The Forsaken Heir's Ascension
Chapter 91: Pride of the Ice Phoenix

Chapter 91: Pride of the Ice Phoenix

Darian laughed heartily, stepping in before the tension could grow.

"Team B, great job! As veteran defenders, you should be proud. But you were nearly taken down by a newbie."

He pointed toward Alex.

"If Luther hadn’t stopped him, we would’ve lost. So do better tomorrow. And don’t take the new ones lightly—they learned a lot today."

He paused, giving his words weight.

Then smiled wide.

"Now let’s celebrate our win at the cafeteria—my treat!"

Cheers erupted.

"Captain! Captain! Captain!"

The team chanted in unison, rallying around Darian like a war hero.

Alex slowly stood, wincing. His black clothes were soaked in blood and mud.

He looked down at himself, then over to Hati.

"Let’s go to the dorms first," he muttered, scratching behind Hati’s ear.

"We’ll change, then head to the cafeteria."

As he turned, Selene approached.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Alex glanced at her, his gaze narrowing, and gave a short nod.

She didn’t back off.

"You guys going to the cafeteria?"

Alex shook his head.

"No. Dorm room first."

Selene smiled, brushing off his cold tone.

"Okay. I’ll be waiting there."

As Selene passed by, her fragrance lingered in the air.

It brushed Alex’s senses like a whisper, her hair grazing his face, the scent hitting him like a spell—sharp, vivid, unforgettable.

And just like that, they woke up.

White Alex stirred in his mind, dreamy and light.

"This... this is what her hair smells like. I want to burn this into memory—forever."

Black Alex appeared beside him, arms crossed, unimpressed.

"Are you really this naïve? Did you forget what happened to us?"

White Alex replied, eyes half-closed in the memory.

"What does any of that have to do with Selene?"

Black Alex scoffed, his voice cold.

"We’re back because he’s cracking again. Emotions, loneliness—they’re clawing at him. We’re here to stop him from falling."

In the real world, Alex exhaled slowly, his eyes shadowed by a quiet melancholy.

He muttered to himself, voice low and bitter,

"They’re all good... until they get the real choice. They didn’t even hesitate to abandon me. Thought I was dead—and now they want forgiveness. Another chance? Hah."

Hati padded silently beside him as Alex walked through the quiet hallways.

In the dorm room, Alex stripped off his blood-soaked uniform and stepped into the shower. The water ran red before it ran clean.

After drying off, he changed into a fresh set of black clothes—sleek, close-fitted, outlining every refined muscle honed through endless pain and relentless training. The fabric clung to him like a second skin, comforting in its familiarity.

He stared at his reflection for a moment.

"This is the last one left," he muttered, voice calm but firm.

"I should ask Teacher Emilia where to get more like these."

Hati and Alex entered the cafeteria, the scent of warm food lingering in the air. It was that quiet hour—not breakfast, not lunch—

Only the Rebel Club’s defender team filled the space with noise, their celebratory energy pulsing from the centre of the room.

Laughter, clinking trays, and proud chatter echoed around them.

In the far corner—Alex’s usual spot—Selene and Rina sat side by side, facing the door.

Selene’s eyes lifted the moment Alex walked in.

Rina followed, watching him like he might glance back.

But he didn’t.

Alex kept walking.

No hesitation, no acknowledgment.

He went straight to the counter.

"Aunty Chef."

The older woman turned, smiling as she always did when she saw him.

Without needing to ask, she handed him a tray overflowing with food—rice, skewers, a bowl of thick stew, and some grilled vegetables. Three juicy steaks and a BBQ skewer for Hati sat on the edge of the counter.

"Thanks," Alex muttered, voice low.

He turned and walked to the opposite corner of the cafeteria—away from his usual spot, away from the girls—and took a seat.

Hati sat beside him, tail flicking once before settling into a still, silent presence.

Across the room, Selene’s expression tightened.

Rina blinked, surprised.

Without a word, both girls stood, picked up their trays, and began walking—toward him.

Not toward the defenders’ table.

Not toward the exit.

But straight to where Alex sat in silence.

They both sat across from Alex—silent, their trays clinking softly against the table.

Alex didn’t look up. His gaze stayed fixed on the food in front of him, hands steady, expression blank.

For a long moment, only the soft murmurs from the celebrating defenders filled the cafeteria.

Then, in a trembling voice, Rina broke the silence.

"Al... Alex..." she stammered, voice cracking. "I’m really sorry..."

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

"I’m really sorry... I’m really sorry..."

She kept repeating the words, sobbing, her whole body trembling under the weight of guilt and regret.

Selene said in a trembling voice, clenching her fists under the table, guilt apparent in her eyes: "Alex, can you please forgive us and give us another chance?"

Slowly, Alex raised his head.

His eyes—once cold and guarded—were now glowing violet, the edges burning crimson.

Rina froze.

The eyes staring back at her weren’t just sad or angry... they were filled with pure loathing—hatred sharp enough to draw blood.

The aura around Alex shifted.

It became suffocating—dark, heavy, and vengeful.

It wasn’t just the pain of betrayal.

It was the disgust of someone who had tasted abandonment... and never forgot it.

Unable to stay any longer, Alex stood up mid-meal and walked away, silent but radiating fury.

Hati, faithful as ever, grabbed the rest of the remaining steak in his mouth and followed—tail low, ears perked with concern.

Back in his dorm room, Alex sat cross-legged, trying to calm the storm inside.

His fists were clenched. His breathing shallow.

"I shouldn’t get angry..." he muttered, eyes closed tightly.

"I shouldn’t get angry..."

Again and again, like a mantra—like a drowning man clinging to driftwood.

Meanwhile, in the Ignisara Clan’s club room, a boy sat casually atop a long table.

He had a broad, sharp-featured face, disheveled dark hair, and piercing blue eyes that glinted with mischief.

In one hand, he held a small knife, methodically slicing a red apple.

Kaelan popped a slice into his mouth and chewed slowly.

"So," he said, voice smooth, "you’re telling me Selene didn’t join the Frostreign Club?"

A man stood at attention nearby, clearly someone of status, replying in a formal tone,

"Yes, sir. That is correct."

Kaelan turned to him with a lazy grin.

"Oh, Captain, come on—you don’t have to stand every time I ask a question, right?"

With a short laugh, Kaelan hopped down from the table, hands casually tucked behind his head.

"When’s our first match?" he asked, strolling toward the window without looking back.

"Sir," the captain replied, still standing, "it’s in four days, part of the elimination round."

Kaelan tilted his head.

"Hmm... If that commoner wasn’t already in the Rebel Club, we should’ve snatched him up."

Then, glancing over his shoulder, he asked with a grin,

"Think we still can?"

The captain shook his head. "No, sir. Not anymore."

Kaelan sighed and nodded. "Thought so."

He began to hum to himself, strolling out the door with a carefree whistle, hands still behind his head.

As the door shut behind him, the captain finally exhaled deeply and sank into a chair.

Someone nearby leaned over.

"What’s with Sir Kaelan lately? He’s acting different—way too casual."

The captain gave a tired, haunted look.

"He changed in that damned tower..."

BOOM!

His fist slammed down on the table in sheer frustration, the sound echoing off the walls.

But elsewhere in the Frostreign Club, someone was even angrier.

The President and Captain of the club stood in his office, clutching a crumpled letter sealed with the insignia of the Ice Phoenix Patriarch. Veins bulged across his forehead, his body trembling with suppressed rage.

With a sudden roar, he raised his foot and kicked the office table, sending it screeching across the room until it crashed against the far wall.

"FUCKKKK!" he shouted, voice laced with fury.

"Because of that bastard from the Ignis Clan, I now have to stand before the Elders like a damned fool—for that bastards fault!"

A nearby member, hesitant and pale, spoke up cautiously.

"Captain... isn’t this the Ice Princess’s fault?"

The Captain turned sharply, his eyes cold as frost and blazing with fury.

"It’s not her fault!" he snapped. "She made the right decision."

"We do not force the Ice Phoenix to bow. It is a creature of pride. We are its descendants—and that pride is our legacy."

He glared, his voice low but firm. "Never forget that, Vice Captain."

Then, his anger faded into weariness. He dropped back into his chair, exhaling slowly, the fire in his eyes dimming with grim realization.

"If I want even a chance before the Elders... I need to give it everything I’ve got."

"I need to leave the Rebel Club behind—obliterate them—if I’m going to survive this."

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