The arena was a bowl of silence. Every eye in the Silver Spire Academy was locked on us. Julian Thorne, the golden prodigy, stood with his stolen light glowing like a miniature sun. I stood in my ragged servant’s tunic, looking like a shadow that had forgotten to fade."Are you even going to pick up a weapon, peasant?" Julian mocked, tossing a wooden training sword at my feet. "Or is your 'Void' attribute going to protect you from the crown's wrath?"I didn't pick up the sword. I didn't even look at it. "I don't need wood to handle a thief."Julian’s face twitched. The word thief struck him like a physical blow, even if he didn't know why. "Arrogant trash! I’ll carve that tongue out of your head!"He lunged.Julian was a Master-rank fighter now, fueled by my stolen Divine Core. He moved like a bolt of golden lightning. The air hissed as his sword blurred toward my shoulder. He wasn't going for a clean kill; he wanted to maim me, to hear me scream for the entertainment of the nobles.I

The moon hung over the Silver Spire Academy like a cold, silver eye. Most of the noble students were tucked away in their silk sheets, dreaming of power and prestige. But in the North Wing storage closet, I was wide awake.Rin was snoring softly on the mat next to me. I felt a twinge of pity for him. He was a good person caught in a world of monsters. I moved silently, my feet making no sound on the stone floor. As a "Zero," I had learned that silence was my best weapon.I slipped out of the room and headed toward the stairs. My destination wasn’t the training grounds or the dining hall. I was headed down—deep into the bowels of the mountain.The DescentThe air grew colder the further I went. The grand marble of the upper floors gave way to rough-hewn stone and damp walls. This was the part of the Academy the nobles never saw. It was the foundation, the ancient skeleton of the mountain.I reached the heavy iron door at the end of the lowest corridor. It was locked with a mana-seal, a

The sky was no longer a canopy of stars; it was a graveyard of obsidian ships. The Void Cult had arrived, and they hadn't come for a diplomatic visit. They were scavengers, ancient and cold, who had waited centuries for the Abyssal Gate to crack.The sound of the Academy being torn apart was deafening. Thousands of tons of stone, marble, and ancient wood were being pulled upward into the bellies of the floating ships. Students were screaming, falling through the air like autumn leaves, while the North Dorm servants huddled in the shadows, praying to gods that had long ago abandoned them.I stood in the center of the shattered basement, my white hair whipping in the violent wind. To my left, Julian was curled in a fetal position, his mind broken by the sheer scale of the terror. To my right, Valeriana and Elara were back-to-back, swords drawn, surrounded by the remnants of the Shadow Guard.And in front of me, stepping through the dust of the collapsed ceiling, was my father.The Emper

In the heart of the Divine Spear Empire’s capital, the sun was shining. It was the day of the "Great Victory Celebration." Emperor Magnus Thorne sat upon his high throne of gold and ivory, surrounded by the elite nobility of the Seven Provinces. To them, the "incident" at the Silver Spire Academy was a tragic accident where a rogue servant had been neutralized."To the health of the Empire!" Magnus roared, raising a chalice of enchanted wine. "The darkness has been purged! The Abyssal Gate is sealed, and our future is as bright as the sun!"The nobles cheered, their voices echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the Great Throne Room. Julian sat to the Emperor's right, looking pale but wearing a smug grin. He had been told the sacrifice was a success. He believed the "Zero" who had humiliated him was currently being digested by a demon.But the laughter didn't last.The floor began to vibrate. It wasn't the shaking of an earthquake; it was a rhythmic, deep thrum, like the heartbeat of a t

The air was heavy with the scent of lilies and expensive incense. The sun streamed through the high windows of the Cathedral of the Sun, casting golden patterns on the marble floor. It was a scene of perfect, holy beauty—the exact same scene I had lived through before I was cast into the Rift.I was kneeling. My knees felt the familiar cold of the stone. My heart beat with the same frantic rhythm."Lucius?" my father, Emperor Magnus, asked.His voice was warm, fatherly, and filled with a pride that I now knew was as fake as a copper coin painted gold. He stood above me, the ceremonial dagger held high. In his other hand, the Divine Core pulsed with a soft, inviting light.To my right, Julian stood with his hands folded, his face a mask of youthful innocence. He looked so young. So fragile. It was hard to believe this was the same creature who had worn a porcelain mask in the Ink-Waste.**[System Warning: Narrative Loop Detected.]****[Status: Level 1 Overlord (Suppressed by Time-Seal)