While the crowd erupted in cheers to mark the tournament's end and contestants eagerly mingled, trying to forge new connections, Nova made his way toward Neve.

Just as he was about to reach her, a hand clamped down on his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Thomas asked from behind, his grip firm.

Nova turned slightly, eyes cool. "Didn't know you'd taken up a side job as a busybody." With a tug, he freed his arm. "If you're that curious, come find me in Quarath."

Without waiting for a reply, he tapped Neve gently on the shoulder, then veered off toward Jasmine.

"Finding him in Quarath?" Thomas muttered, his brow furrowing. "Might as well look for a needle in a haystack."

He watched as Nova leaned in to whisper something to Jasmine, then disappeared toward the stadium's exit with Neve at his side.

But Thomas wasn't the only one watching. All across the arena, eyes followed "Elric's" retreating figure—each gaze filled with questions, hopes, and speculation about his future.

Outside the stadium, Nova and Neve regrouped with Alaric and Elric, who had slipped out early to avoid the post-tournament crowd.

Elric looked downcast but remained silent. He had accepted the outcome. Beneath the disappointment, all he felt was a deep, unwavering respect for his Boss—a man who had just displayed power beyond anything he'd imagined.

Alaric, by contrast, stood calmly at Nova's side. What he'd witnessed only strengthened the loyalty he already held. A faint, rueful smile played on his lips as memories surfaced—of the first time he met Nova, and the decision he'd made to follow him. Never would he have imagined that young man to become this strong.

Without a word, Nova pulled out two hats. He placed one on his head and handed the other to Neve.

"Wear this," he said.

She nodded. The hat casting a shadow on her face.

"What are we waiting for?" Alaric asked after a moment.

"I told Jasmine to meet me outside the stadium," Nova replied.

Alaric blinked in surprise. "But Boss... why go to such lengths just to see her?"

Elric and Neve perked up, exchanging glances. They were just as puzzled—since when did Nova wait for someone? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Nova let out a quiet sigh. "It's already starting. Didn't you notice? The students are already forming their own groups."

He paused before continuing, his voice more serious. "Jonathan won't let talented people slip through his fingers. The academies are his, after all."

Turning to Alaric, he added, "These students will be at the academy for years. Surrounded by friends. Do you think they'll just walk away from all that to join someone else? Especially when that 'someone' stands apart from the system they've grown comfortable with?"

The others fell into thoughtful silence. What he said made sense. It was easier to climb the ladder you were already on than to jump to another and start from the bottom. The academy offered structure, security, and a known future.

But joining an outsider—someone with no ties, no promises, and a path filled with uncertainty? That was a far riskier choice.

"If we sit back and do nothing—if we let the best get scooped up before we act—we'll never truly become strong," Nova said, his tone sharp. "At best, we'll be above average. Is that really where you want to stop?"

His turning razor-sharp. It was rare for Nova to speak like this—he rarely took anything seriously. But when it came to his freedom, that was his reverse scale. Touch it, and the calm vanished, replaced by fury.

For a moment, the air around them felt heavier, as if it too was holding its breath, listening to the force behind his words. Then, like a taut string slowly released, the atmosphere eased.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Elric and Neve both nodded solemnly. They hadn't left the academy on a whim. They'd followed Nova because they believed in his path—and so far, they'd been right. Even the top students of the academies couldn't compare to the strength of Nova's generals.

"I understand, Boss," Alaric said, his voice firm with conviction.

"Good," Nova replied, a faint smile returning to his lips.

His eyes shifted toward a figure in the distance. A red-haired girl was approaching.

"She's here," he said.

"Elric and Neve, I can guess," Once in front of them Jasmine said. Her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the four figures, each wearing a hat. She recognized two by their clothing—but the other two were strangers to her.

Hearing his name, Elric was about to speak, but Nova cut in first, a quiet sigh slipping past his lips. That was close. I almost slipped.

"These two," Nova said, gesturing casually, "are my general and my commander." He nodded first to Alaric, then to Elric, who both inclined their heads.

"General? Commander?" Jasmine arched an eyebrow. "What is this—some kind of army?"

Before Alaric could respond, Nova raised a hand, his tone calm but firm. "Let's not get into that here. Follow me—we'll talk somewhere more private."

Jasmine gave a silent nod and followed. The group of five moved swiftly, crossing the city until they arrived at a large, weathered complex on the eastern edge of Univara. Though far from the stadium, they covered the distance in no time, their speed making quick work of the journey.

"What is this place?" Jasmine asked, eyeing the aged structure with a mix of curiosity and caution.

This time, Alaric replied, his voice distant as memories stirred—images from months ago, when he first met Nova. "An old base," he said simply.

They stood before the former headquarters of the Blades of Freedom—the organization Nova had taken over and reshaped into his own.

"There's no one here," Alaric muttered, more to himself than the others. "Malachi must've already moved them to the new base."

They didn't linger at the entrance. Stepping inside, they found a quiet room and sat down.

Jasmine, no longer able to hold back, leaned forward. "Can you tell me now?" she asked, her eyes fixed on Nova.

"Yes," Nova said, removing his hat with a casual motion. Then, he added something that made Jasmine blink in confusion.

"Take your hats off. You too, Elric."

Without question, the three followed his instruction. As their hats came off, Jasmine's eyes locked onto the now-visible faces—only to freeze when she saw two Elrics staring back at her.

Her breath caught. Her gaze darted between them, her mind racing too fast to even register the other two.

"E-Elric... d-do you have a t-twin?" she stammered, her wide eyes settling on the Elric beside her—Nova, still wearing Elric's face.

The real Elric glanced at Nova, who gave him a small nod.

Then he dropped a bomb.

"I'm the real Elric," he said.

Jasmine nearly shouted in disbelief but managed to keep her voice level—barely. "So... you weren't the one fighting in the tournament?"

"Yes and no," Elric replied, rubbing the back of his head. "It's a bit complicated."

He went on to explain what had happened—how he'd fought the first two days, and how Nova had taken his place for the final round.

When he finished, Jasmine exhaled deeply, trying to process it all. She looked at Elric.

"So let me get this straight... you fought the first two days, and today your boss"—her eyes narrowed at Nova—"decided he wanted first place, so he stepped in and fought as you?"

"Correct," Elric said with a nod.

Jasmine's brows drew together. "So you would've lost to Thomas?"

Elric gave another nod, unbothered by the admission.

Her gaze sharpened. "Then how strong are you, exactly?"

Elric smirked faintly. "Stronger than you."

Jasmine's lips twitched in irritation, but she kept her composure. "If you're a commander and stronger than me," she said, shifting her eyes to Alaric, "then how strong is a general?"

Alaric, who had remained silent until now, simply pointed at Elric and said in a flat tone, "Stronger than him."

I could've guessed that myself, Jasmine thought dryly.

Her gaze returned to Nova, still wearing Elric's face. "If I'm weaker than a commander, then why did you want to talk to me?" she asked, voice edged with suspicion. "And why are you still wearing Elric's face?"

"Uh?" Nova blinked, coming back to his senses as he realized he was still wearing the Mask of Three Faces. "I forgot," he muttered.

With a smooth motion, he removed the mask. As his true features returned—jet-black hair cascading over his shoulders—Jasmine found herself momentarily stunned.

Nova offered her a calm smile. "The strength of each commander varies. You're weaker than Elric and Neve, yes—but you might be stronger than others. What I saw in you was potential. Is that a good enough answer?"

Jasmine considered it, then gave a small nod. It made sense. Still, her mind swirled with questions: How many are they? What's their true goal? How is this group even structured? Where do they operate from? The more she tried to understand, the more questions surfaced.

"I have a few more—"

Before she could finish, Alaric cut in, his tone blunt and to the point.

"Do you want to become stronger?"

Isn't that the point of training? Jasmine thought. "Of course," she said aloud.

"You will become stronger if you join us," Alaric replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. "If our people had entered the tournament, aside from Thomas, the rest of the top twenty wouldn't have stood a chance."

The words landed like a blow. Jasmine had assumed they were a small, elite group—perhaps just a dozen. But now, hearing this from the general, her assumptions crumbled. She had thought these were the strongest among them. But if even more powerful individuals were part of this group…

Either the academies were weak… or this group is far stronger than I imagined.

She hesitated, then asked with a serious expression, "If I join… will I be able to leave?"

Nova met her gaze calmly. "Of course. But once you leave, there's no coming back."

Jasmine took a slow breath.

"Alright. Then I'll…"

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