Chapter 62 : The first speech from a future legend

Chapter 62: Chapter 62 : The first speech from a future legend The grand auditorium of Zenith Academy was packed with first-year cadets, second-years, third-years, faculty members, and a few important guests. The ceiling sparkled with floating lights, holograms of past champions shimmered along the walls, and majestic banners waved gently despite the lack of wind. It was the First-Year Award Ceremony, and excitement buzzed through the air. The vaulted ceilings glistened with crystal lights, and the murmurs of a thousands of cadets created a low, expectant hum. Then, the giant golden doors creaked open. Alex and Draven stepped through the massive double doors of the Zenith Grand Auditorium, their shoes clicking against the polished obsidian floor. The moment they entered, every eye in the room snapped toward them. All eyes turned as Alex Dragonheart and Draven entered—sweaty, dusty, and looking like they’d just escaped from a jungle expedition rather than the student dorms. Leaves were still stuck in Draven’s hair. Whispers swept through the crowd. "Are they late?" "Wait, did they fight a bear on the way here?" "Who are those guys?" The whispers were everywhere. The two looked like they’d just crawled out of a dungeon—bruised, scuffed, and slightly off-balance from a two-day survival misadventure. Even as Alex and Draven finished their banter, everyone’s attention remained locked on them. Suddenly noticing the unexpected attention. Alex cleared his throat and muttered, "Well, that’s a warm welcome." Draven whispered back, "I hate this. Because of you, we arrived late." Just then, a voice echoed crisply across the hall from the stage. "Mr. Alex Dragonheart, thank you for gracing us with your presence." It was Alicia von Crestvale, Student Council President—and Zenith’s most terrifyingly elegant existence. Draven turned slowly to look at Alex with wide, questioning eyes. "Wait... what? Why is the Student Council President calling you out?" He stared at Alex, whose face now resembled a man trying to remember if he’d left the stove on. Alex, however, had bigger problems. His gaze landed on the nine cadets standing confidently on the stage, and at least half of them were clearly laughing at him. Ethan Williams was holding back a smirk. Alden von Crest didn’t even pretend to hold his laughter. He casually covered his mouth, pretending to cough. Even Seraphina and Charlotte—normally composed—looked like they were trying hard not to laugh. And then there was Lilith. Her icy, emotionless expression cracked just enough to flash a brief, mocking smirk. That one stung. Alex was pulled from his spiraling embarrassment by Alicia’s voice again. "Finally... please welcome your Apex, Alex Dragonheart." The words rang through the entire auditorium. A sharp gasp swept through the crowd as everyone’s attention locked onto the silver-haired, blue-eyed cadet who looked like he belonged on a fashion runway rather than a battlefield. Draven’s face turned pale. "I—what—he’s really the Apex? The Apex?!" Draven whispered, shell-shocked. Memories of the last 48 hours with Alex rushed through his mind—the near-death experience, the forest monsters, the shamelessness. "So this walking disaster is really our Apex," he muttered repeatedly, unable to believe it. He’d had doubts, but now he realized he had simply been denying reality. And that was also the moment he realized: "Yup. We’re screwed. Not just me... the entire first year is doomed." Alicia gestured toward the stage. "Alex, if you please." Alex began walking confidently down the aisle, his blazer fluttering slightly with each step. Draven, in contrast, walked behind him like a man heading to his execution. "Stop walking like a corpse," Alex muttered. "I feel like a corpse," Draven hissed. "And this corpse hates you." After a few more steps, Draven slipped into the crowd, abandoning Alex to face the attention alone. Now under the full weight of a thousand gazes, the whispers returned—this time like wildfire. "Dragonheart? Never heard that noble name before." "Is he a commoner?" "He’s so hot though... Did you see those eyes?" "Where’d he get that uniform?" And they had reason to talk. Alex’s Apex uniform was a sight to behold— He adjusted his pristine white blazer, adorned with golden embroidery and crimson lining. The massive golden Zenith Phoenix emblazoned on his back shimmered under the lights, capturing the attention of everyone present. He walked as if the entire hall was his personal catwalk—chin high, steps precise, oozing charisma with every movement. The girls swooned. Some guys stared in jealousy. Others made mental notes to find out who his tailor was—or more precisely, the tailor Academy had hired to design the outfit. Alex reached the stage, and Alicia pointed to a glowing platform. He stood there, hands behind his back, looking utterly unfazed. Alicia’s voice echoed again. "Now that all ten of our top cadets are present, we shall begin the awards ceremony." Each cadet stepped forward one by one to receive: A silver robe adorned with golden embroidery Two C-rank artifacts A platinum badge with the Zenith insignia She held up the badge. "These grant access to exclusive training areas, resources, and library floors usually restricted to senior years." The crowd murmured. Then Alicia smirked. "Now, let’s talk about currency. As of today, credits are meaningless within these walls. The academy uses a merit-based currency system called C.P—Consumption Points." Confused murmurs followed. "Your C.P will be credited monthly based on your performance, achievements, and mission completion. And if you’re going outside of the academy for a mission, you can exchange your C.P into credits beforehand. Amazing, right?" Then she winked. "And here’s the fun part—being in the Top 10 comes with bonus C.P every month." The crowd perked up. A hologram lit up showing: Rank 10: 100,000 CP Rank 9: 200,000 CP Rank 8: 300,000 CP Rank 7: 400,000 CP Rank 6: 500,000 CP Rank 5: 600,000 CP Rank 4: 700,000 CP Rank 3: 800,000 CP Rank 2: 900,000 CP Then she paused. "Now, how much does the Apex get?" Everyone leaned in. "Absolutely nothing." The hall exploded. Alex blinked. "Wait, what?" he muttered. "Am I getting scammed?" Alicia let the tension build, then chuckled. "Because he doesn’t need any. Everything the Apex desires shall be free of cost—within monthly limitations, of course. Can’t let him slack off." Alex’s ears perked up. A smug smirk appeared on his face. Alden, beside him, gritted his teeth. "Why the hell are you smirking again, you bastard?" Alex whispered, "Jealous, Mr. Third Rank?" Alden glared daggers. Alicia smiled knowingly. "Now, we would like to hear a few words from our Apex—the first commoner in Zenith history to claim the top spot." Alex inhaled sharply. The word ’commoner’ had been dropped with surgical precision. He knew exactly what Alicia was trying to do and it worked like a charm. Gasps rippled through the noble students. Some narrowed their eyes. Others clenched their fists. Even among the Top 10, a few faces turned curious. Even the professors—and Alicia herself—watched quietly, observing. What was this guy going to say? Would he act normal? Act humble? Demand acceptance? Alex did none of those things. In fact, the thought of asking for acceptance hadn’t even crossed his mind for a second. Because he didn’t care. He didn’t care about noble pride, commoner inferiority, or any outdated sense of class division. He only cared about power—and getting things done with the least effort possible. So, when Alicia handed him a mic out of thin air, like she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life, he took it with flair. Suddenly, a few cadets—obviously nobles—stood and began walking away. Some even started insulting him openly. "Disgraceful." "Commoner trash." "I refuse to listen to him." Others remained seated but hurled insults from their chairs. "Go back to the slums!" "Apex? More like fluke." Alden threw Alex a sarcastic smile, but his clenched fist told another story. Inwardly, Alden was fuming at every insult hurled at his friend by those so-called nobles—shiny beggars who had nothing to their name except their family’s backing. In his eyes, they weren’t even worthy of polishing his shoes. So what if they made it to the Top 2000? If he wanted to, he could bury all 2000 of them alive, and they wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. This was Zenith Academy. Here, power and the ability to achieve it mattered—not bloodlines or fancy surnames. And yet, those shameless fools had the audacity to mock his friend—a commoner with little to no backing—who had clawed his way to the top with nothing but sheer will and strength. Alden had seen it himself during the entrance exam. Alex had fought tooth and nail to earn his position as Apex—not because of some noble heritage. Unlike those pampered brats, who remained mediocre despite all the resources given to them since birth. Still, Alden knew this wasn’t his battle to fight. If Alex couldn’t handle something as petty as this, then he wasn’t worthy of being the Apex in the first place. Alex noticed and gave a small smirk. His friend was fuming inside—but not at him. At them. Still, Alden said nothing. Because this was Alex’s battle. Alex leaned slightly and whispered to the Top 10. "Get ready, because you’re about to hear the first speech from a future legend." Hearing this all nine of them wanted to scoff at him. They were going to scoff—but when they saw the fire ignite in his eyes, the intensity within it, they held their breath. Alex looked over the crowd. He memorized every face that mocked him. Every noble that cursed him. He would remember. And when he was done with them, they’d remember him too. He raised the mic. And took a deep breath. ------------------------ A/N :- So how was the Chapter you can tell me on comments. May be i should become a bit shameless too some golden tickets and gifts and I might upload an additional Chapter after an hour. Well it’s up to you guys anyway thanks for the support. ????