Rise Of The Villain : In a World Ruled By Anomalies

Chapter 156 - 155 : End of the Entrance Exam (5)

Inside the VIP hall of Celestias Academy, another unbelievable battle was about to erupt.

Not on the screen.

Between the people watching it.

A few moments earlier, the atmosphere had already shifted the moment Arthur began dominating the entrance exam feed. What had started as casual interest from nobles and academy staff had turned into a suffocating silence.

No one quite believed what they were seeing.

As if the rules that governed talent and bloodlines did not apply to him.

Adrian Imperius did not blink.

His eyes were glued to the main projection crystal, jaw clenched, fingers digging into the armrest of his chair. The light from the screen reflected in his pupils, making them look almost feverish.

He stared at Arthur like he wanted to reach through the image, grab the boy by the collar, and shake the truth out of him—what happened after he was cast out of the Imperius family, what he had awakened, what he had become.

All around them, the VIP hall had gone silent.

No one was laughing or whispering anymore. Not the nobles, not the old monsters of various families, not even the arrogant prodigies sitting in the back rows. They watched as examinees who had been considered untouchable until now were eliminated one by one.

On the screen, Liana’s light faded.

Then Julia’s.

Then Isabella’s.

Then Diana’s.

Each flash of white made the hall feel smaller.

Oliver Blackthorn, head of the Blackthorn family and Victor’s father, finally broke the silence.

He leaned back slightly in his seat, gaze still on the projection, and spoke in a clear, carrying voice.

"Miss Athena," Oliver said, turning his head toward the front. "Who do you think will win?"

The question cut through the quiet like a blade.

Eyes turned toward Athena, the headmistress of Celestia Academy, seated at the center of the hall. Her face was still covered by a thin veil, concealing her expression, but the aura of calm around her remained unchanged.

Oliver’s lips curled.

"It seems your disciple is out of the game," he continued. "Damian Stromborn—the child you trained personally. Ever since you took him under your wing, he became undefeatable."

He raised a brow.

"But it looks like that streak is about to break."

The eyes of the hall moved from Athena to the screen and back again, waiting for her response.

Athena’s voice, when it came, was soft but carried easily.

"It seems," she said, "you do not feel even a little bad that your son has been eliminated, Lord Blackthorn."

Oliver smiled faintly.

"He needed that defeat," Oliver replied. "He needed to see there are opponents other than Damian who can match him... or surpass him."

On the screen, Victor’s elimination replayed in the echo of his words—Arthur’s demonic arm piercing his chest from behind.

Athena’s lips curved under the veil.

"That may be so," she said. "But it changes nothing about the outcome."

Her hidden gaze felt sharp.

"You haven’t seen anything yet. Damian will win. I am sure of it."

Oliver chuckled.

"Alright," he said. "If you say so, I’ll watch."

He paused.

"But in case Arthur wins," Oliver continued, voice turning thoughtful and calculating, "could you pass him a message from me?"

Athena tilted her head.

"What is it?"

Oliver’s eyes narrowed slightly, the playful air fading. For a moment, everyone could see the man known as one of the most dangerous heads in Velmora.

"Tell that boy," Oliver said, "that if he needs anything in the future—anything at all—whether it’s money or backing... the Blackthorn family will be ready to support him at any given moment."

The room froze.

The moment those words left his mouth, every noble, every elder, every officer in the hall went still.

The Blackthorn family was not just another noble house.

It was one of the most powerful pillars of the Velmora Kingdom.

To hear its head openly declare willingness to back a boy with no official standing—publicly—left many speechless.

Near Oliver’s shoulder, his butler leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you sure about this, sir?" the butler asked.

Oliver did not take his eyes off the screen.

"You’re not seeing what I’m seeing," Oliver murmured. "That kid is not ordinary. My instincts are screaming at me to keep good relations with him."

On the other side of the hall, Eliana, Queen of the Ashford Empire, stood up.

The rustle of her dress drew every gaze.

"There will be no need for your support, Oliver," Eliana said coolly. "Arthur will receive anything he wants from the Ashford Empire. He will only have to say the word."

She crossed her arms, eyes unwavering.

"He is a huge benefactor of mine."

A current of shock went through the hall.

First the Blackthorn family.

Now the Ashford throne.

Oliver’s smile sharpened.

"I’ll back off," he said, "after I hear those same words from his own mouth, Queen Eliana."

Tension spiked.

Mana stirred faintly in the air as nobles shifted uncomfortably. A clash between Blackthorn and Ashford here, even verbal, could shake the balance of half a continent.

Athena’s voice cut in before the pressure could escalate.

"Can both of you please take your seats?" she said calmly. "We can discuss this later."

Her tone carried the weight of someone who commanded the academy—and, at least in this hall, the room.

After a brief pause, both Oliver and Eliana complied, each sitting back down without meeting the other’s gaze.

But the air remained charged.

Up in the front row, Adrian’s eyes had never left the screen.

His face was pale, jaw tight, a vein pulsing at his temple.

’It can’t be,’ Adrian thought. ’It’s impossible.’

The moment he had seen Arthur display the same spatial repulsion that Arina’s bloodline had shown—only stronger, smoother, terrifyingly precise—his mind had gone blank.

And then Arthur had layered other talents on top of it, switching from demonic transformation to spatial tricks, martial techniques and swordsmanship fluidly.

A bloodline that could imitate and evolve other bloodlines.

His palms were slick with sweat...the thought of it’s horrifying potential stunned even him.

Sylvia, seated beside him, finally spoke.

"I know what you’re thinking," Sylvia said quietly. "He’s broken through that low‑potential verdict everyone gave him. His growth speed, his versatility... no one his age can compare."

Her eyes never left Arthur’s image on the screen.

"And that bloodline he carries... it’s something no one has ever recorded."

She turned her head, looking directly at Adrian.

"If only you had not abandoned him," Sylvia said. "He has everything you ever wanted in your child."

Her voice was calm, but the words cut deep.

"The one who could have fulfilled your dream. But it’s too late now."

Adrian’s fingers dug into the armrest hard enough to creak.

"We will see about that," Adrian said finally, voice low and stubborn. "He is still nowhere near what I wanted from my children."

Sylvia sighed.

"Stubborn as always," she murmured.

They both turned back toward the screen.

Where, far below, the boy they had thrown away was rewriting everyone’s expectations in real time.