Chapter 254: Chapter : 254 : Commotion In The Hall!

The hall erupted into pure pandemonium the instant Ricor’s shriek faded.

Commoners exploded first.

A cluster of boys near the back started shouting over each other.

“Dude—did you see that? Colors everywhere. Crimson, gold, black!”

“Unquantifiable. Limitless. Ricor called him a god-touched monster. A commoner!”

“Bro, I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to make the nobles shut up. And it’s him. Aiden Nightshade just broke their whole system.”

“Imperial level? Elarion was imperial. This guy just… broke the scale!”

One freckled kid punched his friend’s “I’m telling you—he’s the one. The Child of Prophecy everyone whispers about. We finally have someone who can stand toe-to-toe with those Voss pricks.”

“Think he’ll take commoner side in duels? I’d pay to see him freeze Elarion’s smug face.”

“Pay? I’d sell my boots to watch that.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

Another boy, taller, laughed loud enough to echo off the columns. “I’ve been taking shit from nobles since I could walk. Now? Now we’ve got someone who can look Elarion Voss in the eye and make him blink first.”

“Lord Aiden,” a wiry kid whispered reverently. “We should call him Lord Aiden.”

“Lord Aiden Nightshade,” another repeated, tasting the name. “Sounds right. Sounds like it belongs on banners.”

Across the commoner section, the girls were already in full gossip frenzy—heads together, voices high and breathless.

“Oh my god, did you see that light show? Crimson and gold and black swirling like a storm? I almost came just watching.”

“He’s so calm about it too. Just walked up, put his hand down—boom. The vulture nearly shattered.”

“Look at him with his wives. All those gorgeous girls hanging on him. I’d kill to be one of them.”

A petite brunette with freckles across her nose sighed dreamily. “I mean… imagine being his wife. Waking up next to that. Feeling those hands on you.”

Another girl—curvy, dark curls—fanned herself. “Lord Aiden. I’m calling him Lord Aiden from now on. If he ever looks my way… I’m dropping to my knees. No questions.”

“Think he takes more wives?” a redhead whispered, biting her lip. “I’d share. I’d share so hard.”

“Share? Girl, I’d fight you for the spot.I want in.”

One girl with short black hair fanned herself. “Think he takes applications? I can cook. I can fight. I can… other things.”

Another snorted. “You’d faint if he touched your hand. But seriously—if he ever needs a more—I’m volunteering.”

“I’d share. As long as I get a turn.”

They dissolved into giggles, stealing glances at Aiden—now surrounded by his harem.

On the noble side, the mood was ice-cold disbelief.

A cluster of noble boys—velvet blazers, gold pins, sneering lips—huddled together.

“No way. Ricor malfunctioned. Has to be.”

“Unquantifiable? Limitless? That’s not a reading. That’s a glitch.”

“Elarion got imperial—gold, steady, perfect. This commoner trash gets a rainbow vomit show and suddenly he’s god-touched? Please.”

“He’s cheating. Bound artifacts. Blood rituals. Something dirty.”

“Look at him over there—surrounded by those freaks. Beast girls, demons, whatever. Probably sacrificed virgins to get that reading.”

His friend nodded furiously. “Exactly. No way a mud-blood outscales Voss blood. It’s an insult to the academy.”

A third hissed, “If this stands, every peasant will think they can climb. We can’t let that happen.”

Across from them, noble girls were venomous.

A tall blonde with pearl pins crossed her arms. “There’s no way he’s stronger than Sir Elarion. No possible way.”

Her friend nodded furiously. “Silver for Lady Elara—perfect. Gold for Lord Elarion—imperial. That commoner got… what? A light show? Ricor was probably joking.”

“Exactly. The vulture loves drama. He wanted to stir things up.”

“But the colors… crimson, black, violet. It looked real.”

“Fake. Has to be fake.”

A third girl shivered. “Even if it’s real… he’s still a commoner. Dirty blood. Dirty magic. He’ll never be noble.”

“Never. Sir Elarion is perfection. No commoner trash can touch that.”

“I’d rather die than admit some harem-leading peasant is stronger.”

They huddled closer, voices dropping to venomous whispers.

Elara Voss clung to Elarion’s arm like a lifeline—fingers white-knuckled. Her ice-blue eyes were wide, furious, disbelieving.

“Dear Brother,” she hissed, voice trembling with rage. “It’s a mistake. It has to be. You’re the strongest. You’ve always been the strongest. That… that filthy commoner can’t—”

She cut off, swallowing hard.

Elarion didn’t answer immediately.

He stared across the hall at Aiden—calm, surrounded by adoring wives, one eyebrow raised in faint amusement.

No hate in Elarion’s gaze. No envy.

Just cold, clinical interest.

Like a strategist sizing up a new piece on the board.

Elara shook his arm. “Brother. Say something. Tell me it’s wrong.”

Elarion finally spoke—low, measured.

“We’ll see.”

Ela Voss, her lavender hair falling over one eye, amethyst gaze locked on Aiden.

Her lips parted.

“H-he’s stronger than my brother…”

The words slipped out—barely audible, meant for no one.

All her life Elarion had been the unreachable mountain. Perfect. Unassailable. She’d never even dreamed of catching him—only of standing in his shadow without shame.

Now that mountain had been cracked open by a commoner.

Someone without crest, without lineage, without apology.

Her cheeks flushed—hot, sudden, unconscious. Her heart hammered in a way it never had before.

Not fear.

Not jealousy.

Something warmer. Something dangerous.

Curiosity. Admiration. A tiny, forbidden spark of want.

Professor Elowen Voss was breathing like she’d run a mile.

Her emerald eyes were wild—denial, fury, panic warring across her aristocratic features. She marched toward Ricor’s platform, heels clicking like gunshots.

“Sir Lano,” she said, voice tight, “surely there is a mistake. A commoner cannot be that strong. The crystal must have malfunctioned.”

Ricor’s empty sockets somehow managed to look offended.

“Do you doubt me? Me? Ricor De Lano, Keeper of the Mana Veil, He Who Measured Emperors?”

Elowen flinched.

“N-no. I just… It can’t be. He’s a commoner, no lineage—”

Ricor’s beak clacked once—sharp.

“Lineage? Child, I measure souls, not pedigrees. And that boy’s soul is a bonfire in a library. If you want to question my judgment, then think twice.”

Elowen opened her mouth. Closed it. Her hands shook at her sides.

Mira Hale watched from the side, arms folded, a slow, radiant smile spreading across her face.

She didn’t say a word.

But her hazel eyes shone with something close to joy.

Change.

Finally—real change.

Elowen looked at Mira.

Her hazel eyes sparkled with hope.

“Aiden Nightshade,” she murmured, too quiet for most to hear. “What are you?”

Elowen rounded on her.

“You’re happy about this? A commoner outranking Voss blood? Aren’t you?”

Mira’s smile didn’t waver.

“I’m happy there’s finally someone who might change things. Someone who doesn’t care about blood. Someone who just… is.”

Elowen’s face twisted.

“This changes nothing. He’s still common filth. He’ll fall. They always do.”

Mira tilted her head.

“Will he?”

Aiden Nightshade stood at the center of his wives’ circle, calm as ever.

Luna nuzzled his neck. “Master… you broke them.”

Thristle grinned feral. “Fucking right he did.”

Nyxion purred against his chest. “Heart Lord…”

Lysandra whispered, “They’re terrified. Good.”

Arisha cracked her knuckles. “Let them come. We’ll break more than their pride.”

Vegia peeked up shyly. “Y-you were amazing, Husband…”

Nayla laughed. “They’re gonna shit themselves for weeks.”

Valeforia smirked. “Let them hate. We’ll enjoy it.”

Selvara’s wings rustled. “The balance just shifted.”

Xylendra murmured, “I feel lucky.”

Zerra bounced. “Heri! Hero!”

Venya rumbled happily. “Venya’s Lord… strongest.”

Aethoniel clung to his arm, blushing. “H-Husband… everyone’s looking…”

Aiden just smiled—small, dangerous.

Liana stepped closer, hazel eyes gleaming.

“Aiden Nightshade,” she said softly, almost reverently. “What are you?”

He met her gaze.

Then looked past her—at the stunned nobles, the hopeful commoners, the furious Elowen, the calculating Elarion, the flushed Ela.

And answered quietly.

“Someone who’s done playing small.”

—

Mira Hale stepped forward, raising both hands in a gentle but firm gesture that cut through the roaring chaos like a cool breeze through fire.

“Students,” she called, voice warm yet carrying effortlessly across the vast hall. “I know that was… a shock. But let’s calm down. We still have more trials to go through. The day’s far from over.”

She turned her head slightly—smile wide, genuine, sparkling with barely-contained delight—and let her gaze slide sideways to Elowen Voss.

Elowen stood rigid, emerald eyes narrowed to slits, lips pressed into a bloodless line. The disgust rolling off her was almost visible. Mira’s smirk deepened just a fraction—enough to make Elowen’s knuckles whiten around the edge of her plaid skirt.

“Now,” Mira continued brightly, “only his wives are left. Sir Ricor, if you may.”

Ricor’s crystal flared bright, excited blue. The vulture head bobbed so enthusiastically his stone neck creaked.

“Certainly! Certainly! Oh, what a treat—what a feast of beauties!”

He swiveled slowly, empty sockets sweeping over the crimson-and-gold cluster surrounding Aiden like a living crown.

“Such radiance… such power wrapped in such delicious curves. Whom shall I call first?”

His gaze locked.

“Lysandra Nightshade!”

A ripple of surprise ran through the hall.

Lysandra blinked—once—then stepped forward without hesitation.

She placed her palm on the crystal.

The orb pulsed once—soft silver-green—then bloomed into a radiant, faceted dome of light that wrapped around her like a protective shell. Tiny crystalline shards floated in the air, refracting the chandelier glow into rainbows.

Ricor’s beak fell open in cartoonish awe.

“Purity: 87%! Capacity: High—Tier A+! Primary affinity: Crystalline Barrier Dominion—absolute defense specialization! Single-spell mastery, but that spell is noble-grade! Remarkable… for one so young.”

He paused.

Then—very quietly, only in Lysandra’s mind—his voice whispered, intimate and serious.

*Princess… the Council has ordered silence on your royal status. I will keep your Grimclaw identity secret. No one will hear it from me. Your secret remains yours.*

Lysandra’s eyes widened fractionally. She gave the tiniest nod.

The hall, however, had already detonated.

“Noble level?!” a commoner boy shouted. “She’s a commoner’s wife—and she’s noble strength?!”

Commoner girls squealed.

“Of course he did! Look at her—she’s stunning!”

Nobles hissed.

“A goblin being a noble class?” one sneered. “Still a goblin.”

Elowen’s face twisted further.

Ricor bobbed happily.

“Step down, crystalline jewel! Next!”

She took her id.

His gaze swept again.

“Thristle Nightshade!”

Thristle bounded forward.

She slapped her palm on the crystal like she was high-fiving it.

The orb flared deep crimson-gold—martial, raw, blazing.

Ricor crowed.

“Purity: 68%! Capacity: High—Tier A! No mana channeling detected—pure physical apex! Martial dominance: unmatched in close combat!”

Thristle grinned, flexing.

“Damn right!”

Commoners cheered louder.

Nobles muttered.

“What is happeing here today?.”

Ricor continued—relentless.

“Arisha Nightshade!”

Arisha strode up.

Orange-red flare—sharp, disciplined.

“Purity: 75%! Capacity: High—Tier A! general class! Sword mastery! Next!”

Commoner excitement grew.

“She’s a general class?”

“Lord Aiden’s harem is insane!”

“Venya Nightshade!”

Venya sauntered forward.

She placed her hand down almost lazily.

The crystal roared.

Deep scarlet-black-gold explosion—wings of phantom flame unfurled behind her for a heartbeat.

Ricor shrieked.

“Veythar dragon— in human form! First in history! Purity: 94%! Capacity: Limitless—Tier S+! Stronger than any living dragon lineage in centuries! Step down before I melt, you gorgeous inferno!”

The hall lost its mind.

“She’s stronger than the Voss family?!”

Commoners roared.

Nobles recoiled.

Elowen gripped the platform edge so hard her nails cracked marble.

Elara whispered furiously to Elarion, “Stronger than us?!”

Elarion only watched—eyes narrowing.

Ricor kept going.

“Selvara Nightshade!”

Selvara glided up.

“Purity: 90%! Capacity: Limitless—Tier S! Demon general class. Strength surpasses Voss peak. Silent. Deadly. Next!”

Ricor said nothing aloud about Pale Hands or Demon King army—kept that locked tight.

Nobles shifted uneasily.

“Another one stronger than us?”

“Nayla Nightshade!”

Nayla stepped up.

The crystal pulsed midnight-blue-silver.

Ricor gasped.

“Ascended Jin Sovereign—unheard class! Created by the Almighty God himself! Purity: 93%! Capacity: Limitless—Tier S+! Stronger than Voss, weaker than her husband. Next!”

The hall froze.

Jin Sovereign.

Which meant…

Everyone’s gaze snapped to Aiden.

If Nayla—Ascended Jin Sovereign—was stronger than Voss… and she was weaker than Aiden…

How strong was Aiden really?

Commoners screamed.

“Lord Aiden’s stronger than a god-made being?!”

Nobles went pale.

Elowen staggered back one step.

Mira’s smile grew wider.

Ricor continued—voice gleeful.

“Valeforia Nightshade!”

Valeforia stepped up.

White light surrounded her

“Purity: 62%! Capacity: Mid—Tier B! Demon class— Weak. Next!”

Nobles exhaled in relief.

“Finally. Something normal.”

“Xylendra Nightshade!”

Similar Low-mid reading.

Relief from nobles again.

“Zerra Nightshade!”

Zerra bounced up.

White light surrounded her.

“Purity: 15%! Capacity: Low—Tier C+! Goblin commoner— no potential for growth! Next!”

Nobles sighed audibly.

“Thank the god. At least one’s weak.”

“Aethoniel Nightshade!”

Aethoniel fluttered forward.

She placed her hand on the crystal.

The orb shimmered gold-amber—then locked.

Ricor’s voice dropped to a reverent whisper.

“Bee Girl Queen… locked potential detected. Purity currently suppressed! Step down, little queen.”

Aethoniel squeaked, wings fluttering, and hurried back to Aiden—burying her face in his chest.

The hall was beyond chaos now.

Commoners chanted.

“Lord Aiden! Lord Aiden!”

Nobles stood in stunned silence.

Elowen’s face was ashen.

Mira laughed softly—joyful, triumphant.

—

END OF Chapter : 254 : COMMOTION IN THE HALL!

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