Villain Seduces to Rise in Status

A few hours later, Elon and his entourage showed up at Cale’s door without warning.

Cale was still lying on his bed, his head propped up by one elbow, when they barged in. The moment he saw them, irritation flashed across his face.

"The fuck are you guys here for?" he snapped, "Let me sleep for god’s sake. It’s been like two weeks since I had a proper sleep."

Elon and the others—including Nex and a few other academy students—filed into the small dorm room without invitation. Elon simply sighed and pulled up a chair, settling in like he had every right to be there as his "NO.1 Lackey".

"You don’t know how much of a chaos you’ve caused, do you?" Elon asked, he found the entire situation both amusing and exasperating.

Cale stared at him without moving. "What chaos? We just had a spar. And it’s not like I won it or something."

Nex stepped forward from behind Elon, shaking his head in disbelief. "You’d be an idiot to think you ever had a chance of winning against her anyways. You tied with the second strongest sword cultivator of this academy! There’s another senior at number one, but how the fuck did you do it?"

He paused, his eyes narrowing.

"You’re from a magic family, you know. Your father uses a sword, sure, but he can’t possibly be that good. Hell, I doubt he even taught you anything worthwhile."

Hearing that, Cale looked away, his jaw tightening. He wasn’t about to explain the new techniques on his hand, the blade or any of the other impossible things that had gone into that fight.

Elon watched the avoidance carefully, then narrowed his eyes that came from knowing Cale was hiding something significant.

"The duke really didn’t teach you shit, huh?" Elon said. "Well, we won’t ask you how you did it, but you’re lucky. Luckier than you know. Lord Silvester saved your ass again."

Cale’s head snapped toward Elon, surprise flickering across his features. "He got me out of this? Sigh, I thought you would..." He trailed off. "Well, be that as it may, he did save me before too, huh? I should give him a visit."

’And I might need to give him more gifts. Hell, I didn’t even give him what I promised him before—that wine he wanted so badly. Thank god I brought a shit ton of stock just to gift to Silvester. Getting a person’s support is easy if that person is a lazy drunkard.’

Elon leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "But why were you fighting late at night anyway? You could’ve done it during daytime. The designated sparring grounds are available during academy hours."

Cale looked down at his bandaged torso, clearly trying to figure out how to explain this without revealing too much.

’How do I even tell these guys? Oh, I just entered their room and they were changing, you know they were host as fuck!...’ he thought desperately. ’Sigh.’

He looked back up at them, his expression carefully neutral. "Um, well, things just happened that way."

Elon stared at him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. The smile tugging at his lips was knowing—almost predatory.

’This guy could bring a girl to her knees with just a wink,’ Elon thought with amusement. ’But oh well, Lady Zenith was never interested in such things to begin with. Hell, even her father doesn’t want her to marry at all. The man’s obsessed with the sword—says romance is a distraction from the true path.’

Elon shook his head slowly, as if dismissing whatever conclusion he’d been forming.

"Alright," he said finally, shaking his head with acceptance. "I’ll believe you... for now, that is."

’I know you’re lying, but I’m letting it slide.’

Nex, still hovering near the doorway, let out a low whistle. "Seriously though, tying with Zenith Kastor? That’s insane. Do you have any idea what kind of training she does? Her father is literally the strongest swordmaster in the entire kingdom. She’s been training since she could hold a sword."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Cale muttered, waving a dismissive hand. "I got lucky."

"Lucky?" Nex laughed incredulously. "You got lucky? Man, luck doesn’t cover half of what happened out there. The energy signatures alone were enough to wake half the academy, and when we did you both were gone."

Elon stood up from his chair, stretching slightly. "Anyway, we just came to check if you were still alive. Seems like you are, barely. Try not to get yourself killed before the semester ends, yeah?"

"I’ll try my best," Cale said dryly.

’As if it would take that long.’

As they filed toward the door, Elon paused at the threshold, glancing back with that same knowing smile.

"Oh, and Cale? Whatever you’re planning next, try to be a bit more discreet about it. You’re starting to draw attention from people who actually matter."

"Will do, now go, or are you going to read me a bedtime story now."

*

The evening air was thick and cooling, painted in shades of amber and deepening purple as the sun finally surrendered to the horizon.

Cale pushed open the door to Silvester’s office, already prepared for whatever he’d find. As always, the old man was sprawled across his reclining chair with no work to do, one arm dangling over the armrest while the other held a smoking cigar.

The moment Cale entered, the acrid smell hit him.

"Cough! Cough!" Cale sputtered, waving his hand in front of his face. "You geezer, w-what is this? Were you smoking?!"

Silvester opened one eye lazily, regarding him with the side-eye.

"Oh, look who decided to show up," the old man drawled, sitting up slightly but not bothering to extinguish his cigarette. "If it isn’t an ungrateful son of a—"

"Stop! I’m sorry, alright?" Cale cut him off quickly,

Silvester sat up properly then, his eyes fully open now as he studied Cale with obvious interest. The smirk on his weathered face suggested he was enjoying this leverage far more than he probably should.

"Well..." he said slowly, dragging out the word. "I hope you brought the stuff then..."

"Yes."

He pulled out a storage ring—and with a flourish of spatial manipulation, produced ten bottles of expensive wine and whisky. But that wasn’t all. Two additional bottles materialized, they were spirit resonance wine, the kind that cost more than most cultivators made in a year.

Silvester’s entire demeanor changed instantly.

His eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly as he stared at the collection of bottles arranged before him like treasures in a vault. For a moment, the lazy drunkard persona fell away, replaced by something almost reverent.

He was practically drooling.

’Haah, these fucking alcoholics. Well, at least I know how to handle him now.’

"The debt is settled now, right?" Cale asked, eager to wrap this up quickly.

Silvester tore his gaze away from the bottles just long enough to look at Cale, and the smile that spread across his face.

"Yeah, yeah, why not," he said, reaching out to grab one of the spirit resonance bottles. "If you need more help just keep bringing these. Mann, I really envy you ducal houses. What can I even do with my titles? I can’t even sell them!"

Cale stared at him with a completely deadpan expression, one eyebrow raised slightly.

’The hell is this old man on about?’

The irony of Silvester complaining about his position—a man who was second only to the headmaster in terms of actual power—while hoarding expensive alcohol was so absurd that Cale couldn’t even formulate a proper response.

"Ok, I’m going," he said flatly, turning toward the door.

But before he could take more than two steps—

"Oi, wait."

Silvester’s voice cut through the air with sudden seriousness, completely different from his lazy drawl of moments before. The tone shift was so dramatic that Cale froze mid-step, immediately sensing that whatever came next was important.

He turned back slowly, meeting the old man’s gaze.

"What?"