"Fifty percent blue blood concentration. Not bad!"

The young man standing opposite Charles exclaimed, his voice carrying a mixture of surprise and admiration.

The speaker was Lumbia Turing, a figure as enigmatic as his lineage. He had long, dark hair cascading past his shoulders, tied into a loose ponytail. His black eyes shimmered with a melancholic depth, giving him the air of a noble poet burdened by secrets. But beneath that facade lay an extraordinary talent.

Lumbia, a member of the prestigious Turing family, was a fourth-order extraordinary being—a title that placed him in an elite tier at Violet Academy. Despite his family’s reputation for secrecy, particularly surrounding their extraordinary sequence, Lumbia had always been a friend to Charles, albeit a cryptic one.

"Two years," Lumbia remarked wistfully. "It’s been too long since we last met."

Charles smiled, shaking his head. "Blame the distance. It’s not like I could just stroll over with a first-sequence knight as my only escort."

Lumbia chuckled, then turned serious. "So, your fiancée is Angelina, that fiery girl? And now your ex-fiancée wants to cause trouble for you at the banquet? Honestly, Charles, you’ve accumulated a fair share of romantic entanglements!"

Charles groaned. "I’ve never even met either of them! I’m not the playboy you think I am."

Lumbia smirked knowingly. "Oh, I know Angelina. We crossed paths in last year’s Crown Cup."

Charles perked up. "Crown Cup? What’s that?"

"A team competition hosted by the empire’s top academies. It’s brutal but exhilarating." Lumbia’s eyes gleamed with nostalgia. "Angelina was relentless—a true warrior. Her strength, skill, and, well, her presence... She’s the kind of woman who leaves an impression. But," he added with a teasing grin, "she’s a year ahead of you, studying at Golden Rose College."

Charles sighed. "Well, that solves one mystery. At least I know where she is now."

"Speaking of teams," Lumbia continued, "it’s not easy to find good teammates for something like the Crown Cup. Need help?"

Charles scoffed, standing a bit taller. "I’ve got my team sorted, thank you very much. I’m not exactly desperate for help."

Lumbia feigned a look of betrayal, clutching his chest. "Charles, you’ve changed! You have other friends now, and I’m not your one and only!"

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"Knock it off, Lumbia," Charles said with a laugh. "I’ve only teamed up with people for practical reasons. Friendship’s still up in the air."

"Fine, fine," Lumbia relented. "But if you need anything, you know where to find me. Oh, and don’t worry about that Issa Wilton nonsense. I’ve got your back at the banquet."

"Her name’s Issa," Charles corrected with a smirk.

"Whatever," Lumbia waved dismissively, his long hair swaying dramatically. "Let’s focus on more important things—like finding out what she’s planning."

By noon, the banquet hall was a spectacle of opulence. Gold chains draped the walls like flowing streams of light, while crimson carpets absorbed the glow of chandeliers overhead. Tables of bronze and wood, carved with intricate patterns, stood laden with delicacies that looked too perfect to eat.

Charles entered, clad in a black coat with golden accents that shimmered like wheat fields under the sun. The golden eagle badge on his chest was a mark of his lineage, and his neatly combed hair gave him an air of authority beyond his years.

"Master Charles West, this way, please," a servant said, bowing as they guided him toward the center of the hall.

Scanning the room, Charles spotted familiar faces. He made his way to Shilin, who stood beside her brother Zorro.

"Master Charles," Zorro greeted warmly, extending a hand. "An honor to meet you. I’ve heard much about your talents."

Charles smiled politely, shaking hands. "The honor is mine. Your reputation precedes you."

Their pleasantries were interrupted by a playful tap on Charles’s shoulder. Turning, he found Lumbia grinning mischievously.

"Sorry, Zorro," Lumbia said. "I need to borrow Charles. Important business, you understand."

Zorro nodded graciously as Lumbia dragged Charles to a quieter corner.

"There," Lumbia whispered, pointing to a blonde woman surrounded by a group of nobles. "That’s Isa Wilton. Word is, she plans to bump into you and create a scandal. Something about ruining your reputation in front of the third prince and all these elites."

Charles raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "That’s her grand plan? Pathetic."

"Hey, don’t underestimate her," Lumbia warned. "She’s desperate, and desperation makes people unpredictable."

Charles smirked. "Let her try. I’ll handle it. But tell me, how did you even get this information?"

Lumbia flipped his hair dramatically. "Charm, of course. Her little sister was more than willing to talk."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Of course."

As the banquet began in earnest, Charles navigated the room with the ease of a seasoned diplomat. Every conversation, every clink of glasses, was a step in his silent strategy to network and solidify alliances.

Then, as if summoned by fate, she appeared.

Golden hair framed her angelic face, and a simple yet elegant gown accentuated her noble bearing. Her light blue eyes sparkled like frozen stars, and her every move exuded grace. She extended a gloved hand toward Charles, her lips curling into a serene smile.

"Long time no see, my brother," she said. "How’s college life treating you?"

Charles felt a chill despite her warm demeanor. Beneath her polished exterior lay the heart of a tormentor—his sister, Leia West.

Her arrival marked a shift in the atmosphere. Charles straightened, his polite smile unwavering.

"It’s been... an adjustment," he replied carefully.

Leia’s laugh was soft but carried an edge. "Good. I’d hate for you to grow too comfortable. After all, life at Violet Academy should be... stimulating."

Charles bit back a retort. He knew better than to rise to her bait, especially here.

But one thing was clear: the night had only just begun, and the game was far from over.