Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

“Hey, Sergio,” one of his teammates called, “shouldn’t you check on Terrence and Rook?”

Sergio barely glanced back. “Terrence is tough. He doesn’t need me fussing over him.”

The Olympic Sports Center was alive with chaos. The crowd, mostly Shiverstone locals, had exploded into celebration at Bloodstone Warfare’s championship. The stands were a sea of joy.

Not everyone was happy, though. A number of gamblers stormed out of the arena, cursing under their breath.

“Rigged! The whole damn match was rigged!”

“Fucking disgusting!”

Meanwhile, a plump man slipped quietly through the throng, hiding a grin. “Well, looks like nobody’s shitting on the Intelligence Bureau anymore.”

Bloodstone Warfare’s upset victory—and the Bureau’s earlier underestimation of Axel—had dented their reputation. But now, after this re-ranking and the outcome of the tournament, Xylon felt vindicated. The Bureau had called it right in the end.

“Perfect!” he muttered, giving his assistant a congratulatory pinch on the butt. But the texture felt wrong. He turned—and froze. His assistant was on the other side of the row, holding a drink.

Xylon stiffly twisted back—just in time to see a gray-haired old woman glaring at him, cane raised high.

“Pervert!”

Crack!

The blow left a red welt across his face. Clutching his cheek, Xylon slunk out, head down. Thankfully, the Olympic Sports Center was such a riot of noise that almost nobody noticed.

.....

In the cheapest seats of the Olympic Sports Center, Drayke was practically bouncing out of his chair.

“Fuck yes! Cassia, did you see that? Axel won! Hah! I’m rich!” He couldn’t stop smacking his lips with glee. He’d bet his entire semester’s allowance on Axel. One insane gamble, and now his winnings had multiplied several times over.

“When Axel comes out, dinner’s on me!” Drayke puffed out his chest, hands on his hips like he was a lord doling out favors.

Storm sighed and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s assuming Axel even has time to sit down for dinner.”

“Huh?” Drayke blinked, then followed Storm’s gaze toward the arena floor, where the crowd surged. Instructors and students from the most prestigious war academies were all flocking toward the Landscape Scroll.

Drayke deflated, muttering, “Right…”

Just three nobodies sitting in the nosebleeds, while Axel was rubbing shoulders with the people they dreamed about meeting.

His shoulders slumped, his voice low. “…Fine. Forget dinner. I’ll just send him a message to say hi.”

.......

Inside the private viewing room, the heads of several war academies were only now pulling themselves together.

“So… that flame around Axel—was it a fire spirit?” asked Principal Wade of Langford Academy.

All eyes turned to Tristan.

“Don’t look at me,” Tristan said, shaking his head. “But there aren’t many things in this world with that kind of effect. Judging by the flames at the end… yeah, I’d say it was a fire spirit.”

The room erupted in gasps.

Imran, the head of Cavalier’s Honor, let out a long sigh. “Mr. Tristan, you sly bastard. Hiding it so well. If I’m not mistaken, Axel’s carrying four C-class Original Instruments, plus a spatial crystal. And now a fire spirit on top of that? You must’ve poured a fortune into this boy.”

Grudging nods circled the table.

“Well, it is one of the Four Great War Schools. Their vaults are deeper than anyone else’s. Even if a kid isn’t born into nobility, they can just make up the difference with the school’s stockpile.”

“You’re mistaken.”

Tristan and William exchanged a glance. William chuckled. “Axel might be a Bloodstone Warfare student, but he has another identity.”

Curiosity sharpened the room. Another identity? A noble house, perhaps? But no—there were only a dozen or so true aristocratic families in Krythos, and none of their scions bore the name Axel.

Tristan’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “He’s a member of the Whisper Syndicate. Everything he carries, he earned through military merit.”

The room hissed as one.

“So young—and already with the Whisper Syndicate?!”

“With this many Original Instruments… how many missions must he have survived?”

Heads shook in disbelief.

Neville, principal of Hollow Fortress, sighed heavily. “Our students need to see this for themselves. The gap is staggering. Axel’s resilience, his patience, his mental steel—none of our other kids can compare.”

William straightened, his tone decisive. “After this martial tournament, we’ll take the discussion back to our schools. It’s time we stop holding them back. Let them join the battles beyond the walls.”

That proposal had been floated before, but more than half the principals had shot it down. Too dangerous, too soon. Why waste a promising seedling before it had matured? But after today, their tune was changing.

“No matter how strong their training, without real adaptability, they’ll still break in a real crisis.”

“And the mutant beast tide could arrive any day now. They need to bleed for real before it’s too late.”

As the room filled with low, grim agreement, William leaned toward Tristan. “Looks like we owe Axel for this. The proposal’s been gathering dust for years.”

Tristan said nothing at first. His gaze lingered on the Landscape Scroll, where Axel was stirring awake. At last, he murmured, “Axel… you’ve given me one hell of a surprise.”

.......

Landscape Scroll. Axel shook his head, slowly waking on a stone bed outside a small wooden cabin.

A slightly cheerful female voice complained, “This guy’s like a triathlete. Treating him alone burns more Force than a whole squad of people.”

Axel opened his eyes. A beautiful woman, lightly made-up, wearing a bright yellow dress and a round-top velvet black hat, blinked at him.

Axel had been wondering what she meant by triathlete—but the moment he saw her face, he forgot everything else.

“Have we… met before?” he blurted.

The woman froze for a moment. Yakov, Yara, and the others nearby, who had been watching Axel with concern, smiled knowingly.

“Axel,” one of them said, “I thought you were a decent guy… didn’t expect you to be this… hehe.”

They had been worried about him. This woman had been tending to Axel longer than anyone else—even longer than Terrence. Now that he was awake and making flirtatious remarks, they finally relaxed.

The woman flicked her hair and smiled. “Little brother, don’t flirt like that. It’s too old-fashioned. And don’t think about me—I don’t do younger brothers.”

Axel’s mind flickered. He was sure he’d seen her before, but she seemed… different. He couldn’t place exactly what had changed.

“Maybe I’m mistaken,” he said, shaking his head.

The woman narrowed her eyes, her easy smile fading slightly. “Have you really seen me before?”

Axel sensed the shift in her tone and frowned. She was about to speak when she gently removed her hat and wiped her face. Her makeup had faded, her voice deeper and calmer.

“Think about it… maybe we really have met.”

For a brief moment, her demeanor shifted from lively and frivolous to calm and composed. Even Yakov, Yara, and the others didn’t notice—but Axel did. Her full attention was suddenly on him.

Startled, he scratched his head. “Uh… not really. But you look better without the makeup.”

The woman, missing his subtle observation, instantly returned to her cheerful self. “Well, if you can talk, then talk more. Little brother, you’re almost healed—I’m done with you.”

Axel shifted slightly, still feeling some pain. “I don’t think I’m fully recovered yet.”

She waved a hand casually. “Do it yourself. You can heal yourself—why should I do it all for you?”

Axel was speechless. But he quickly applied Abundant on himself. Slowly, the pain and discomfort faded.

The group moved closer, regarding him like some rare creature.

“Axel, you’re younger than me, but I want to acknowledge you as my big brother. Is that okay?” Yakov asked sincerely.

“That’s… not good,” Axel muttered, rubbing his chin helplessly.

Richard stepped forward, scowling at Yakov. “Exactly. Shameless! You’re so old, and you’re treating him like this?”

He planted himself beside Axel with a righteous air. “You’re right, big brother.”

Axel: “…”