CHAPTER 53: MEETING ERON

Here’s the continuation you asked for, written in a grounded, anime-style tone with the requested elements and about 1300 words:

The arena was already buzzing when Class Zero stepped out of the East Wing. You could feel it in the air—tension that stuck to the skin, like static before a storm. Students from different classes were already piling in, groups gathered in small clusters, talking, laughing, some pretending not to notice Class Zero as they passed.

But the glances were always there.

Some masked with fake smiles, others blatant with unease.

Reia adjusted her jacket without looking up. "Feels like everyone’s watching."

"They are," Silas muttered.

Vyn didn’t say a word. She never did unless she had to. She walked at the back, silent and still like a shadow no one could touch. Lucian led the group with that same calm step, not too fast, not slow. Just steady.

Evelyn walked beside him. "They’re gonna expect something crazy from us."

"They always do," he replied.

The path to the arena cut through one of the main courtyards, wide and clean with white stones and climbing vines that hadn’t quite bloomed yet. They were halfway across when someone stepped into their path.

"Ah, so this is Class Zero," the man said, his voice smooth, charming, and too deliberate to be natural.

They stopped automatically.

Even Lucian.

Not because he was impressed.

Because he recognized the voice.

"Eron Thorn," Evelyn whispered, eyes widening. "That’s the Thorn patriarch."

The man stopped a few steps from them. "You’ve caused quite a stir, you know. The instructors can’t stop whispering. The forums have been flooded with clips and comments. And my son... well. Garrick tells me you’re terrifying." He chuckled.

Silas squinted. "He doesn’t sound terrified."

"Oh, he is," Eron smiled wider. "He just doesn’t show it well."

Reia stepped behind Lucian slightly. Her instincts told her something was off. Too smooth. Too confident.

Eron’s gaze scanned across each of them like he was browsing auction pieces. It wasn’t lust or hate. Just that cold, polite curiosity rich men carried when they knew they could buy anything if they pressed hard enough.

Then his eyes stopped on Vyn.

"My niece," he said.

The words hit like a sudden drop in pressure.

Evelyn’s head snapped toward Vyn. "What?"

Even Reia blinked.

Silas raised a brow. "Wait, she’s a Thorn?"

Lucian didn’t react.

But his mind sharpened like a blade.

Vyn just stood there, blank-faced, unmoved. If she was shocked, she didn’t show it. If she was angry, she buried it.

Eron stepped closer, tone shifting slightly—like he was claiming something. "Vyn Thorn. My brother’s child. A little recluse with talent no one quite knew how to handle. Until now, I suppose."

He smiled again. "You’ve done well to grow this much. I look forward to watching your progress."

Lucian’s eyes stayed locked on the man. Not moving. Not blinking.

He knew that voice. That posture. That smile.

Eron Thorn was the same man who, in another lifetime, smiled like that while whispering to world leaders, bribing hunters, and poisoning the bloodlines of enemies like Lucian. A man who built his empire not on strength, but manipulation. A master of invisible chains.

And the poison that ended Lucian’s last life?

Came from Eron’s lab.

It wasn’t rage that stirred in Lucian now.

It was something colder.

Eron’s smile lingered. "I’m surprised you haven’t introduced yourselves. No bows? No greetings? Surely, I’m not that intimidating."

Lucian stepped forward, just a little. Close enough that Eron’s grin twitched for a second.

Then he walked past him.

Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t even look.

Just walked.

Reia blinked, then followed.

Evelyn frowned, unsure, then moved after him too.

Silas glanced at Vyn. "You okay?"

She nodded once. Didn’t speak.

Then walked.

Silas went after her.

Eron turned slowly, smile cracking at the edges as he watched Class Zero walk away like he wasn’t even worth the breath. For a second, he didn’t move.

Then he laughed.

Soft. But hollow.

The kind of laugh that sounded more like a hiss behind silk.

"I see," he said quietly.

No one heard it except the guards nearby. And they didn’t dare speak.

Eron stood there for a moment longer, his smile fully gone now, eyes narrowing at Lucian’s back as it disappeared into the crowd. There was something in that stare.

Not hate.

Not surprise.

But interest.

Intense, calculating interest.

He turned to one of his aides. "Get me everything we have on Lucian Black."

The man nodded and vanished.

Meanwhile, inside the arena, the atmosphere was shifting fast. Massive floating screens hovered above the coliseum-style structure. Rows of seats were already filled, and the buzzing crowd grew louder as rumors spread.

"Did you see who Eron just talked to?"

"Was that Vyn? Vyn Thorn?!"

"No way. The Thorn bloodline’s got another one?!"

"Class Zero’s stacked..."

"They say Lucian beat five assassins alone this morning..."

The noise grew louder with every rumor.

But Class Zero didn’t react. They entered the lower prep zone without a word, boots echoing down the metallic corridor as the sound above faded into muffled roars.

Inside the locker prep room, Athena waited. Her arms crossed.

She glanced at them, then at the security footage playing on the small wall screen. "You met Eron."

Lucian didn’t answer.

Athena tilted her head slightly. "Careful around him. He’s powerful. Not in the flashy way... but the quiet kind. The kind that rewrites contracts while smiling. The kind that has people killed with silk gloves."

Reia pulled her gloves tighter. "We noticed."

Vyn sat on the bench near the wall, eyes fixed on the arena.

Athena looked at her for a moment. "You don’t owe him anything."

Vyn didn’t reply.

Athena turned toward Lucian. "You don’t like him."

He finally spoke. "I know what he is."

"Same."

No more was said about it.

Instead, she turned to the full group.

"The inter-class matches start in ten. You won’t be fighting today. But you’ll be watching everything. Take notes. Learn patterns. Spot flaws."

Silas scratched his head. "What’re we looking for?"

"Future enemies."

Evelyn’s eyes flicked up. "You really think the other classes can match us now?"

"No," Athena said. "But numbers matter. And ego makes people do stupid things. They won’t come at you one-on-one. They’ll plan. Schemes, ambushes, dirty tricks. That’s the game now."

Reia exhaled. "Great."

Athena looked at Lucian again. "You especially. The whispers around you are getting louder. They’re starting to think you’re something more than just a strong rookie. That kind of attention always draws fire."

Lucian said nothing.

Athena didn’t expect him to.

She glanced back toward the entrance. "Head to the main seats. I reserved a private box for you. Watch closely. You’ll be up soon enough."

They filed out.

The crowd inside was louder now—cheering as the first match began. A team from Class Six was entering the ring. Five against five. The arena below shifted terrain settings, metal panels folding and unfolding to create a rocky battlefield with low visibility and jagged edges.

Silas leaned over the railing. "Kinda looks fun."

Reia raised a brow. "Your definition of fun needs help."

Vyn stayed quiet, but her eyes didn’t miss a movement below.

Evelyn pulled her hair back into a loose tie. "Guess we wait our turn."

Lucian stood at the edge of the booth.

Arms folded.

Watching.

Not the fight.

But the crowd.

Somewhere in there... eyes were watching him back.