Ascension of the Dark Seraph

Lucivar stepped out of the car and scanned the Trading Union main branch building.

Per usual, the place was crowded with people coming in and out even though it was still early.

He was completely oblivious to what his actions caused.

Earlier, he wasn't acting cold to Sabrina.

He was simply in a hurry since he had meetings with the Trading Union early in the morning until noon, and then another meeting with the Blessed Hand Clan right after—the advisor of the clan was going to meet with him directly.

It wasn't his intention to seem cold, but then again, he was oblivious to what Sabrina did.

"Man, it's very crowded. I should've suggested the meeting to be somewhere else," Lucivar sighed.

Regardless, since he was here, there's nothing he could do about it.

Guided politely by the driver, who was also the assistant, Lucivar headed to the meeting room.

Under everyone's gaze, he ascended to the upper floors.

Not even the guards guarding the stairs stopped him, or even as much as asked for his identification.

Many wondered who he was, mainly because he was very young to hold any standing in the city.

Then again, he could be the descendant of an influential faction.

However, as he ascended to the third floor and then the fourth floor, the people who saw him grew increasingly surprised. People who could access the second floor, there were thousands of them, but the third—and the fourth? The number of people who had access to those floors grew smaller

On the fourth floor, people were casting him weird and judgmental looks.

All of them were influential, but none of them recognized Lucivar.

"Right this way," the assistant smiled politely, gesturing to a door at the end of the hall.

Lucivar nodded and followed behind.

Nearing the door, a group of people suddenly came from the corner, and they were loud.

Not that Lucivar cared, but he cared when this group was blocking the way.

"Are you sure about this?" A beautiful, and well-kept woman asked hesitantly. "It's too expensive…"

"What are you saying? Don't be shy!" A blonde-haired, charming guy, young and sparkling, laughed in a hearty manner. He draped his arm over the woman's shoulder and continued, pointing at the displayed items around the room, "I would buy anything for you, even the entire floor if you want!"

"Can you buy me too?" Another woman stepped forward with starry eyes.

Then, another woman hugged the man's arm, "What about me? You promised last month to buy me."

"Ladies! Calm down, I'm not going anywhere!" the man laughed and hugged them all.

For the rest of the people in the group, mostly guys—they could only force out a green smile.

All of them were green with envy.

After all, women, status, and power are the only things any young man wants.

And the blonde man has all three of them.

"Excuse me," A polite-looking man in a suit and tie intervened. "Can you please make way?"

"Hmm? Who are you?" the blonde man raised an eyebrow and asked.

Just then, before the assistant could answer, Lucivar clicked his tongue, "Am I not getting more escort than you?" He asked, evidently unpleased—that a group could even block his way like this. "Hurry up and get these losers out of the way."

"Ah, yes," the assistant smiled apologetically before turning to the blonde man again.

But as he did, the blond man already walked past him and stood in front of Lucivar.

"May I know who you are?" the blond man asked, and as he said that, his aura flared like a sizzling heat that distorted the air. A black and cold energy, not ether, but his attribute—showing that he was a strong Chrysalis-rank Hybrid despite his young age. "I don't like the tone you're using."

"Look at this loser…" Lucivar sneered as he, too, activated his attribute.

Slowly, golden ether began to seep out of his body.

Then, the color changed, evolved into a mixture of unsettling black and pristine white.

He, too, was a Chrysalis-rank Hybrid.

Considering that Lucivar looked young, younger than the blonde man, this level of power was shocking.

Even the blond man was surprised to see that Lucivar's aura was pushing back on his aura—worse, it was even swallowing his attribute greedily. As he blinked, he saw Lucivar was smirking at him, a smirk that was nothing more but trouble.

Suddenly, Lucivar's muscles twitched as he leaned to attack.

Not expecting Lucivar to actually attack, the blond man leaned away, but he slipped and fell to the floor.

As he raised his gaze to look at Lucivar, he blinked in shock and realized that it was a fake.

It was a false charge—Lucivar was only scaring him.

Lucivar's lips curled into a mocking smile, holding back laughter.

Then, he pointed at the blond man who was still on the floor and in shock, "What a wuss…"

Seeing this from the side, the assistant rubbed his chest and sighed, thinking that they would fight.

Fortunately, that didn't happen.

Lucivar walked past the blond man and his group nonchalantly, while the assistant chased after him.

For a second there, the group was stunned.

Normally, the blond man was the one doing the bullying, and this time would be no different. But things didn't go as expected. Instead of humiliating Lucivar, he was the one who got put in his place. Now, he was lying on the ground like a disgraced mutt.

In that moment, the blond man saw a change in the eyes of the women who adored her.

Something changed before they turned away to look at Lucivar's back.

It was only then did he realized what had happened.

"You son of a bitch!" He sprang up and screamed at Lucivar. "Do you know—who I am?! I'm a student and also a top-ranker—from the Vanguard institute! If you know what's good for you, come back here and apologize to me!"

"Vanguard Institute?" Lucivar stopped—and glanced over his shoulder. "I guess I'll see you in the South Hues Tournament… that is if you are even strong enough to be a participant. But if I were you, I'd drop out," He smiled, a cheeky one. "You don't want to cross me."

As he said that, he opened the door leading to the fifth floor and disappeared.

On the other hand, the blonde man frowned.

"South Hues Tournament?" He mumbled before he looked around. "We're in the Trading Union, he's a participant, and he can even access the fifth floor, which even I couldn't go into. I see…" The blond man looked at the door again. "He's the Trading Union's champion, Lucivar Asarafall. I should tell this to the seniors."

Lucivar reached the fifth floor and found himself in a massive circular hall.

Around the place, there were about twenty items displayed in reinforced glass cases.

Unlike the ones he saw in the academy's treasury, the items here were of way higher quality.

One that stuck out was a spellbook for an Ethereal-class spell.

It was probably one of the most valuable things that the Sunhold City possessed.

"Right this way, Sir Lucivar," the assistant gestured to another door.

Lucivar nodded and stepped inside, only to find a meeting room reserved only for him.

It exuded restrained opulence—black marble floors veined with red, walls decorated in velvet shadows.

At its heart stood two sleek, crimson-trimmed sofas facing each other, a single obsidian table set exactly between them. To the side, a lone high-backed chair, carved from enchanted wood and inlaid with ruby glass, waited in silence.

One look told Lucivar everything—this wasn't a place for pleasantries.

It was where fortunes shifted hands and hushed decisions shaped power.

Not even restraining himself, Lucivar took a seat on the very soft sofa and stretched his arms to the side.

Sitting on such a high-quality sofa, he felt like a King.

"Sir Dullan is going to be with you shortly," the assistant informed. "In the meantime…"

Before he could finish his sentence, Lucivar had already cut him.

"In the meantime, bring Angel," He demanded. "Is it too early for her? No, that shouldn't be the case."

Considering Angel's strictness, it wasn't like her to be late.

She was the one assigned to handle him, and he expected her to be here instead of this assistant.

"Angel has clocked in since four in the morning, but she asked me to pick you up," The assistant replied. He seemed to also be confused about the reason Angel sent him instead of picking Lucivar herself. "I will tell her you called for her."

"Do that." Lucivar nodded and waved his hand dismissively.

Once he was left alone, Lucivar leaned his head back on the sofa.

"I did come here earlier than I should out of pettiness, so it's fine waiting for a bit." Lucivar then looked around before a smile crept to his lips—as he squeezed the sofa with his hands. "That being said, man, being rich has its perks. I want a place like this after I win the tournament."

Moments later.

It has been ten minutes.

Lucivar has only been drinking the refreshment brought for him, but soon heard heels clacking, and the sound stopped for a good moment in front of the door. Then, he turned to the door—and saw a woman entering after knocking.

Naturally, this woman was Angel.

Angel was wearing her formal, office uniform with a black suitcase in her hand.

Before the tournament began, Lucivar had assigned her a few tasks—intelligence gathering, mostly, it was to better prepare himself. Her reports must be in that black briefcase. But now, his focus shifted the moment she approached.

Angel's breaths were shallow—she must've come running when she knew he was calling for her.

Her face was artfully touched with makeup, more than usual, Lucivar realized.

Not enough to be garish or inappropriate, but enough for him to notice.

First, her lips were a bold, cherry red—straddling the line of what might be considered appropriate in a professional setting. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, lending her a flushed vitality that made her appear more radiant than usual.

Then his gaze drifted lower.

Her shirt has its top two buttons undone, revealing just enough to invite a second glance.

Since the second button was not undone properly, she must've opened them recently by the door.

But the most surprising part was her skirt—she wore a skirt that rose just above the knee.

A daring choice for someone so typically precise and professional.

She wasn't just delivering a report. She had dressed for him.

And that realization made Lucivar smirk inside.

'Is she trying to impress, no, seduce me?' He chuckled inside. 'I got her wrapped around my fingers. If only Ravenna could be more like her, proactive like her, it would be perfect. But Dullan's assistant, the assistant of a powerful person in the whole city, doing this to get my attention? Well, that I like too.'