Heavy silk collar chafed against my neck, a constant reminder of the ridiculous price tag attached to the tailored suit. "Stop squirming," Selene murmured, her fingers brushing against my throat as she adjusted the black tie. Glancing down, I caught the amusement dancing in her silver eyes. Tonight, she was the epitome of high-society royalty, wearing a backless emerald gown that clung to her curves like a second skin. Silver hair fell in soft waves over her bare shoulders, catching the light of the grand entrance. "I hate these things," I muttered, keeping my voice low so the valet parking the sleek black limousine wouldn't hear. "You look incredibly handsome," she replied, her lips curving into a teasing smile that could melt glaciers. A faint ripple of telekinetic energy pulsed from her fingers, smoothing out a microscopic wrinkle on my lapels. I forced my body to remain relaxed, suppressing the instinctual urge to counter her magic with a wave of my own shadows. To the rest of the world, I was just a quiet classmate she had taken a liking to, a normal boy dragged into a world of gods and monsters. In reality, I was the heir to a notorious mercenary clan, carrying an EX-rank power that could swallow this entire estate whole. Wealth clung to the air of the Grand Crest Estate like a heavy perfume. Gold-leaf arches loomed overhead, and the chatter of the city's elite sounded like a low, persistent buzz. Every step we took into the ballroom felt like stepping onto a minefield. Selene slipped her arm through mine, her touch warm and surprisingly grounding amidst the sea of fake smiles and political posturing. My eyes scanned the room, mapping out the exits, calculating the trajectories of potential attacks, and identifying the security guards. There were twelve S-class heroes masquerading as private security, their eyes darting nervously through the crowd. Something was keeping them on edge. Underneath the tailored fabric of my suit, my shadow writhed silently, stretching along the marble floor to act as my silent radar. Several high-ranking politicians and corporate executives glanced our way, their whispers turning sharp and critical as they noticed me. To them, a nameless boy accompanying the sole heiress of the multi-billion-dollar Vance Corporation was an insult to their social order. A middle-aged man with a slicked-back comb-over and a chest pinned with military medals stepped into our path, holding a crystal glass of amber liquid. "Selene, my dear, your father told me you would be attending, but he didn't mention you'd be bringing... company," the man said, his eyes sliding down my suit with obvious disdain. "General Vance," Selene replied, her voice instantly dropping into a freezing, aristocratic register. "Kenji is my personal guest. I didn't realize I needed to consult the defense ministry's roster before choosing my company." Before the general could formulate a patronizing response, Selene's eyes flared with a brief, icy flash of telekinetic pressure. The liquid in his glass wobbled violently, splashing over the rim and staining his pristine white cuff. My hand remained steady in my pocket, though a dark smirk threatened to pull at the corners of my lips. She was fierce, beautiful, and utterly lethal when she wanted to be. Smiling politely, we walked past the sputtering military official and moved toward the center of the glittering ballroom. When the waiters began circulating with silver trays of vintage champagne, I felt a sudden, sharp prickle at the back of my neck. My EX-Rank Shadow Manipulation wasn't just a weapon; it was an extension of my nervous system, tuned to the absolute finest vibrations of danger. Her hand reached toward a glass on a passing waiter's tray, her fingers mere inches from the crystal stem. As we stood near the edge of the dance floor, my shadow slipped beneath the waiter's tray, whispering a warning directly into my mind. A young waiter kept his eyes trained on the floor, but his heartbeat was running at a frantic, unnatural rhythm. My shadow reached upward, penetrating the bottom of the crystal flutes to analyze the chemical composition of the sparkling liquid inside. Deep within the golden bubbles, something microscopic was swimming. Microscopic, metallic nanites, invisible to the naked eye and completely undetectable by standard magic scanners, were floating in the champagne. These weren't designed to kill instantly. They were specialized siphon-nanites, a signature technology engineered to latch onto high-rank mana pathways and drain SSS-rank life force directly from the source. They were targeting Selene. Cold fury erupted in my chest, a dark, freezing wave that threatened to shatter my carefully constructed mask of a quiet high school student. The Paradox Commission was behind this. They were acting right here, in the middle of a high-society charity gala, completely disregarding the hundreds of innocent lives around them. A freezing realization shattered whatever illusions I had left about keeping my mercenary life isolated from my school identity. There was no separation. The war had spilled over, and the girl I was supposed to protect—or destroy—was standing in the center of their crosshairs. Never again would I let myself believe we were safe in the light. Without moving a muscle, I channeled a thread of EX-rank shadow energy through my feet, letting it travel up the waiter's leg, through his arm, and directly into the base of Selene's glass. A microscopic shadow barrier, thinner than a single strand of DNA, coated the entire interior of the crystal glass. The moment the liquid touched the barrier, my dark energy dissolved the nanites, turning them into harmless carbon ash that dissolved into the alcohol. By the time Selene lifted the glass to her lips, the poison was completely neutralized, leaving only the pristine, expensive vintage. Selene lifted the flute, taking a small, elegant sip, completely oblivious to the silent execution she had just bypassed. She looked up at me, her cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth of the room, her silver eyes softening as she stepped closer. As Selene leans in to whisper a playful tease, the massive crystal chandelier above them suddenly turns jet-black and freezes mid-air, indicating someone else in the room is actively manipulating gravity.

Chapter 36: A Banquet Painted in Ash