The boy's grip tightened around Shaun's collar. Shaun struggled to breathe, fingers clawing at the fabric as he choked out, "L-let go—! I didn't mean anything by it!"
The taller boy's dark eyes blazed with barely contained fury, cold and beautiful as obsidian. His long black hair swayed like a curtain of shadow, the golden dragon pendant on his chest catching the sunlight with every breath.
"Didn't mean anything? You were staring at her like you had the right," he hissed.
Shaun tried to pull free. "I just looked—she's my classmate!"
The boy's jaw clenched. "Classmate?" His tone was venom. "Do you even know who she is?"
Shaun froze, his breath shallow. The crowd began to murmur. Some disciples stepped closer, drawn by the spectacle—others backed away, unwilling to get between a noble and a commoner.
The boy leaned closer, his tone dropping to an icy whisper. "She is not someone you look at. You dare lay eyes on a princess—on my Nina?"
Shaun's pulse quickened. "Y-your Nina…?"
"Princess Nina Heavenstar," the boy said, voice trembling with possessive pride. "My fiancée. Remember that before you disgrace her with your peasant eyes again."
His words echoed through the courtyard, cold and heavy.
Shaun's head snapped up, shock and anger mixing in his eyes. "Fiancée…?"
The word rang through the air like a blade drawn from its sheath. Disciples whispered, glancing toward the cherry blossom tree where the princess sat.
Under its pale pink canopy, Nina looked up — startled by the noise. Her dark eyes widened as she saw Shaun being held by the collar, his feet barely touching the ground.
Her lips parted in shock. "Shaun—?"
Without thinking, she rose to her feet. The hem of her pink hanfu brushed the grass as she ran toward them, her lavender sleeves fluttering like frightened wings.
"Vince, please stop!" she cried, her voice trembling.
The crowd parted like rippling water. Princess Nina approached, her pink hanfu flowing gently as petals danced around her steps. The sunlight caught the soft lavender of her sleeves, making her seem almost otherworldly. Her black eyes shimmered with worry.
"Why are you bullying him?" she asked, her tone fragile yet earnest.
The boy—Vince—turned toward her, lowering his hand but not his arrogance. "Go back. This has nothing to do with you. He disrespected you, Nina. He dared to approach you. I was simply reminding him of his place."
Nina shook her head quickly, her voice almost breaking. "I am sure he didn't mean to! It could be a misunderstanding—please, Vince, let him go! He's a classmate of mine—and I think he couldn't do anything wrong."
The boy's dark eyes flickered—conflicted for only a second—then hardened again.
"He dared look at what isn't his to see," he said, voice low and venomous.
The possessive edge in his voice made a ripple pass through the crowd. Even Shaun, still catching his breath, felt a cold unease crawl down his spine. His vision blurred at the edges. His pulse pounded against the boy's grip, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might pass out.
Nina's voice cracked. "Vince, please! I'm begging you—let him go!"
Her words broke through the courtyard's silence, trembling and raw. The wind stilled, petals falling softly between them, landing on her sleeves like pale tears.
But the boy didn't move. His hand stayed tight on Shaun's collar, knuckles white, jaw clenched in furious restraint.
And as Nina's eyes filled with helpless fear, the moment froze — Shaun trapped, Vince unrelenting, and the air heavy with unspoken threat.
Shaun's vision dimmed at the edges. Nina's voice trembled somewhere beyond the pounding in his ears, calling his name—soft, desperate—before everything blurred into white petals and silence. And beneath the falling blossoms, the courtyard held its breath.
**********
The savoury aroma of steamed dumplings filled the Silver Heaven Hall, warm steam curling through the air. Shaumin, Sabastian, and Natasha stood in a long queue, trays in hand, waiting their turn near the counter.
"Four plates of spiced dumplings," Shaumin declared, adjusting the folds of his gii with mock pride. "Hot, fragrant, and perfectly celebratory. One for each of us—including our wandering philosopher under the cherry blossom tree, Shaun, of course."
Sabastian chuckled. "Let's just hope the kitchen doesn't run out before we reach the counter."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "You two act like food critics. Shaun's out there finding us the perfect picnic spot, and you're worrying about dumplings."
Before either could retort, two disciples hurried past, their voices sharp with gossip.
"Did you see that? There's chaos in the east courtyard!" one hissed. "That commoner boy from first-year—he just got grabbed by a royal!"
The other's tone turned anxious. "Another Noble-Commoner conflict? Who are those fools this time?"
"The same one who stood up to Rufus and Albus' group a few weeks ago!" the first whispered. "But this time it's not just any noble—it's Vince Dragonblade. The Emperor's son himself. They say it's over Princess Nina Heavenstar."
The other gasped. "You're joking! If that's true, that commoner's finished. Vince Dragonblade's a maniac. No one survives offending the heir of the Dragonblade family. Even his soul power is said to crush weaker disciples. That boy's doomed—this'll be his last day alive for sure."
Shaumin's head snapped up. "Wait— Did you guys hear what they just said?"
Sabastian frowned. "You think they're talking about… him?"
For a heartbeat, Shaumin went completely still. Then he muttered, half to himself, "Of course it's him…" and let out a dry laugh. "Who else could it be? The boy's got a natural gift for attracting trouble. If chaos had a mascot, it'd wear Shaun's grin."
Before Sabastian could reply, Natasha slammed her tray onto the counter, eyes flashing.
"Enough talking, you two! If Shaun's really there, he could be in danger! Let's move!"
Her sharp tone snapped both boys to attention. Without another word, Shaumin turned, his gii flaring behind him as he bolted toward the exit. Sabastian followed close behind, nearly toppling a stack of bowls.
"Natasha, wait—!" Sabastian shouted, but Shaumin was already sprinting down the corridor.
"Guess our special lunch's off the menu," Shaumin muttered, though his eyes burned with resolve.
"Hey, Shaumin, what's the plan?" Sabastian called as they ran.
Shaumin's voice came back sharp and uncharacteristically serious. "Plan? There's no plan. We pull that idiot out before he gets himself killed."
Natasha clenched her fists, her voice trembling with urgency. "If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive that royal brat for hurting him!"
Their footsteps thundered through the marble halls as sunlight spilled through the arches. The trio burst into the open courtyard, wind carrying faint shouts from the east—where pink petals drifted through the air like falling sparks.
Shaumin gritted his teeth. "Hang on, Thunderhawk. We're coming."
And with that, they raced toward the commotion.
*********
The courtyard had gone eerily still. Only the rustling of cherry petals and the ragged sound of Shaun's breathing filled the air. Vince's hand still gripped his collar, knuckles pale, fury blazing behind his dark eyes.
"Pathetic," Vince hissed. "You think you can just look at her and walk away unharmed?"
Shaun's vision blurred. The pressure around his throat burned like fire, but deep inside, something stubborn sparked. His fingers clenched into fists.
"Let—go—!" he rasped. And with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved.
Vince stumbled back a half-step—surprised more than hurt. For one fleeting heartbeat, the crowd gasped. Shaun staggered free, coughing and clutching his neck, air rushing back into his lungs.
That brief defiance made Vince's eyes narrow with fury. His pride—wounded, public—turned venomous.
"You dare lay hands on me?" he said softly, too calm to be sane. Then his voice thundered: "GET HIM!"
For a split second, no one moved. Then, like puppets cut loose from hesitation, the followers lunged. That half-second of stillness makes his command hit harder. The four followers behind him sprang into motion like wolves unleashed.
Shaun barely dodged the first punch, ducking low as a kick swept toward his ribs. He countered with instinct more than skill—landing a sharp elbow to one attacker's stomach before another slammed into him from behind.
The crowd flinched at the sound of impact. Shaun hit the ground, rolled, and scrambled back up—swinging his arm wildly to keep them off. But there were too many. Within moments, two of Vince's lackeys had him pinned by the arms.
Vince stepped forward, the sound of his boots crunching over fallen petals. He looked down at Shaun with cold amusement.
"Still breathing?" he sneered. "Let's fix that."
His fist struck. Once. Twice. Shaun's head snapped to the side, blood painting the corner of his lip. Murmurs rippled through the crowd—shock, pity, fear—but no one stepped in.
"Stop it, Vince!" Nina's voice broke through, trembling yet desperate. She struggled against her friends' grip as they held her back. "Please! You'll hurt him!"
Vince didn't even turn. "Natsumi. Julia. Reina. Take her away."
"Vince, please—!" Nina's cry was swallowed by her friends as they reluctantly obeyed, leading her away despite her protests. Her lavender sleeves fluttered like wilted petals as she looked over her shoulder one last time, guilt and fear clouding her eyes.
Shaun's knees buckled as another blow landed in his stomach. He gasped, forcing his glare upward, refusing to look away from the prince's cold smile.
"Look at me now, commoner," Vince said, voice dripping disdain. "This is what happens when dirt tries to reach the stars."
Some of the disciples laughed nervously. Others looked away in silence.
**********
Above, on the second-floor gallery overlooking the courtyard, two older boys watched from the railing.
One—a lean, sharp-eyed youth with spiky black hair—stood with his arms folded, a small leather-bound book open in one hand. The other, taller and broad-shouldered with a martial artist's build, leaned forward intently.
"Hey, Aiden—did you see that? It's that arrogant dragon brat again," said the taller boy, Garland, his tone filled with irritation.
Aiden, calm as still water, turned a page with quiet precision, eyes flicking down toward the commotion. "Yeah," he said. "I see it."
Garland frowned. "That's brutal. He can never change. Always picking on new disciples. The poor kid doesn't stand a chance. Want me to… do something?"
Aiden's eyes, dark and unreadable, followed Vince's every movement. "No," he said quietly. "Not yet."
Garland turned, surprised. "You're just going to watch?"
Aiden didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on Shaun—bloodied, trembling, yet still glaring back at his opponent with unbroken fire.
"I want to see what he does next," Aiden murmured.
Garland frowned deeper. "You seem off today. Can't you see that poor guy's getting crushed? I hate to say it, but he's done. Do you really think he's got anything left to turn this around? He is not taking on someone like Rufus or Albus like he did last time. This time it's Vince, the third strongest in this academy. Or are you waiting for some miracle?"
Aiden closed the book halfway, thumb marking the page. A faint smirk curved his lips. "You know I don't believe in miracles, Garland. But as for his potential…"
He looked down again, eyes narrowing with faint intrigue. "Let's just say I have a theory worth testing."
Both boys fell silent, their eyes locked on the chaos below.
**********
Down below, Shaun staggered, his body aching, his pride bleeding—but his eyes, beneath the bruises, still burned bright. Shaun's breath came ragged, the taste of iron thick on his tongue. Yet even as his vision swam, he saw it — pink petals swirling in the wind, as if refusing to fall.
Each one falling like a silent witness to the storm that was only beginning to awaken. And just as Vince's fist drew back once more— a shout pierced the silence.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
The crowd turned.
Shaumin, Sabastian, and Natasha burst into the courtyard, their uniforms still dusted with steam from the kitchen, faces burning with fury. Shaumin's gii rippled in the wind, Sabastian's blue hair caught the sunlight, and Natasha's lightning-like glare sparked under her bangs.
"Get away from him!" Shaumin shouted, stepping forward without hesitation.
Sabastian and Natasha flanked him, their presence crackling with energy. The crowd stirred. The air itself shifted. Vince's smirk faltered just slightly.
The three friends stood tall—unyielding, fearless—against the prince and his lackeys. For the first time that day, Shaun lifted his head, dazed but alive… and saw them there.
Not gods. Not nobles. Just friends—standing between him and the storm.
The petals danced around them like embers, marking the moment when everything began to change.
**********