Journey to Become the Zenith

Sparks in the Hallway

Victor’s group, along with the trembling greatsword party, followed Clara through the upper corridor toward the Guild Master’s office.

The five idiots who had attacked Victor clung so close behind Clara that they nearly stepped on her heels. Every time Victor’s footsteps echoed against the polished stone floor, their shoulders twitched. They feared that at any second he might change his mind and erase them mid-walk.

The hallway itself was quieter than the main hall. Sunlight filtered through narrow windows, casting long golden lines across the floor. The air smelled faintly of parchment and old wood.

As they neared the office, they spotted Isabella ahead of them.

She was walking... painfully slowly.

Shoulders slightly slumped.

Hands tucked into her sleeves.

If one hadn’t seen her earlier movements, one would never guess she was fast enough to evade a thrown spear mid-air.

”Guild Master,” Clara called out sweetly, her smile bright and terrifying at the same time, ”why are you still wandering around here? Why aren’t you in your office fixing the mess you made?”

Isabella didn’t even turn fully around.

”Why don’t you do it? Isn’t that part of your job?” she replied lazily.

Clara’s eye twitched.

”I’m your secretary, not your cleaning lady! Go. Now. And fix that room of yours!”

The hallway temperature dropped slightly.

Isabella raised both hands in surrender.

”Fine, Mom. I’ll do it.”

Clara’s face cracked.

”Did you just call me your mom again?! How could I possibly have someone older than me as a daughter—and such a lazy one at that?”

Isabella waved her off and finally shuffled forward at a slightly faster pace.

Victor watched this exchange with mild fascination.

Sloth... and wrath.

He almost laughed.

The ”strongest adventurer in the region” being scolded like a delinquent child.

Interesting hierarchy.

Clara turned back to the group.

”We’ll wait here until the Guild Master finishes cleaning her office. Then she will receive you.”

The idiots gulped.

Victor leaned casually against the wall.

Lane stood close to him, expression cool.

Videl stood slightly ahead of him, posture straight, blue eyes alert.

Even now, even in a hallway—she carried herself like a knight.

And she did not like how Clara’s gaze kept drifting toward Victor.

...

After a moment of silence, Clara spoke.

”I’ve been watching you since you entered the guild.”

Her purple eyes fixed on Victor.

”It was obvious you orchestrated everything.”

The idiots stiffened.

Victor’s lips curved faintly.

”Oh?”

”You positioned yourself to highlight the girl with you,” Clara continued. ”You made her more visible. More enticing. Most men hide their women when entering a guild hall. You did the opposite. You wanted someone to attack. You wanted to show your battle prowess.”

She lifted her spear and pointed it directly at his chest.

”Everything that happened was by your design.”

Victor didn’t deny it.

Didn’t confirm it either.

He simply raised his hand.

Between thumb and index finger—

He pinched the spear tip.

Crack.

The metal shattered into a hundred glittering fragments that clinked against the stone floor.

Clara’s eyes widened.

She had seen his strength in the hall.

But seeing it this close—feeling how effortlessly he destroyed a weapon she trusted—

It sent a faint tremor through her fingers.

”Please don’t point dangerous things at me,” Victor said lightly. ”I might accidentally get hurt.”

He smiled.

And that smile—

It was unfair.

Sharp features.

Golden eyes.

Confident ease.

Clara felt heat creep up her neck.

Annoyance.

Obviously annoyance.

Nothing else.

”You broke my spear,” she said tightly. ”You’re buying me a new one.”

Victor shrugged. ”You pointed it at me. What was I supposed to do?”

Lane’s fingers twitched at her side.

If Clara kept pushing—

But Victor gave her the slightest signal to stay calm.

Clara clicked her tongue.

”Fine. Whatever. Still—you won’t deny you provoked those idiots.”

She gestured sharply toward the five kneeling fools.

Victor tilted his head.

”What makes you think that?”

”The way you entered. The positioning. The way you stood. You invited confrontation.”

She stepped closer.

”Usually when men bring their women into the guild, they shield them. You displayed her.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Lane.

Then to Videl.

”And then you waited.”

Victor’s grin widened.

Sharp.

Amused.

”Assuming I did all that,” he said smoothly, ”what’s the problem? Did I break a rule? Is showing the beauty of a woman a crime? They attacked first. Shouldn’t your anger be directed at them?”

Clara’s jaw tightened.

”To me, you’re all in the wrong.”

She turned abruptly to Videl.

”And you. You’re a student of the Knight Academy, aren’t you? If you keep following this kind of bad influence, you might not even graduate.”

Videl froze.

For a split second.

Then—

Her blue eyes hardened.

”I’m sorry if we troubled you,” she said evenly, ”but you don’t have the right to judge him. You don’t know anything about Victor.”

Her voice trembled slightly—not from fear.

From emotion.

”How can you call him a bad influence when you don’t even know him?”

Victor glanced sideways at her.

That protective spark.

That hero’s instinct.

Even now.

Clara folded her arms.

”Birds of a feather.”

Videl’s fists clenched.

Lane stepped forward slightly as well.

The hallway felt tighter.

Denser.

Victor exhaled softly.

Then, unexpectedly—

He leaned closer to Clara.

”So,” he murmured low enough that only she could hear, ”if I’m such a bad influence... why are you still staring at me?”

Clara stiffened.

”I’m not—”

”Your eyes keep coming back,” he continued lazily. ”Is it because I broke your spear? Or because you’re curious?”

Her ears flushed faintly pink.

”I’m assessing a potential threat.”

Victor’s golden gaze sharpened playfully.

”And what’s your assessment?”

Clara met his eyes.

For a moment—

Silence.

Her heartbeat thudded once.

Twice.

Dangerous.

Infuriating.

Attractive.

”Troublesome,” she answered finally.

Victor chuckled.

”I get that a lot.”

Behind them—

The office door creaked open.

Isabella emerged, brushing dust off her sleeves.

”You’re all still here? Wow. I thought maybe you’d kill each other and save me paperwork.”

Clara turned sharply.

”Guild Master. Perhaps if you behaved like one—”

”Oh, here we go again,” Isabella muttered.

Their eyes met.

Sparks.

Pure sparks.

Clara stepped forward. ”You tried to give away your position.”

Isabella shrugged. ”He’s strong. That’s the only requirement.”

”And wildly irresponsible!”

”Isn’t strength what matters?”

”Leadership matters!”

Victor watched them with open amusement.

Wrath and Sloth arguing over responsibility.

Both beautiful.

Both powerful.

Both glaring.

He smiled faintly.

”They both look cute when angry,” he murmured under his breath.

Lane shot him a sharp look.

Videl’s lips pressed thin.

Cute?

Victor caught their reactions.

He coughed lightly.

”Professionally cute.”

That did not help.

Isabella crossed her arms, glancing at Victor again.

He caught her gaze.

Held it.

She looked away first.

Why does he look like that?

Clara noticed the exchange.

Her expression darkened slightly.

”Inside,” she ordered.

The tension in the hallway doubled.

Five terrified idiots.

Two jealous girls.

One amused demon king in a human body.

And two powerful women bristling with pride.

As the door opened—

The air inside felt heavier.

And the game was only getting more interesting.