Riven knew instantly that whoever stood in front of him wasn't a first-year.
The uniform gave it away.
It was the same design as everyone else's, but instead of pitch black, it was a deep, metallic blue—heavier, reinforced, worn only by upperclassmen. The kind of uniform earned through years of combat training.
Riven didn't care.
He wasn't about to let anyone disrespect his mother and father and walk away without paying for it.
"Apologize."
Riven's voice cut through the room as he pointed straight at Jay, who was still standing behind his older brother.
"Apologize?" Jay asked, confused.
"Yes," Riven snapped. "You called my parents bums. Apologize—now—or I'll make you pay for it."
The look in Riven's eyes said everything.
If Jay didn't do it, Riven would move.
And he wouldn't regret it.
"I—" Jay started, clearly shaken and ready to apologize.
But before he could finish, his older brother stepped in front of him again.
"No," the second-year said coldly. "You will not apologize to a wallborn. You dare speak to us like that? Our family—our adventurers—could enter your walls at any time. We could kill your parents and leave you a crippled orphan—"
He never finished the sentence.
A lightning-fast backfist ripped through the air.
The impact slammed the second-year into the white stone wall, dust exploding outward as the reinforced surface cracked. Heat rippled through the training hall, the shockwave echoing across the room.
Riven didn't even flinch.
"Do you want to end up like him?" Riven asked calmly.
The training hall was massive—an enclosed combat chamber designed to withstand violent abilities. White panels lined the walls, glowing faintly from constant heat output. The air shimmered as if the room itself was overheating, sweat forming instantly on exposed skin. Every breath felt thick, heavy, like standing too close to an open furnace.
Nico, standing off to the side, stared in shock.
The last time she'd seen Riven fight, he was reckless—an idiot who had knocked himself out using his own ability.
Now?
He had just knocked a second-year aside like it was nothing.
What was that speed? she thought.
I've never seen him move that fast… Did he grow that quickly—or was he always holding back?
Jay looked at his brother, fear flashing across his face—before it suddenly vanished.
Riven noticed it immediately.
The second-year's body began to change.
Metal spread across his skin in overlapping plates, silver-gray and seamless, until his entire body looked like living steel.
"Heh," Jay smiled to himself. Brother activated Iron Body. His hand should be shattered.
But when Jay looked again—
Riven's fist was completely fine.
Not a bruise.
Not a crack.
As if it had struck nothing at all.
A low rumble echoed through the hall as the second-year pushed himself up, metal scraping against stone.
"Damn…" the second-year thought. What the hell is his fist made of?
His jaw ached, as if something had dented him from the inside.
And that speed…
Before he could react, Riven was already standing in front of him again.
Too fast.
Riven stared straight into his eyes.
"Now," he said quietly, "apologize."
The second-year stood fully, his entire body encased in metal. Every step he took produced a loud clank as his feet struck the floor. When he jumped in place, the ground rang like an anvil being struck again and again.
He may have speed and strength, the boy thought.
But eventually he'll hit me enough times that his hand will turn into nothing but pulp. Flesh can't beat metal forever.
Riven could see it clearly.
The boy wasn't backing down.
Electric energy continued to course through Riven's body, crackling beneath his skin. His electric body was still active, draining energy steadily while returning a small amount each minute. With his new energy reserves, he could afford the cost—for now.
He could burn himself out if he had to.
Worth it.
"Pfft."
"He's doing it again—man, what a copycat."
"I know, right? Does he really think he can beat a second-year with that?"
Their voices cut off mid-sentence.
Riven moved.
So fast that none of them could follow it.
The second-year barely had time to raise his guard before Riven's fist—coiled with electric force—slammed into his chin, snapping his head upward. Before his body could even react, punches rained into his abdomen.
One after another.
Each hit felt like a hammer wrapped in lightning.
Thirty… forty… fifty…
The boy counted them instinctively, forcing himself to stay conscious through sheer will. Pain tore through his metal body, vibrating through every plate.
He tried to look down—
But Riven was already gone.
"Bro—look up!"
Jay's shout came a second too late.
The second-year's eyes lifted just in time to see Riven above him, both hands clasped together, electricity spiraling wildly around his arms.
The strike came down.
The impact shattered the floor.
The white-hot training hall trembled as cracks spider-webbed outward beneath them, stone exploding into dust and smoke. Heat surged violently, the glowing white walls flaring brighter as suppression fields strained to keep up.
When the dust finally settled, silence filled the room.
Riven was sitting on the second-year's chest, staring down at him.
Or at least—he would have been.
The boy was unconscious.
Riven blinked, then stood up slowly. He turned his head toward Jay.
Jay dropped instantly to his knees.
"I apologize! I'm sorry—I apologize!"
Riven walked past him.
Jay's heart pounded so loudly he thought it might burst out of his chest—but Riven didn't strike him. Didn't even look at him.
The electric energy around Riven's body faded as he deactivated his ability.
As he passed, he leaned in just enough to whisper—
"I'm getting an apology later."
Jay froze.
He understood.
He had apologized.
His brother hadn't.
Gasps rippled through the training hall.
"Am I dreaming?" someone muttered, rubbing their eyes.
"Why would you dream about another student?" someone else scoffed.
"Yeah, but this doesn't make sense. He defeated a second-year. A first-year. And he's not even in the low ranks—he's in the seven hundreds."
"Think he's gonna get back at us for talking trash?"
"From what I heard, he doesn't care what anyone says about him… unless it's about his parents or his brother."
When Riven heard that, he stopped.
He looked back.
The entire room went silent.
Students stiffened, conversations dying instantly under his gaze. After a moment, Riven turned away again and walked toward the exit.
He got what he wanted.
And his body—his new body—felt… stable. Not perfect, but closer than before.
"Oh—hey, Nico."
Riven stopped when he noticed her standing there.
She grabbed his shoulder before he could pass, her grip tight.
"Hey… are you alright?" Riven asked.
Nico wasn't his friend—but she wasn't a stranger either. More like an acquaintance. Someone familiar, but distant.
"H-how…" she stuttered.
"How what?" Riven said innocently, though he knew exactly what she meant.
Before she could press further, he stepped away and continued walking.
Nico stared after him.
How…
Back in the walls, she'd been on par with him. Even then, it had been close—but manageable.
During the combat exam, he'd looked worse than usual. Slower. Sloppier.
Like he was holding back.
Why would he do that?
And now—
He'd just defeated a second-year. His hands should've been shattered. Broken beyond repair.
But they were perfectly fine.
The academy had only been open for three days.
Three days—and he's already surpassed me…
Heat flared unconsciously around her body as flames curled along her arms.
She had never seen Riven, Jordan, or Joey as friends.
They were rivals.
At least… they were.
Joey had always been out of her league.
But Riven?
Not anymore.
And if one twin had grown this strong, the other couldn't be far behind.
"How…" she whispered again.
Her eyes widened.
Harkel.
The games.
They're part of the games.
Did Riven do something to help them grow stronger?
Even then—this was too fast.
Her jaw tightened.
Fine. Then I know what I need to do.
I need to join the games.
I need to help one of the Voss family members become king—or queen—of the Voss clan.
Suddenly—
"Hahaha!"
Maniacal laughter echoed through the white-hot training hall.
Everyone turned.
The second-year was standing again—arms raised in a triumphant pose, laughter spilling from his mouth.
"Yeah! You better run!" he shouted. "What, you fools really think he defeated me? I was holding back the whole time! There's a reason he ran—his hand's probably about to fall off the bone!"
Some students hesitated.
That explanation made sense.
But Jay knew better.
His brother had been knocked out.
Defeated.
Was Riven really that powerful…?
As the brothers left the training hall, the heavy door sealing behind them, the second-year collapsed onto Jay's shoulder.
"Bro—"
"Shut up," his brother snapped weakly. "Do you know how embarrassing that was? Take me to my dorm. Now."
"Yes, sir."
Jay guided him away.
The moment they were out of sight, the second-year went limp again.
It was obvious—he'd forced himself up purely to save face.
Some students believed the lie.
Others saw straight through it.
As Riven walked down the corridor, a familiar presence stirred in his mind.
The system informed him he had gained six hundred experience points for defeating a high-level opponent.
It followed up by stating that defeating a second-year—someone meant to be an entire year stronger—qualified him for an additional reward.
Another six hundred experience points were added.
Riven felt it immediately.
He had leveled up.
Then something new appeared.
The system notified him that the effect of the Feymir system race trait had been added.
Riven frowned.
"…What?"
He asked the system what that meant.
The system explained that certain races possessed inherent traits that correlated directly with the system.
Still confused, Riven asked for a simpler explanation.
The system compared it to the real world—some races could fly, others gained strength by consuming enemies or absorbing energy. A system trait, however, was something originally from Legend of the Evolver, adapted directly into this world.
Riven froze.
This was the first time the system had ever mentioned Legend of the Evolver.
Which meant—
The system knew exactly where it came from.
"…So," Riven said quietly, "what is the Feymir system trait?"
The system answered.
The Feymir trait allows the user to gain one stat point every level instead of every five levels.
Riven's eyes widened.
That was absurd.
Every level now meant growth.
Faster.
Stronger.
Constantly.
[system:Name: Riven Harlow
Level: 10
XP: 164 / 1400
Race: feymir
Awakening: One
Strength: 33
Speed: 34
Durability: 34
Energy: 34/ 34
Health: 35 / 35
Unassigned Stat Points: 1]
Riven exhaled slowly.
this is just the beginning…