When Riven entered the room, he could see that everyone was still awake. They were discussing what they should do and what the plan was for their first beast hunt, which was only a few days away. Riven thought it would be smart to tell the others what had happened in the academy's training room—they were going to find out eventually anyway.
"You fought a second-year?" Leo yelled.
"That's not the concern we should be having," Luka said, disbelief clear on his face. "You won against a second-year. Why was he holding back?"
"Riven, we were supposed to hold back and stay low," Joey said, remembering his own warning. "What are you doing?"
"Don't worry," Riven said with a smile. "I remembered at the last minute, so I let the guy say he was holding back and that was the only reason I won."
Riven knew the second-year would get backup. But instead of going back to apologize now, he would deal with it later—he had already drawn too much attention to himself.
"Riven, you idiot," Harkel said as he walked up to him. "Why would you get into a fight just a few days before our beast hunt? This could be a problem."
Riven hadn't thought about it like that. He realized he had only been thinking about himself and not about how Harkel's goal—to one day become the leader of his clan—could be affected by this.
"Oh," Riven said quietly. "I didn't mean to get in the way of your goal. I just don't like it when people talk about my parents—or anyone I care about. It's just—"
He was cut off by Harkel.
"What do you think, I'm mad or something?" Harkel said, his tone shifting. "No. What I'm saying is—why would you do something like this without us?"
Riven was shocked by the change.
"We're a team. If one of us gets in a fight, we all get in a fight. If one of us gets our ass kicked, we all get our asses kicked. It's simple. Next time you do something like this, inform us first. We'll have your back. Isn't that the whole point of a party?"
Riven chuckled, smiling.
"Yeah. It is."
"Good," Harkel said, smashing his palm into his fist. "And besides, if those guys want to try something, we'll be ready to kick their asses with you."
"Yeah!" Luka yelled like a warrior preparing for battle.
Everyone in the room laughed, the tension finally fading. With the day over, they decided to call it a night and go to sleep.
⸻
Second-Year Dormitory
"Matthew! Matthew!"
The second-year who had confronted Riven yelled down the hall as he entered a normal dorm room.
"Matthew," he said again—but before he could say anything else, he was grabbed by the cheek.
"Do you not see us planning?" Matthew snapped. "What is it that you want?"
On Matthew's wristwatch, the number three was displayed—marking him as possibly the third strongest in the entire second year.
"Hey!" Jay said, not wanting to see his brother get hurt anymore, but he stopped himself.
"What the hell happened to you?" Matthew said as he dropped the boy and walked back toward the other four dorm mates.
"A first-year struck me. We need to make an example now—"
The boy stopped mid-sentence as a blue-haired boy raised his hand, signaling him to stop.
"I'm going to stop you right there," the blue-haired boy said coldly. "With only a few days left before the beast hunt, I'm not going to let you ruin it because you're a weak-ass who lost to a first-year."
The room went silent.
"You shouldn't even be in the dorm right now. If we'd found you before you entered, we would've kicked you out before you even walked in. But since he ran inside, we're stuck with you."
His gaze hardened.
"You are not going to ruin my chances because you can't beat a first-year. Now tell your little shit of a brother to leave, and get your sorry ass in here so we can plan how we're going to handle this beast hunt."
This boy was Sinclair Voss.
"Yes, sir," the boy said in shame.
Jay knew he couldn't get involved. If he did, he would get in trouble—and that would only make things worse for his brother. Since he was already inside, Jay turned and walked back toward the first-year dorms.
"You'll see, Riven," Jay muttered with a smile. "We'll get our revenge on you. And this little game might be the perfect opportunity."
After the six second-years finished coming up with their plan, they decided to adjourn the meeting and prepare for sleep.
⸻
"So," Sinclair said, grabbing Park's face with a towel as he stepped out of the shower, "you want to tell me how in the world you lost to a first-year?"
Matthew entered after him as the others followed one by one—from strongest to weakest. Though Sinclair wasn't the strongest among them, he was the main factor—the most important person in the group. He could go first whenever he wanted, and he could demand whatever he pleased.
"I don't know," Park said. "The kid's speed was insane. I couldn't keep up—not even for a single second. I tried my hardest, but—"
Laughter echoed from the others.
"Something funny?" Park questioned with an anger look
"What's this kid's name?" Sinclair asked.
If a first-year was strong enough to defeat a second-year, then that kid could potentially become an incredible ally in the future.
"My brother told me his name was Riven Harlow," Park said.
He expected to see the same dismissive expression on Sinclair's face—but instead, Sinclair froze. His expression shifted from shock to sudden laughter.
"Wait… isn't that—" one of the second-years began, only for the one beside him to start laughing as well.
"Yeah. It is."
"Wait," Park said slowly. "Do you know the kid?"
"What? No," Sinclair replied, still laughing. "I've never met that kid in my life. But I had Tommy over there go through the list of students who were placed in the same dorm as another Voss family member."
He gestured casually.
"That kid was one of them. Same for his brother."
Park frowned. "Which family member?"
Sinclair smirked.
"My little brother. Harkel."
Park stiffened.
"Man, I thought that kid could've been a good asset," Sinclair continued. "Well… I guess he still could be."
"What, like holding your brother back?" Park said, feeling uneasy as Sinclair kept laughing.
"No," Sinclair replied. "Truthfully, nobody's holding anyone back. If anything, it's you and our group—but I digress."
Sinclair leaned forward.
"What I meant was the rules."
The room quieted.
"Students who are already part of a family member's group can't be added to another group. There are only two ways for that to change."
He raised a finger.
"One—if the family member who's part of the group dies. If that happens, and the group isn't picked up by another family member, they're out of the game."
Another finger rose.
"And two—if the group gets eliminated."
"Eliminated?" Park asked.
"Yes," Sinclair said calmly. "Basically, every three months, groups have to turn in a certain amount of beast gemstones. If the gemstones don't meet the standards, the group is eliminated."
He smiled faintly.
"Once that happens, the group can be integrated into another family's group. Are you starting to get it now?"
Park swallowed. "Yeah… but the way you're saying it—do you want your brother to die?"
Sinclair's laughter died instantly.
He said nothing.
Without another word, he turned and walked over to his bed.
"Hey," Matthew called out, breaking the silence. "Who's next in the shower?"
Tommy stepped forward and headed in without saying a word.
Three hours later, Sinclair rose from his bed.
His upper torso was bare, his abdomen well-trained and toned, faint scars catching the moonlight as he stretched. The dorm was silent—broken only by the heavy, uneven snores of his dormmates.
"Pigs," he whispered.
He slipped out into the hallway, the door closing softly behind him.
The academy was quiet at this hour. Too quiet.
Sinclair walked through the dark corridor until he reached an open window at the far end—one that overlooked the first-year dormitory. The building stood there, lights dimmed, innocent and unaware.
Footsteps echoed.
Sinclair didn't turn as a beam of light washed over the floor beside him.
"Hey," a military guard barked. "It's past curfew. Go back to your room and go to sleep."
The tone was firm—threatening even.
But when the guard finally got a clear look at Sinclair's face, his posture stiffened. His expression changed instantly.
"Ah—sir," the man muttered.
He lowered the flashlight and walked past Sinclair as if he had never been there.
Sinclair didn't react. His eyes never left the first-year dorms.
Another set of footsteps followed.
I swear, if it's that same guard… Sinclair thought.
"Are you okay, sir?"
The voice was familiar.
Sinclair exhaled. "Matthew. What are you doing awake? I thought you were asleep."
Matthew stepped beside him, his white hair catching the dim light.
"I could tell you were thinking about something," he said honestly. "And I know you. When you think too much, you come here. You always look for an advantage point."
Sinclair smirked faintly. "So. What do you think I'm thinking about?"
Matthew hesitated.
Sinclair didn't answer right away. He hadn't planned on sharing his thoughts—but Matthew was one of his closest allies. Someone who had been at his side for years.
Instead, Sinclair asked, "Matthew… who do you really think should be the leader of our clan?"
Matthew blinked. "Sir?"
"And don't say me just because I'm your leader," Sinclair added. "Be honest."
Matthew grew quiet. He stared out the window for a long moment before speaking.
"If I'm being honest… there are two people."
Sinclair raised a brow.
"Harkel and Axel."
"Hm," Sinclair murmured—his younger brother and his older one. "And why those two? Are you just saying that to spite me?"
"No, sir. Not at all."
Matthew turned toward him.
"They have the perfect qualities of leaders—of kings. Harkel is kind and understanding. Even when people beneath him should be kneeling or following his every command, he treats them as equals. He doesn't rule from above—he stands beside them."
He paused.
"That kindness, though… it's a double-edged sword. Some people might take him lightly. Might not take him seriously."
Sinclair said nothing.
"And then there's Axel," Matthew continued. "He's strict. Decisive. When things fall apart, he knows how to lead people out of chaos. His word is absolute—even among some of the clan heads."
Matthew lowered his voice.
"That's why I believe… if your father hadn't created the Games, Axel would've been the next king. By proxy or by vote."
Silence followed.
"And where do I stand?" Sinclair asked quietly.
Matthew didn't hesitate this time.
"You're in between," he said. "You're not as cold as Axel—but not as kind-hearted or easygoing as Harkel either. You see opportunity in people."
He smiled faintly.
"Park is the perfect example. You could've made his life hell… but you didn't. You accepted him—begrudgingly, maybe—but you did."
Matthew's voice softened.
"And me. When I was orphaned beyond the walls, you took me in. You trained me. You made me family. That's why I'll stay by your side—no matter what."
Sinclair glanced at him. "Even if Michael gets in our way?"
"Yes," Matthew said without hesitation. "Even if my brother stands against us, I'll stay by your side."
Sinclair smiled.
"Good. Then we need to be at our best."
He turned from the window.
"There's a reason I chose Tommy and Oliver—the idiot duo," Sinclair continued. "Tommy's an up-and-coming forger. I found him early. We won't have problems with recruitment anymore."
Matthew nodded.
"And Oliver's duplication ability isn't strong," Sinclair said, "but it's useful. Very useful. Later on, it'll matter more than people think."
Sinclair started walking back toward the dorm.
"Now come. We need rest. The beast hunt is coming."
Matthew followed, then spoke again.
"I have a question, sir."
"What is it?"
"Are you afraid to die?"
Sinclair slowed—but didn't stop.
"No," he said. "Not with you by my side."
Matthew smiled faintly.
"Then I suppose my next question is… are you afraid for him to die?"
Sinclair knew exactly what he meant.
His brothers.
"They share my blood," Sinclair said firmly. "There is no world where I live… and they die."
But as they reached the dorm door, his thoughts betrayed him.
At least… I hope so.