Chapter 27
The next morning, Jayden slowly blinked his eyes open to unfamiliar surroundings. A soft beam of sunlight pierced through the half-drawn curtains, casting a golden line across the foreign wooden ceiling. For a moment, he allowed himself the faint hope that everything since arriving at the Scarlet Faction had been a bizarre dream—Grand Elder Jake, the tests, the absurdly powerful weirdos, all just a hallucination.
But then—
BAM!
The door to his room flew open with a loud crash. Jayden's deadpan eyes slid sideways to see a wild-haired figure standing in the doorway, his grin as wide as a canyon.
"Rise and shine, my brother-in-chaos!" the man beamed. "Let's go explore the faction!"
Jayden stared at the man, unamused. "No."
"What?! You're not going to familiarize yourself with the faction grounds?"
"No."
Jayden wasn't even being stubborn—he genuinely didn't care. In his mind, he had no intention of staying here longer than necessary. All he had to do was keep a low profile, gain enough strength to reach the Violet Plane, and he'd earn the right to walk away from this place. That was the rule. Reach Violet, and you could leave—unless roped into some grand elder's 'world-ending' mission.
But Rictor had other plans. "C'mon, no avoiding it now, One-Shotter!"
Jayden's eyebrow twitched at the nickname. He opened his mouth to reject him again, but it was too late—Rictor had already grabbed him and dragged him off the bed like a kid stealing a body pillow.
"Fine," Jayden muttered, deciding it wasn't worth the fight. He washed up, dressed, and followed the lunatic outside.
Moments later, they were walking through the Scarlet Faction's inner sector—a collection of massive, elegant buildings laced with symbols glowing faintly in the sunlight. Despite their grandeur, Jayden was unimpressed.
"I just have to keep my head down," he thought. "Get strong enough, and I can leave. That's the goal. No distractions."
But fate, as usual, had different ideas.
As they strolled into one of the faction's most crowded squares—an open hangout zone filled with chatting members and training squads—Jayden's quiet internal monologue was shattered by murmurs.
"Hey… isn't that the guy who defeated Cynthia?" a blue-haired girl whispered, eyes wide, pointing at Rictor.
"What? He's a whole stage below her, and still won? Is he a prodigy or something?"
"I heard he's even got a legendary title… The Lucky Psycho."
Rictor's chest puffed out like a peacock on parade. "Ah, yes. The people know greatness when they see it," he said with a smug smile, waving like a local celebrity.
Jayden, deadpan as always, muttered, "Let's go. This is annoying."
"No way, man! We're just getting started," Rictor said, basking in the praise.
Jayden narrowed his eyes. "You're not looking at the buildings."
"Huh?"
"You said we're exploring the structure."
Rictor shrugged, grinning. "I am looking—at the structure of admiration."
Jayden sighed. "Idiot."
Just as Rictor was absorbing his tenth compliment, a girl with curly red hair suddenly pointed at Jayden.
"Wait… who's that beside him?"
"Isn't that the One-Shotter?!"
"You mean the guy who one-shot Kai? The 'Unparalleled Genius of the Blue Plane'?"
"Oh my god, he's not just powerful, he's gorgeous!"
As the voices grew, Jayden continued walking, his face expressionless, completely unaffected by the mounting praise.
But beside him, Rictor's smile slowly twisted… then trembled… then twitched.
"W-Won't these people remember that I'm also an unparalleled genius?" he thought desperately.
Almost as if the universe heard him, a boy leaned over and said loudly, "Wait, isn't that the crazy gambler guy who kept betting on the One-Shotter? The one who got lucky?"
"Right! He looks like a playboy too. Probably only got famous because he's attached to the one shotter."
Rictor's smile broke. His soul left his body.
"…Let's leave," he said quickly, grabbing Jayden and vanishing from the square in a blur of wounded pride.
---
They finally stopped at a towering building marked by spinning emblems and a high golden archway. Inside, dozens of people moved around, most gathered near glowing panels filled with missions. Some wore blue insignias, others purple, and a few—intimidating figures—carried orange emblems on their cloaks which signify the plane they were at.
"This is the Quest Hall," Rictor announced dramatically.
Jayden scanned the place. "Looks like a dungeon entrance mixed with a busy marketplace."
"You got that right. Faction members come here to grab quests issued by nobles, commoners, or the faction itself. The difficulty's ranked by how many points you get. Points equal coins. Coins equal freedom."
Jayden raised a brow. "We're not taking a quest. I'm not interested afterall this is our first day here."
"Of course not," Rictor said with a devious grin. "We're here for something better."
Jayden sighed deeply. "This guy is going to get me killed…"
---
Rictor strutted up to the central registration desk where three women were working tirelessly—each surrounded by stacks of scrolls and flashing panels. He approached the middle one, who looked especially irritable, her dark eyes sunken from sleep deprivation.
"Hi!" Rictor said cheerfully, leaning against the counter with an obnoxiously wide grin. "Lovely weather today, isn't it? Feels like a breeze of destiny is blowing through the faction, don't you think?"
The woman at the counter blinked at him, clearly not expecting that kind of energy at whatever hellish hour it was. Her deep eye bags practically screamed 'I have not known rest in decades'. She stared at him as if trying to figure out if he was mentally stable or just terminally stupid.
"…Are you here to register a quest?" she asked flatly, rubbing her temple.
"Nah," Rictor replied, waving a hand dramatically, "You see, I believe in destiny. A quest should choose me, not the other way around!"
"Then go to the quest panel."
"No, no, no—you misunderstand," Rictor said, chuckling. "I want a quest you think is within my capacity. You seem like a woman with impeccable judgment."
The woman blinked again. Slowly. Dangerously.
Jayden, standing behind him, took a subtle step backward. Then another. Then five more. Now he was several meters away, arms crossed, pretending he didn't know this lunatic. He could practically see the veins bulging on the woman's temple.
"I mean, think about it," Rictor continued, completely oblivious to the rising storm. "You've been working so hard. Sleepless nights. Paperwork up to your neck. And now, a charming genius like me comes by asking for just a bit of guidance. Isn't that fate?"
The woman's head twitched. Her once-static blue hair rose slightly. Sparks of lightning began to crackle faintly around her.
"Are you… part of a club?" she asked slowly, her voice dangerously calm.
"Clubs?" Rictor scoffed. "Nah, I'm too cool to be tied down. Lone wolf. The mysterious rogue genius. You know the vibe."
Another step backward from Jayden. He was now pretending to admire a quest panel filled entirely with completed missions. Not a single available quest in sight. Just vibes and betrayal.
"Anyway, do you think we should be able to take quests like, say, twice or even thrice?" Rictor said, still smiling. "To farm points, you know? Get those sweet faction credits with minimal effort. Efficiency, right?"
Silence.
Then, the hum of electricity intensified. The woman's blue hair lifted higher, crackling lightning crawling through the strands like living snakes. The ground faintly vibrated. Her hands were now glowing with condensed lightning.
"Do you know…" she began, her voice shaking with rage, "how many nights I've spent without sleep, dealing with arrogant upstarts like you? Filing quest reports. Managing idiot requests. Enduring nonsense like—this?!"
Rictor gulped. "Now, now, surely we can come to an understanding—"
Zzzap.
He flinched as lightning lashed the counter just inches from his face. Her power was peaking. Late-stage Purple Plane, crackling with fury. She was one wrong word away from roasting him like a skewer at a street market.
"I've decided," she said, her tone deathly calm. "I will make you a scape-roasted goat."
Rictor turned desperately to his side, only to see Jayden a good fifteen meters away now, still "studying" completed quests with his usual deadpan face. Betrayal hung thick in the air.
"Traitor," Rictor muttered under his breath.
And then—
"Rictor! What are you doing here?" a calm, melodic voice interrupted like a cool breeze in a forest fire.
The storm halted.
Rictor sighed in relief and turned to face his savior.
"Mephina! My dearest friend, angel of grace, beacon of hope—"
The blue-haired woman at the desk immediately calmed. Mephina, one of the most powerful and respected geniuses in the faction, was not someone even late-stage Purple Planes wanted to anger. With a reluctant glare, the woman lowered her lightning and returned to her paperwork, grumbling under her breath.
Rictor's moment of peace didn't last.
"You should have let him get fried first," came a bone-chillingly deep voice.
Rictor turned again and groaned. "Toph."
Mephina's ever-watchful bodyguard crossed his arms, his towering figure shadowing the nearby quest board. He was clearly disappointed that Rictor had survived.
"I was just... trying to get more info on how things work around here," Rictor mumbled.
Jayden rejoined the group with his usual blank face, deliberately avoiding Rictor's betrayed glare.
Before Rictor could complain more, a new voice rang out, arrogant and loud.
"Well, well, well. Isn't this the petty new guy?"
They turned.
Kael.
Despite his embarrassing loss the day before, he walked with the cockiness of someone who'd forgotten how humiliating it was to be defeated in front of an audience. Behind him were several teenagers radiating immense aura—Purple Planes, some even nearing the peak.
Instant murmurs spread around them.
"Isn't that the Oblivion Coil Club?" someone whispered.
"Yeah, they're ranked among the top three. Ruthless when provoked."
Clubs, after all, were a big deal in factions. Most members joined to complete high-reward quests in groups. Elders supervised them, but rarely interfered. The club members themselves were the true powerhouses.
"Shouldn't talk too much when you're one sneeze away from another knockout," Rictor said with a smirk, arms crossed. "Or do you want a round two?"
Laughter broke out around them. Kael's face twitched.
"How dare you insult a member of our club?!" snapped a spiky-haired boy, his red eyes blazing.
Rictor chuckled. "What, you trying to shut me up now? Oh no you don't. I'm just speaking the truth. It's bitter, I know. But you can't deny your so-called genius got knocked out by a guy who didn't even move his expression."
Kael pointed angrily at Jayden. "He cheated! Used some… weird trick!"
Jayden blinked once. His expression unchanged.
Rictor shook his head dramatically. "Classic. Can't handle the L, so now it's all 'he used dirty tricks'. Just admit it. You got served."
The crowd roared with laughter again.
Kael's club members looked ready to pounce. But they couldn't. The rules were clear: no battles unless in sanctioned duels or the Trial Combat Grounds—a brutal, sanctioned combat arena where deaths were rare, but bones were not.
And Rictor knew exactly how to toe that line.
"Who dares talk ill of my club like that?"
The voice was quiet—too quiet. Yet it pierced the hall like a blade of ice sliding down one's spine. It wasn't loud, it didn't need to be. The weight it carried silenced even the murmuring whispers.
Everyone turned.
Standing at the entrance of the hall was a figure dressed in ash-grey silk robes that shimmered like woven smoke. His long, obsidian-black hair was tied at the middle, the rest flowing elegantly down his back. His face bore no expression—serene, noble, and eerily calm. Yet beneath that tranquility lay something primal. Something terrifying.
Zon.
A suffocating stillness spread.
Rictor stiffened immediately. Oh crap, he thought. There wasn't a soul in the entire Scarlet Faction who hadn't heard the name. Zon, the undefeated leader of the Oblivion Coil. He wasn't just an Orange Plane expert—he was the Orange Plane expert. A monster in the shape of a man.
It was said Zon ended fights before they even began, laying traps so intricate his opponents never realized they'd already lost.
Zon took a step forward, his presence devouring the space between him and Rictor like an abyss drawing all light.
"What were you saying?" His voice was like smooth obsidian—calm, controlled, and impossibly dangerous.
"Rictor instinctively stepped back… then, in a panic, grabbed Jayden and yanked him forward like a meat shield.
"You know what? Face someone your own size!" he blurted, pushing Jayden ahead with both hands.shield.
Jayden stood still, expression blank—but deep down, he was questioning every life decision that led him to befriend this lunatic. 'Is this guy out of his mind? How am I supposed to be a match for him?' This Zon guy radiated danger—he was clearly stronger than even Toph, and Toph was already a nightmare.
Zon's black eyes locked on him.
"So… you're the infamous 'One-Shotter,'" Zon said, the words hanging with amusement and disdain. "The prodigy of the selection match who knocked out Kai in a single move."
Jayden said nothing.
Zon tilted his head slightly. "Are you hiding your true cultivation? No Blue Planer can strike with such precision. You're not fooling me."
Still, no answer.
Jayden's eyes remained empty. He hadn't said a word since Zon arrived.
But instead of calming Zon, the silence only served to irritate him further. His composed face twitched ever so slightly.
"You think that blank face makes you mysterious?" Zon asked, now stepping even closer. "Let me tell you something—you're nobody. A name whispered only because of luck."
And then—
"Take that back."
The voice sliced through the tension. All eyes turned as Mephina stepped forward, her cloak billowing behind her like a tempest made flesh. Her presence alone made the atmosphere shift.
She stood in front of Jayden with unwavering resolve. "He is not a nobody," she said, her eyes flashing. "He's a genius more than you, and…" her voice dipped, and to everyone's shock, she blushed slightly. "…he's my boyfriend."
Silence.
Complete, utter, jaw-breaking silence.
The air froze. Even breathing seemed like a disturbance.
Zon's eyes widened.
His followers' mouths dropped open.
Toph's eyes twitched.
Jayden's deadpan face remained—but a single eye twitched violently.
Boyfriend…? Since when?!
Even Rictor staggered back like he'd been punched by fate itself.
"W-Wait what—when—how—HUH?! I'm having a spiritual stroke!" Rictor exclaimed, holding his head. "How did that happen?!"
Mephina's blush deepened, but she simply turned and walked away, giving Zon one last look. "So don't bother him again."
Toph followed, sighing under his breath. Jayden, now awkwardly caught in the middle of things he didn't ask for, began to move… until a hand gripped his shoulder.
Zon.
His fingers were tight, but his voice was calmer than ever, betraying the fury behind them.
"You should know," he said, his lips barely moving, "this world doesn't treat anomalies kindly. Especially not arrogant ones. You may think silence makes you clever… but silence can also be a coffin."
Jayden stared at his front. The whole hall had gone quiet, once again hanging on every breath.
Then, Jayden tilted his head slightly.
"…Are you saying something?"
BOOM.
The spiritual pressure snapped.
Zon nearly stumbled.
Half the crowd collapsed from the absurdity of it. Others bit their tongues trying not to laugh. Rictor had fallen to the ground, rolling, clutching his stomach as tears spilled from his eyes. "He did not just say that—Jayden, you absolute menace!"
Zon's expression finally cracked, fury visibly leaking through the seams of his control.
But he didn't move. Couldn't. Not without breaking the faction rules—and not while Mephina, Lady Tempest his crush was watching.
Jayden walked past him calmly, brushing Zon's hand off his shoulder like it was dust.
Kael stepped in beside Zon, whispering low. "Boss, what should we do? He's making a fool of you… of us."
Zon didn't reply at first.
Then he smiled—a cruel, dark thing—and clenched his fist so tight the marble beneath his feet fractured.
"…Don't worry. He'll regret the day he ever stepped into the Scarlet Faction."
He turned slowly energy coiling subtly around his frame.
"Let him have his fun," Zon whispered. "But soon… we'll show him the Oblivion Coil aren't to be mocked. I'll crush him in a place where no rules bind us… in the Trial Combat Ground.
To be continued.