.
—550 torn muscles.
—A concussion that would have left him drooling for life if not for the cutting-edge medical tech. If not for this center's advanced healing systems, the boy would've been dead.
He missed the first trial. His summoning postponed indefinitely until he could move without screaming.
And Leon?
He walked away with only warning.
Why?
Because he was Leon Kael.
The golden prodigy.
The pride of a Rank 1 noble house.
And the boy he'd "corrected" was a known troublemaker with nothing to his name but complaints.
After that day, no one dared to push Leon again.
Not with words.
Not with rumors.
Not even with glances.
The candidates had learned something important:
Leon Kael wasn't just strong.
He was cold and unshakable.
But if you ever—ever—spoke ill of the people he cared about…
You'd regret it for the rest of your life.
---
And yet here Dayton was, standing on a stage, wine burning in his veins, toying with the edge of that boundary.
Dayton didn't care about the repercussions.
Why would he?
In his mind, Leon Kael couldn't do anything to him—for two very good reasons.
First, they were both Rank 1 nobles. That meant the Kaels couldn't use status or connections to suppress him without causing a ripple in the noble hierarchy because he had the same noble immunity Leon did.
Second—and more importantly—Dayton was a D-rank Trial Taker.
While Leon was Still an F-rank Trial Taker.
The difference between them wasn't just a gap—it was a chasm. A gulf of raw power, physical strength, and combat capability.
Even if Leon was more talented, talent alone didn't win fights. Not when the difference in rank was that wide. Dayton knew Leon couldn't close the gap. Not now. Not Ever.
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A/N: You guys can give me your thoughts on Leon's character in the comments.
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