CROWDED IN DARKNESS

𝑊ℎ𝑦...𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒? 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟...

The marble halls of Elysian Warriors Academy bustled with students, their voices rising in chatter and laughter that echoed off the grand columns and vaulted ceilings. The surrounding pillars were built in honor of long-forgotten heroes from the mortal realm.

Yet, amidst the usual rhythm of academy life, a tense circle had formed, drawing students from their various classes together.

As the crowd grew, so did the murmurs and whispers. What they were witnessing wasn't anything new—it was a daily occurrence that never failed to amuse them, no matter how many times they'd seen it. Some even passed comments in passing.

At the center of the circle stood Abaddon—a lean figure with brown skin and piercing golden eyes. He knelt on one knee, panting heavily from the pain.

His expression was one of quiet determination, despite the visible cuts and bruises that marred his skin.

Suddenly, another kick landed, causing him to stagger slightly, but his eyes remained defiant, burning through his tormentors.

Around him were his classmates—some bigger and taller, others dressed in rich, elegant clothes. After all, this was an academy for the imperial families of the human continent.

Among them, a common expression could be seen. They smirked at the sight of Abaddon, their faces brimming with arrogance, as if they had all planned this bullying session long before the final bell.

Five boys, the culprits of the act, pressed closer to Abaddon. They wore the insignia of both the mage and warrior classes, a sight that was both intimidating and commanding, especially with each of them displaying a glimpse of their abilities.

"By the gods! Is this the son of the great hero Asher?" one of the boys sneered, stepping forward.

His tone was clearly mocking, pitched loud enough for the surrounding crowd to hear.

"Seems like he inherited nothing of his father's strength, aside from his pretty looks. How disappointing."

Then one of the things Abaddon could never stand began to happen. They all started laughing, their loud voices rippling through the circle.

Abaddon clenched his fists at his sides. Each laugh felt like a slap, but he held his ground.

"Look at him!"

One of the most beautiful girls in the academy, a presence capable of charming many of the boys, glared at Abaddon. Her fame had been cut short when she was betrothed to him. Her hatred for him was obvious.

At least, that's what Abaddon thought. Princess Eshla of the Athens Empire, his future wife, spoke up. The sight of Abaddon only made her angrier.

She wore the emblem of the Beast-master class, as poisonous long nails begun growing from her fingers exudeding a beastly aura.

"Barely able to stand. And he thinks he can last here? How could the royal family enroll this disgrace of a nobleman and even expect me to marry this useless trash? May the gods have mercy on me. Pathetic."

Abaddon knew Eshla didn't like him, but it didn't bother him too much. Still, hearing her taunts made his face burn with shame and anger.

Lacking any powers of his own, he had trained relentlessly, pushing himself beyond his limits every day. But it was always futile. It always seemed to mean nothing in the eyes of these students.

Embarrassed and frustrated, he gritted his teeth, looking up at Eshla with an expression that spoke volumes. He refused to let them see him break, especially not her. She was the cause of all this humiliation, he thought.

𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖𝑡'𝑙𝑙 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡. 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠.

But the mockery kept coming—insult after insult. The instructors who passed by saw this and said nothing. It was as if they, too, approved of it.

"Perhaps his father, Asher, is humanity's greatest hero, but his son... seems like a disgrace." one voice from the crowd muttered.

"Face it, Abaddon," another bully jeered, stepping forward with a smug grin.

"You're not your father, and you never will be. This place is for RANKERS of the elites, not... whatever you are."

Before Abaddon could catch his breath, Eshla commanded the bullies to continue. A barrage of blows rained down on him again, each one a fresh wave of pain. Yet, Abaddon held his stance, meeting each shove and taunt with a gaze of unyielding steel.

His pride and determination refused to let him give in to the bullies, even as the pain built up within him. His body screamed for rest, but he still held his ground... well, barely. The crowd murmured, some with disappointed sighs.

"Is this the best he can do?"

By fifteen years old, Abaddon had grown used to the bullying. His endurance and resolve had strengthened over the years, especially for someone with no powers.

But to the Rankers, he was nothing but a weak, frail loser, fortunate to have been born into the imperial families of the Avalonian Empire.

They could not see the progress he was making, nor could they understand the ideals that drove him.

𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑝.

He thought,even as the bruises darkened on his arms. Even as his body screamed in protest, he endured.

Kain, leader of the bullies, was secretly in love with Eshla and furious when he heard about the marriage contract formed three years ago between the Athenian Empire's third princess and the sixth prince of the Avalonian Empire—Abaddon. Since then, Kain had made it his mission to make Abaddon's life miserable for stealing his girl.

Abaddon's endurance had started to make Kain and his gang look foolish in front of Eshla. Fueled by jealousy, Kain decided to escalate things.

He ordered his gang to use their abilities. This surprised even the bullies, one of them hesitating.

"But Kain... isn't this going too far?" one protested.

"I'm not sure we can take responsibility if anything happens to him," another added, concern in his voice. "After all, he's the son of the world's strongest hero. Not even the Sparta Empire could compete with the Avalonian Empire If something were to happen to him."

But Kain wasn't listening. He wanted to impress Eshla, who stood by, watching the spectacle unfold.

It was as though she was indirectly asking them to kill Abaddon. Driven by jealousy, Kain approached Abaddon.

Summoning a crackling sphere of lightning around his fist, he prepared to strike Abaddon so hard that it would break his resolve.

Just as Kain swung his fist to deliver the fatal blow, an alarming aura swept over the crowd. The change in atmosphere was instant, as if the very air had thickened with tension. Even Kain hesitated, the weight of the aura causing him to pause.

A powerful silhouette emerged from behind, and the atmosphere shifted. The strongest boy in the academy stepped forward, his presence silencing the entire crowd.

It was Arthur Jnr. Pendragon from the Lyseum Temple of Camelot, the youngest prodigy at Elysian Warriors Academy.

Though not a member of royalty like the rest, the Temple of Camelot controlled the world with its immense power, being a direct bloodline of one of the strongest heroes in history—the late King Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur was tall, with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that exuded an undeniable authority. His very presence commanded respect.

Known not only for his rare specialty as a Paladin of the warrior class, Arthur was the only sixteen-years-old to awaken the golden star of an early-stage ranker. The crowd stared in awe, their voices filled with admiration.

"It's Arthur! By the gods, he's so handsome!" one of the girls whispered.

"Lady, control yourself. He's out of your league," another girl teased.

"I heard he's at the golden star stage of a late ranker. That's a prodigy for you," a boy murmured.

"I'm sure in two years, he'll awaken the diamond star stage, and by three more years, he'll begin his real ascension. What a monster," another boy replied with pride.

Arthur walked calmly through the crowd, heading directly toward Kain. Kain glared at him with contempt hearing all the the praise and attention given to him from the crowd.

Arthur had earned his reputation, not just as a gifted fighter but as the second prodigious human being, next to Wolven Asher, the hero of humanity.

Unlike Arthur, who had already achieved the golden star rank at age sixteen, Wolven Asher had ascended as a Common ranker at seventeen. Yet somehow, that same prodigy had fathered a son like Abaddon, who was seen as a disappointment.

When Arthur reached Kain and his gang, he was intercepted by none other than Princess Eshla, who sought his attention.

Even Eshla, the academy's beauty queen, couldn't resist Arthur's charm, but Arthur paid her no mind. He walked past her, and Eshla gritted her teeth in frustration. No one had ever dared resist her like this.

Kain clenched his fists, furious that the girl he was trying to impress with all his efforts was being ignored by someone else.

Arthur stopped just in front of Kain and his gang.

"You're going too far," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of steel. "Back off, Kain."

The command in Arthur's voice was enough to make every bully take a step back. Their earlier confidence wilted under his intense presence.

Kain, unfazed, sneered.

"This has nothing to do with you, Arthur. I'd prefer you stay out of —."