Eden System - Rise of the Villain Prince

"Just giving you a warning," Lyra said indifferently as she withdrew her magic.

Thud!

Lucien collapsed to his knees, gasping heavily, his face pale as a sheet.

"Lathel is my disciple. I… will not allow anyone to slander him. Do you understand?" Lyra frowned, her gaze filled with disdain and killing intent.

Lucien gritted his teeth. He wasn't angry at Professor Lyra—in fact, what he thought in his heart was entirely different: 'Damn it! Even a professor has been fooled by him. Lathel… you really are a bastard.'

'But soon enough, I'll rip off that filthy, deceitful mask of yours, so everyone can see who you really are.'

Lucien took a deep breath. He knew clearly that his current situation was unfavorable.

Lyra didn't trust him, and the more he spoke, the more she would come to hate him. Exposing Lathel's fake persona would become all the more difficult.

"Professor Lyra, what do you think you're doing?" Irelia suddenly shouted, her eyes blazing with anger. "How dare you attack a student?"

"Don't you know he's about to become your personal disciple?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Irelia realized her slip and immediately covered her mouth with her hand.

"Ah! So… I'm the one who's been deceived by you all," Lyra said. Her tone was indifferent, but her voice was brimming with murderous intent.

Although Lucien didn't fully understand what was going on, he knew one thing for sure… everything was turning against him.

He took a deep breath, bowed his head, and spoke politely: "I'm sorry, Professor Lyra. Due to a small misunderstanding, I behaved inappropriately toward Lathel. I sincerely apologize."

Lyra frowned, about to say something, when a familiar voice rang out.

"Hahaha… Lyra, you heard him yourself. A professor pressuring a student too harshly isn't a good thing, you know."

Lyra looked toward the entrance gate. There, a middle-aged man in a gray cloak was slowly approaching.

"Marlon!" Lyra frowned and muttered.

"It's Vice Dean Marlon, to be precise," Marlon said with a smile, correcting her address.

Marlon didn't pay Lyra any more attention. His eyes fell on Lucien, filled with satisfaction and warmth. "You're the grandson of Lord Theobald, aren't you? As expected… very handsome, and with a strong sense of justice—just like your grandfather."

Lucien and Irelia were both stunned. They hadn't expected the Vice Dean to know Lucien's grandfather.

"Vice Dean, you know my grandfather?" Lucien asked in confusion.

Marlon nodded gently. "Not just know him—your grandfather once saved my life."

"Ah!" Lucien now understood why he had been able to so quickly become the personal disciple of a professor.

Talents were not rare in this Academy, but to become the personal disciple of a Professor required fulfilling many conditions.

And the most crucial condition was… that the Professor must want to accept you as a personal disciple.

However, judging by Lyra's expression, Lucien didn't think she had agreed to take him as her disciple.

'Looks like… she was forced to accept me by the Vice Dean,' Lucien thought to himself.

After all, he wasn't a fool—he had realized why Lyra held such a strong bias against him.

'Damn it!' Lucien cursed inwardly. 'Lathel is slandering me, and now the Vice Dean has shoved me into this awkward position—what am I supposed to do?'

Indeed, if he could rely on his talent and potential to draw Professor Lyra's attention, everything would've been much easier.

But Morlan had thrown him into a situation that only deepened Lyra's distaste for him, putting him in a dilemma.

"Don't worry!" Lilith suddenly spoke up. "As long as your performance is dazzling enough, she'll definitely notice you."

"Yes, I understand, Master," Lucien replied, then added as if suddenly recalling something, "You will always be my Master."

"All right, all right. I believe in your character," Lilith said with a laugh.

"Vice Dean…" Lucien now spoke up. "Regarding the matter of choosing a Professor for me, I feel that—"

"Aiz!" Morlan immediately cut him off and said with a smile, "Don't worry. Just leave everything to me."

With that, he looked toward Lyra and smiled. "Lyra, you've seen how proper and respectful he is. I can guarantee… he's a fine young man."

"At the very least…" Morlan glanced toward Lathel, who stood beside two beautiful women, his eyes filled with scorn and mockery. "Lucien is better than a certain useless fellow who only knows how to surround himself with women."

"You—"

"Master!" Lyra was about to speak up, but Lathel cut her off immediately.

"Lathel, you…" Lyra looked at him in confusion.

But he simply shook his head, then turned to face Morlan. He placed one hand over his chest and bowed with noble etiquette. "This is our first meeting, Vice Dean. I am the Prince of the Kingdom of Terith. My name is Lathel."

"Huh!" Morlan snorted disdainfully, showing no intent to return the greeting. "Sorry, even if you're a prince, that means nothing here."

"This place… does not accept the useless."

"That's enough!" Lyra shouted at that moment. "Vice Dean, are you insulting my disciple?"

"Hahaha…" Morlan laughed loudly. "This isn't an insult. I'm merely stating the truth."

"Prince Lathel—he's well-known among the surrounding kingdoms. A kind prince, yes… but useless."

"How laughable. In this world, what does kindness even matter if he's just a useless man?"

"Vice Dean!" Lyra growled, her voice laced with killing intent and fury.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

At that moment, winds from all directions surged toward Lyra. The very space around them became like a swamp—heavy and filled with chilling cold.

"Ack!" Lucien gritted his teeth as he felt his body growing heavier and heavier, as if sinking into an infinite mire.

He tried to breathe—but couldn't.

Clenching his jaw, Lucien attempted to circulate his Chimera Assimilation Method. However, just as his energy tried to shield him from the external pressure—

BAM!

"What?!" Lucien was startled as his energy was crushed by an invisible force.

Blood streamed from his nose, and his face gradually turned pale.

Morlan frowned and lightly waved his hand.

BAM!

A burst of air pressure exploded outward, forming a whirlwind that swept across the area.

"Lyra, you've gone too far," Morlan said with a frown.

Lyra, unwilling to back down, responded angrily, "Too far? If I let others insult my disciple without responding, then I don't deserve to be a professor."

Morlan's eyes narrowed, a hint of killing intent and a battle-ready aura flaring within them like twin burning flames.

Silence…

The atmosphere suddenly turned still. No one spoke. Only the sound of breathing and pounding hearts remained.

But everyone could feel it—an overwhelming tension so thick it reeked of gunpowder.

It was as if the tiniest spark would detonate everything, reducing this place to a barren wasteland.

The air was suffocating—until suddenly...

"Hahahaha… hahaha…" Morlan burst into loud laughter, then said, "Lyra, if you're determined to make Lathel your personal disciple, he must have something exceptional."

"So let's make a bet. If he can truly pass the third floor of the Trial Tower, I won't object to you taking him as your disciple."

"Furthermore, I'll reward him with a bottle of Lunar Pill and a Rank C weapon."

"However, if he fails to pass the third floor, then I'll immediately expel him from the student list and kick him out of the Academy. After all, there's no place here for the useless."

"You—" Lyra gritted her teeth.

"I accept!" Lyra hadn't yet spoken when Lathel's voice rang out.

He glanced at Lyra, reassuring her with his warm smile. Then he turned to Morlan, bowed slightly, and said respectfully, "I, the Prince of the Kingdom of Terith, accept this wager. However, I believe it is still not enough."

"Hm?! What do you mean?" Morlan frowned, his disdainful gaze toward Lathel now tinged with confusion.

Lathel smiled and said, "Since this is a wager, let's raise the stakes. If I fail to pass the third floor of the Trial Tower, not only will I leave the Academy, but I shall also kneel at its gates for three days."

"Your Highness!"

"Lathel!"

Both Selvia and Mira were startled by Lathel's words. Lyra was equally surprised, but upon seeing the confidence on his face, she fell silent and said nothing more.

Morlan, on the other hand, looked mildly surprised for a moment before breaking into a mocking smile. "Hahaha… then I shall raise the stakes as well."

"If you manage to pass the third floor, not only will you receive everything I previously mentioned, but I'll also grant you a slot on the list to enter the Ancient Ruins."

"The Ancient Ruins?"