Heir of the Darkgod in the Holy Academy

Chapter 1: Blood Upon the Wooden Badge

"Get on your knees and kiss my shoes, you bastard!"

A sharp crack sliced through the air as the iron-tipped toe of a leather boot slammed brutally into Leon's chest.

His body skidded across the wet ground, crashing into a stack of wooden crates that shattered into splinters. A searing heat flared wild in his lungs.

"Brother Leon!" shrieked an eight-year-old girl standing trembling at the corner of the alley.

Mia tried to rush forward, but one of Valen’s guards roughly grabbed her scrawny shoulder, pinning her back.

"Stay put, orphanage brat," the guard sneered, chuckling under his breath.

Leon crawled along the muddy ground, forcing himself up as he wiped away the fresh blood pouring from his lips. His gaze locked onto Valen von Crest with razor sharpness.

The young noble stood tall in his gold-trimmed white uniform, the signature attire of the Holy Magic Academy. Two gemstone rings glinted on his fingers, emanating the warm yet oppressive aura of basic fire magic.

"Just because this orphanage brat spilled a little water on my expensive cloak, you dare look at me like that, Leon?" Valen whispered, his voice dripping with mockery.

Valen stepped forward, stomping his boot directly onto Leon's chest as he lay flat. The pressure intensified, making Leon's ribs creak beneath the weight.

"I only asked for you to forgive my little sister, Lord Valen," Leon rasped, feigning a weak cough.

He buried his head deep against the dirt, hiding the murderous glint in his eyes behind bangs drenched in sweat and mud.

In this academy, Leon was nothing more than the weakest light-element scholarship student. A 1st-Circle mage who couldn't even power a simple light spell without draining his mana completely dry.

"Forgive?" Valen burst into laughter, gesturing for his two guards to join in.

"Talentless trash like you don't have the right to ask for forgiveness in this city."

Valen's eyes flicked toward the wooden badge pinned to the left breast of Leon's tattered shirt. The wooden badge was carved with the number one—the symbol of the absolute lowest, most useless caste in the entire academy.

With slow, agonizing contempt, Valen reached down and ripped the badge straight off Leon's shirt.

"Look at this disgusting piece of junk," Valen sneered, holding the wooden badge high in the air.

"You commoners really think holding a cheap wooden block makes you equal to nobility?"

Valen dropped the wooden badge right in front of Leon's face.

Crack!

Valen brought his boot down hard, crushing the wooden badge into worthless splinters. The sharp sting of flying wood cutting Leon’s cheek paled in comparison to the fury boiling in his chest.

He clenched his fists in the mud until his fingernails dug deep into his palms, fresh blood oozing from his fingers.

"Please stop... don't hurt Brother Leon anymore..." Mia sobbed uncontrollably, her small body trembling violently in the guard's grip.

Valen cast a disgusted glance at Mia.

"Noisy brat," Valen muttered, raising his right hand.

A red spark ignited at Valen's fingertips, aimed directly at Mia's terrified face.

Leon's eyes widened in an instant. There was a line no one in this world was allowed to cross—and Mia's safety was that line.

Before the fire magic could leave Valen's hand, Leon exploded off the ground with speed impossible for a 1st-Circle mage.

Bam!

Leon tackled Valen, sending the noble sprawling into the wet dirt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, trash?!" Valen screamed in shock.

Leon wrapped his arms tight around Mia, using his own back as a human shield. Furious, Valen scrambled up, his face flushed red with rage.

"You bastard! How dare you lay your filthy hands on me!" Valen roared.

Valen channeled all his fire magic into his palm. A blazing red fireball formed, radiating waves of heat that scorched the chill of the narrow alley.

"Die, Leon!"

Boom!

The fiery blast struck Leon's back dead-on. The sheer force of the explosion flung Leon and Mia three meters away.

Leon coughed up a mouthful of blood as his body smashed against the stone wall, crashing right next to his open, tattered cloth bag. The back of his shirt was scorched black, revealing severely blistered skin beneath.

Yet, he had ensured Mia remained completely untouched within his embrace.

"Brother Leon! Brother Leon, wake up!" Mia cried hysterically, cupping his increasingly pale cheeks.

Leon couldn't make a sound. His vision blurred, fading into absolute pitch darkness.

Valen strode over with a smug grin, adjusting his white cloak which had been lightly smudged with mud.

"Know your place, Leon," Valen spat, kicking Leon in the ribs once more.

"Tomorrow at the academy, make sure you kneel the moment you see me walk by."

Valen gestured to his guards to leave.

"Let's go. The stench of trash is getting unbearable."

Their mocking laughter faded down the alley, leaving behind a suffocating silence broken only by Mia's weeping echoing through the chilly afternoon.

Blood kept pouring from the cuts on Leon's head and lips, soaking the wet earth. The thick drops seeped into a tear in his canvas bag.

The blood landed directly onto the pitch-black cover of an ancient book bound in rusted iron chains—an unidentified ancient tome Leon had unearthed in a ruin a week ago.

Sizzle!

Leon's blood didn't pool on the surface. It sank straight in, as if the aged leather was ravenous for life itself.

The iron chains wrapping the volume suddenly cracked and dissolved into black dust. The temperature in the narrow alley plunged, flash-freezing the puddles around them.

Shadowy contours of the surrounding buildings writhed like living things, crawling toward his dying form. Deep inside the left side of Leon's chest, where his magic core resided, felt as if struck by a frigid bolt of lightning, freezing his blood solid.

Agony tore through every nerve in his body. Mia's crying cut short as a terrifyingly icy aura radiated outward from Leon.

Slowly, Leon opened his eyes. His once-faded brown irises had transformed into a deep, mesmerizing purple that radiated an ominous magical glow.

The weakness and resignation on his face vanished completely. Two magic cores raged within his chest: a faint glimmer of light on the right, and an infinite, endless vortex of darkness on the left.

A heavy, ancient, and majestic voice resonated directly inside Leon's mind:

"Do you accept the Throne of Death?"