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Chapter 19 - 19. The Fire Beneath The Veil

Fina raised a brow at Diana's sudden, emotional question.

"Really, my lady? You can't fool me," she said dryly.

Yup, it was fake. The whole playful act.

"Oh, come now. Where's your fun side, Fina darling?" Diana said with a grin, twirling her paper fan. The two stood near the estate's front gate as it slowly creaked closed behind them.

Fina, ever the stoic bodyguard, exhaled a long, knowing sigh. "Ma'am, please... show some restraint. You're fifty years old now. Who knows what might happen to your health if you keep this up—"

She was silenced by Diana's soft, confident interruption.

"Dante will take care of that."

Fina's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

Without another word, Diana gestured for her to follow. They entered the estate and climbed the marble staircase in silence. Diana led her to her private chambers. Once inside, she walked toward her bedside drawer and pulled it open, revealing a sealed package—small, carefully wrapped capsules inside a silver pouch.

"Dante gave these to me last year," Diana said quietly, her eyes on the pills. "It was during the family's seasonal check-in with the Ruthwilfer children. He noticed I was walking slower… wobbling, even. So he asked to examine me."

She moved toward the window and sat in her ornate velvet chair, gazing outside. A nest rested just beyond the glass, where a mother bird tended her chirping hatchlings.

"At first, I brushed it off. Just one of his strange whims," she continued. "But the way he spoke—he wasn't guessing. It was as if he knew… as if he'd seen this kind of thing before."

Fina was now standing still, stunned. "My lady... is it the mission? The one given to you when you were nineteen?"

"I know," Diana whispered. "It's catching up to me. But Dante—he's my final bet. If anyone can solve this, it's that stubborn boy."

She turned and gave Fina a fragile smile.

"He said it's curable."

Fina stepped closer. "Then… these pills—they're the cure?"

"No," Diana shook her head slowly. "They're to slow it down. To keep it from spreading. Dante said he's still working on the actual cure."

Fina clenched her fists at her sides. "Why not consult a healer, a mage? Surely—"

"I did," Diana interrupted. "They all told me the same thing. 'It cannot be healed.' They gave me potions, herbs—none of it worked. But Dante's pills... they worked."

She looked down at the packet in her hand, fingers tightening around it. "He saved me. Pulled me back from death's hands."

A bitter-sweet chuckle escaped her lips. "He's so damn stubborn. Once he sets his heart on something... he'll see it through."

Behind a nearby door, slightly ajar, an ear listened.

Taka stood frozen in the shadows, face twisted with quiet rage.

"Dante. Dante. Dante. That damn name again!" he hissed, storming off into the hallway. His fists clenched as anger swelled inside him. "What's so special about him?"

He gritted his teeth. "Dormant. Mana-less. Relies on forgery and toys. And yet even the dragon princess—she let him touch her horns."

The memory burned. Zhurong had flipped him like a doll and smashed him into the dirt... in front of Dante, no less.

His eyes flared crimson as heat radiated from his skin. "Once I turn eighteen... the real competition begins. He has no chance. Because in this world, magic is absolute!"

Taka laughed—a deep, twisted, rising cackle. His palms flickered and lit with flame.

Behind him, Avabel leaned silently against a wall. Her lips curled into a sly smile.

"Perfect."

---

Back at the Academy dorms...

Dante sat cross-legged on his bed, papers strewn across his blanket. Blueprints, sketched schematics, and enchantment theory notes crowded his desk. He held a pencil in his mouth while adjusting a strange-looking gauntlet beside him.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's me—Lytharis," came the silvery voice from outside.

Dante stood up and opened the door. "Hey. What's up?"

"Oh nothing," she said, twirling a lock of her silvery hair playfully. "Just checking on my favorite—and only—friend."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know Zhurong's your friend too, right?"

"Yeah, but she's also my rival. Girl stuff—you boys wouldn't get it." She tugged at his sleeve teasingly.

"Alright, alright. I get it," Dante said, raising his hands in surrender.

"You better," said a new voice as the door burst open with a loud slam.

"Zhurong!" Dante jumped. "Would it kill you to knock!?"

"Yeah! What's that supposed to mean, Dante?" Lytharis echoed with a pout, folding her arms. She now stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Zhurong, both glaring at him.

"Well... uh… you see…"

Nice going, Dante. Rule number one—never get on a girl's bad side. Especially two at once.

"DANTE!!" both girls shouted.

"Someone save me…"

---

(Author's note: You brought this on yourself. Good luck, buddy.)

---

Days passed. Dante kept training harder, unnoticed by most, but not all. Though dormant in mana, the academy's instructors began whispering about him.

It started with his unique martial arts stance. Then came the precise strikes. Every blow he delivered against the self-made wooden dummy was surgical—measured, efficient, brutal. The dummy's limbs rotated from the force, showing engineering precision.

One instructor, Master Kahlup, watched silently. Then stepped forward.

"Dante. How about a little spar?" he offered with a grin. "No titles. No fancy rules. Just two fighters exchanging blows."

Dante wiped sweat from his brow. "Sure."

Meanwhile…

Elsewhere in the Academy halls, Avabel Ruthwilfer wandered, seeking out her target.

She found him bowing quickly at her approach.

"Lady Avabel! It's an honor!"

"At ease, nephew," she said coolly. "I've decided to take you as my student."

Taka's eyes widened. "Truly? What about Uncle Will?"

"I have ways." She smirked, brushing past the topic.

Just as Taka was about to thank her, a shadow loomed.

His body was slammed to the ground with a loud thud.

"Hey! You dare—" He stopped, eyes frozen in horror.

Zhurong.

Avabel and her attendants immediately dropped to one knee. "Princess Zhurong!"

"Oh. It's you two." She crossed her arms beneath her chest. Her cleavage peeked through her battle tunic, unapologetically bold.

"Don't bother me. My Dante is about to spar with one of the instructors. Come watch, Lady Ruthwilfer," she said before running off.

More students began crowding toward the training field, murmuring about the duel between the "mana-less boy" and a seasoned instructor with mana.

Again, Dante.

Taka's fists clenched. Flames danced around his wrists.

"That fucking Dante…" he growled.

Avabel, eyes glinting with mischief, turned toward the training grounds.

"Let's see how impressive this 'trash' really is," she said.

Taka smirked. "Yes. Let's see how far he falls."

They walked together toward the field, plotting. Watching. Waiting.

---

Chapter 19 — End.

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