From Ruin to Reign

The entire arena was silent. Everyone stared at Marcus holding Dante's sword with just two fingers.

Dante's face turned red with anger and embarrassment. "You little brat! Let go of my sword!"

He tried to pull his weapon free, but Marcus's grip was like iron. The sword didn't move even a tiny bit.

Marcus looked at Dante with cold eyes. "Your swordsmanship is sloppy. Your stance is wrong. You rely on raw power instead of skill. If you faced a real master, you'd die in three moves."

"What did you say?" Dante's face turned purple with rage. A ten-year-old was lecturing him about swordsmanship?

Cornelius stood up from his seat, anger flashing in his eyes. "Boy, do you know who you're talking to? Apologize now, or..."

"Or what?" Marcus interrupted, still holding the sword. He looked at Cornelius without any fear. "Old man, you came here uninvited. You challenged us. Your student tried to cripple our fighter. And now you're angry because I stopped him? Where is your honor?"

Several people gasped. No one talked to Cornelius like that. The old man had powerful connections in the imperial capital.

Grandfather Octavius stood up quickly. He was torn between pride in Marcus's courage and fear of making an enemy. "Marcus, perhaps you should..."

"Grandfather, please let me handle this," Marcus said respectfully but firmly. "This man needs to learn respect."

Dante released his sword and jumped back. His whole body began glowing with energy. "I'll kill you for that insult!"

He drew his energy into his fists and charged at Marcus. His speed was impressive. Most people could barely see him move.

But Marcus just stood there calmly. At the last second, he sidestepped. Dante's fist hit only air.

"Too slow," Marcus said.

Dante spun around and attacked again, throwing punches and kicks. Each strike had enough power to break bones. But none of them hit Marcus. The boy dodged every attack without even trying hard.

"Stop moving and fight me!" Dante screamed, frustrated.

"Why? You're not worth drawing a sword for," Marcus said. His voice was calm, almost bored.

This made Dante even angrier. He channeled all his energy into his sword and unleashed his strongest technique. "Crimson Blade Strike!"

The sword glowed red with power. The attack was fast and deadly. Even Grandfather Octavius tensed, ready to intervene.

But Marcus simply raised his hand. When the glowing sword came down, he caught it again-this time with his bare palm.

The energy around Dante's sword fizzled and died. The red glow disappeared completely.

"Impossible!" Dante's eyes went wide with shock.

Marcus twisted his wrist slightly. The sword flew out of Dante's hand and clattered to the ground several feet away.

Before Dante could react, Marcus moved. He was suddenly in front of Dante, his hand raised.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Three hard slaps hit Dante's face, one after another. The sound echoed through the silent arena.

"That's for trying to cripple Julian," Marcus said coldly.

Then he kicked Dante's stomach. Not hard enough to kill, but hard enough to send the older boy flying backward. Dante crashed into the arena wall and slumped to the ground, gasping for air.

"And that's for disrespecting my grandfather's academy," Marcus added.

Cornelius's face turned so red it looked like he might explode. "You dare! Do you know who I am? My son works in the imperial palace! I'll destroy this entire academy for this insult!"

Marcus turned to face him. Despite being just a child, his presence felt heavy and intimidating. "Your son works at the palace? So what? Does that give you the right to bully others? Does that make your student's actions acceptable?"

He walked toward Cornelius slowly. "Let me tell you something, old man. True strength doesn't come from connections or family background. It comes from here.." he pointed to his chest, "and here." He pointed to his head.

"Your student is weak because you taught him to rely on arrogance instead of skill. He thought he could win through intimidation. But when faced with real strength, he crumbled like paper."

Several students whispered to each other, impressed by Marcus's words.

Cornelius clenched his fists, shaking with rage. "Boy, mark my words. This isn't over. You've made a powerful enemy today."

"I've made many enemies," Marcus said quietly. "One more doesn't scare me."

Cornelius helped Dante up and stormed out of the arena with his people following. Before leaving, he turned back. "Octavius, control your student. Next time we meet, there will be consequences."

After they left, the arena exploded with noise. Everyone was talking at once.

"Did you see that? Marcus stopped a third-class warrior!"

"He's only ten years old! How is that possible?"

"I always thought he was just a cleaner with no talent!"

Grandfather Octavius walked over to Marcus. His face showed a mix of emotions, surprise, confusion, and something like pride.

"Marcus, we need to talk. In my office. Now."

Marcus nodded. He looked at Julian, who was being helped by other students. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. Broken ribs, but they'll heal," one of the teachers said. "You saved him from much worse."

As Marcus walked toward the office with Grandfather Octavius, Lydia ran up beside him.

"Brother Marcus! Why didn't you tell me you were so strong?" she asked, excited and a little hurt.

Marcus looked at her with tired eyes. "I couldn't. I had my reasons."

"What reasons?"

He didn't answer. Some secrets had to stay hidden. Like the fact that he was the lost prince of the Aurelius Kingdom. Like the fact that he trained every night for revenge. Like the fact that hatred kept him going when exhaustion wanted him to quit.

In the office, Grandfather Octavius closed the door and looked at Marcus seriously.

"I can't sense your energy level," the old man said slowly. "You hide it too well. So I'll ask directly. What realm have you reached?"

Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then he decided on partial truth. "I'm at the peak of third-class warrior, Grandfather. Just one step away from breaking through to fourth-class."

Octavius's eyes went wide. "At ten years old? That's... that's almost impossible. Even the greatest geniuses in the empire don't reach that level before fifteen."

"I train every night while others sleep. I've read every book in your library. And I have my reasons for becoming strong."

"What reasons?" Octavius asked gently.

Marcus looked him in the eyes. "I made a promise to someone. A promise I cannot break. To keep it, I must become the strongest warrior in the world."

Octavius saw something in the boy's eyes that made him sad. This child had seen too much pain for someone so young.

"Very well. I won't push you to tell me everything. But Marcus, you've revealed yourself now. Word will spread about a ten-year-old genius. Are you ready for what comes next?"

Marcus smiled, but it was a cold smile. "Let them come. I'm not afraid."

What neither of them knew was that a servant had been listening outside the door. And that servant was paid by Cornelius to spy on the Iron Sword Academy.

By tomorrow, news of Marcus would reach the imperial capital. And in the palace, Cassian would hear about a ten-year-old prodigy with incredible talent.

The hunt for the lost prince was about to begin.