Z licked his lips, nonchalantly tasting the blood that stained them. A pile of snot-nosed nobles lay in a pile on the ground, meticulously stacked on top of each other.
They all seemed to think that they could beat him. After all, despite his physical strength, he was still an Ash. His elemental capabilities were practically nonexistent.
Well, Z didn’t mind. He would always welcome the chance to put filthy nobles in their place. Z glanced down at his most recent victim, who lay on the ground with blood gushing out of his broken nose.
He quietly nudged the boy’s familiar face with his shoe, a small grin making its way onto his face. Z especially enjoyed beating down the children of the filthy nobles who’d snickered at him in that room back then.
“ZEKIAH AKOL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” A familiar silvery voice ricocheted off the walls. Z sighed as the blonde boy approached. He raised an eyebrow at Aalto, speaking in a monotone, “It’s Z, Prince Floa.”
Aalto scowled at him, spitting out, “I’ll call you by your name when you call me by mine.” His eyes dragged over to the pile of nobles lying on the bloody floor, wincing at the gory sight.
Biting his lip worriedly, Aalto rushed over to the pile, pressing his index finger firmly under the chin of the noble at the top. Feeling a faint heartbeat, the boy let out a sigh of relief.
Z hummed, casually wiping his bloody glove with a handkerchief he’d swiped from one of his victims. “Don’t worry, Prince. They’re all alive… I was just having a bit of fun.”
Aalto seethed, whipping his head back to glare at Z. “Fun? Fun? This is the eighth time just this month that you’ve beaten innocent nobles half to death.” He jumped to his feet, shoving his face into Z’s with a sneer. “When will you have enough?”
Z shoved at his chest, shooting him a dangerous look. “Back off.” Aalto opened his mouth to retort, but Z beat him to the punch, scoffing. “They all attacked me first. I was simply defending myself.”
He raised an eyebrow at Aalto’s disbelieving glare. “What, did you expect me to let them have their way with me? Sit back and just take the beating like the other commoners do?”
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Aalto couldn’t respond. Instead, he pressed his lips into a thin line and stared at Z as if he were disappointed in a child.
Z raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for a reply. He didn’t get one. Aalto turned away from him and called out to a white-haired boy with caramel skin. “Icarus. Please, carry the injured to the infirmary.”
Z watched Icarus as his white eyes bled into a glowing green. Thick vines protruded from the ground, wrapping around the injured to immerse them in a small cocoon.
The cocoons filled with students sank back into the ground, a faint rumbling sound echoing through the halls as they moved through the underground tunnels.
Z turned away. He had to. Every time he saw that green glow, every time he saw him, he was reminded of House Phyllis and his old home.
To the populous, little to nothing was known about House Phyllis. Other noble families outright refused to even mention their names when asked. Public knowledge was limited to the fact that they conceived a long line of powerful Tipu and that they all shared the same striking features of white on white.
Z, however, knew the House almost intimately. For seven years, he lived there. And he remembered each and every one of them with striking clarity. Thinking about them made his heart shrink in a feeling he couldn’t quite name.
Stop thinking about it. Z clenched his fists, keeping his gaze trained on the blood-soaked tiles. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”
“Wait.” The boy looked up to see Aalto dissecting him with his gaze. He raised an eyebrow at the Wai. Aalto hummed with a worried tilt to his brow. “Are you planning on attending the Queen’s Guard examinations?”
Z pursed his lips in contemplation. Ah, yes. The Queen’s Guard. Those bastards. A group of royal knights who made up the army of the Queen, they were revered for their intellect, strength, and bravery. Upon turning 18, each citizen is given one shot to take the entry exams.
It was insanely competitive. Only the strongest and smartest in the nation would be admitted to the Guard. If a lucky soul was chosen, the money they would earn would be enough to feed their family for three lifetimes.
Now, Z had no family to feed. What he did have, however, was a burning desire to destroy the Guard from the inside out, and slit the throat of the one who led it.
He smiled at Aalto. “So what if I am?”
The other boy’s gaze narrowed. A suspicious conviction settled in his eyes. He sighed, walking off with a scowl. “Come on, Icarus. He’s not worth our time.”
Z scoffed. Typical holier-than-thou noble. He glanced at Icarus, beginning a sort of staring contest with the other boy. Icarus eerily watched him with blank eyes, as if something about Z troubled him.
Right after Z averted his eyes, Icarus finally spoke, nodding towards the scrapes on his arm. “You should get that checked out.”
His voice was deep like honey.
Z didn’t respond, only lifting his eyes to watch as Icarus walked away.