CHAPTER 32: POLARIS RICH ELITES

The Press Club door swung open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Cecil shot to her feet, hard lines forming on her temples as she prepared to scold whoever dared to act so rudely. But when she saw Edwin, her glare shifted into a frown of confusion.

Edwin strode toward her in wide steps, waving the newspaper he had pulled from the board. "What’s this ’Shadow King’ supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone stern.

Cecil narrowed her eyes. "It’s the job of the Press Club to reveal anything we discover in the school, as long as it’s the truth."

"Truth?" Edwin’s voice grew colder. "One more paper about this, and you’ll face expulsion."

His verdict made Cecil’s eyes widen. "So... he’s truly a King tier."

Edwin placed a firm hand on the long table. "Matters of King tier summoners grow beyond you, beyond your family, and even beyond this school. If you draw the attention of the authorities with baseless rumors, you won’t walk away unscathed. Remember, you’re here to be scouted by them."

"If you came here yourself, then it means Godfrey truly has King tier potential. But why would the authorities flinch at someone who only has potential? Most of the time, those with so-called potential never truly reach King tier." Cecil shot back.

’He is an unclassified summoner.’ The headmaster’s voice echoed in Edwin’s head. His eyes hardened as he glared at Cecil before turning away. "Drop it. Focus on your studies."

After he left, Cecil clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "Ahhh!" she screamed, scattering papers across the room in a violent burst. With a furious kick, she struck the table. The wooden slab slammed against the ceiling and crashed down in two broken halves.

"He’s just fatherless trash who got famous because his father died before some stupid orc!" Her teeth ground together as rage twisted her features. "Who exactly is Godfrey Daniels, that the school threatens me just to protect him?"

Her glare sharpened, complex thoughts flashing in her eyes. "They even suspended Dale..." she muttered.

***

The next day, students began boarding two light-blue coach buses. Already seated, Godfrey looked out the window just as Isolde approached with her luggage.

His lips curled upward when he noticed her hair untied, there was always a natural, almost regal charm to her when she let it flow free instead of binding it in a ponytail.

Once her luggage was stowed, she boarded the bus, stepping down the aisle until she paused at Godfrey’s row. The boy sitting beside him froze, glancing between her and Godfrey.

Isolde’s golden-orange eyes flared subtly as she glared at the boy. Godfrey only shrugged, feigning innocence. The boy panicked under her gaze, quickly scrambling out of the seat.

Isolde slid in with a faint, satisfied smile. Godfrey’s shoulders trembled as he chuckled quietly, until Isolde’s head snapped toward him.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, waving a hand.

She clicked her tongue and pulled out her EarPods, but before she could put them in, Godfrey plucked one. She pouted but wore the other, pressing play on Shooting Star’s music. Soon, both of them leaned back in their seats, sharing the rhythm in silence.

From the back of the bus, Snow leaned against his headrest, his eyes fixed on them like twin blades. He closed them slowly, his thoughts dark. ’I’ll put him in his place soon enough. His summons may threaten the likes of Cecil and the others, but before mine... they’ll be nothing but statues.’

To Snow, Godfrey was nothing more than trash left too long in the bin. For now, he would focus on growing stronger during the field trip and wait for Dale and the others to return.

When Edwin and the school nurse boarded the lead bus, the convoy finally set off. They rolled smoothly out of the school gates, but soon slowed near a junction choked with traffic.

Godfrey’s eyes wandered outside. He saw civilians using their summons to earn a living, traffic police with heads shifted into snarling Doberman giants through Echo, and window washers gliding along skyscraper panes with Echo-grown wings. Summons had made daily life easier, but they had also made violence far more common.

"Isn’t that XYZ? The famous supermodels who are almost overtaking Shooting Star and they’re actors too?!" one of the students behind him gasped.

Godfrey looked up and saw the forty-two-story Pagoda Guild branch towering above. A massive screen near the top displayed the faces of three stunningly handsome men, each with their summons, handsome even beyond Snow. Shooting Star appeared on the screen as well, alongside entertainers and combatants who cleared dungeons.

Apparently, the more famous you were, the higher your image appeared on the building. Guilds in this world weren’t just for adventurers, they were platforms for superstardom. Fighters, entertainers, influencers; all could rise through their ranks. And yet, all remained under the supervision of the Authorities’ agents.

Godfrey’s lip curled faintly. He had no good opinion of either.

"Man, it would be great to become an elite member of the Pagoda Guild," another student sighed wistfully.

The rest of the journey passed peacefully, until the buses slowed as a massive, swirling blue portal appeared on the horizon.

The moment they crossed, the bustling metropolis vanished. A vast desert stretched before them, dunes rolling like waves, rock spires jutting skyward, and the horizon shimmering under a harsh sun.

"The mana here feels thicker," Isolde murmured.

Godfrey raised an eyebrow. To him, the air felt no different, only the scenery had changed.

The asphalt road cut straight through the desert, leading toward a sprawling city built around a glittering oasis. Above it hung a golden, translucent dome, like a bowl turned upside down over a plate.

"If you’d like to know," Edwin announced, "that dome is the innate skill of Manhattan’s King tier, the Dragon Tortoise."

The students marveled as the buses passed through the glowing barrier and entered the city.

Just then, two white coach buses drew up alongside, matching their pace. The Manhattan students stiffened when they saw the logo, Polaris Summoners High School.

Polaris was as famous as it was flamboyant: a school for the rich, where preferential treatment was bought, and students were bred for guild careers. Unlike Manhattan’s packed buses, Polaris carried barely twenty students, spread across two buses for comfort and space.

The first bus held the boys of House Orion, all third-year students. The second held the girls of House Lyra.

At Vegas Prime Resort, both convoys stopped. Students filed out, their eyes immediately sizing up the opposition.

From House Orion, three boys stood out among the rest with their looks and aura. A tall gray-haired youth with an aloof expression walked in the center, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. To his right was a broad-shouldered, deep-brown-skinned boy with his hair tied upward, and to his left, a long-haired youth with an eyepatch, though both his eyes were perfectly fine.

"Alistair," Nathaniel, the brown-skinned boy, murmured to the gray-haired one. "The white-haired boy is Snow. And the girl..."

"Is Isolde," Lucian, the eyepatch-wearer, finished, his gaze sharp on her.

"A true Pendragon. But who’s that?" A girl with deep-blue hair, Rosalind, second only to the pink-haired beauty beside her among House Lyra’s elites, lifted a brow at the sight of Godfrey walking side by side with Isolde.

"Apart from Snow and Isolde, the rest of them aren’t worth mentioning. I didn’t see him in the reports," Nathaniel replied, glancing dismissively at Godfrey.

"Is he her knight? Manhattan’s Kings and Queens usually have knights," Rosalind mused.

"Isn’t the knight usually the second-strongest?" Lucian countered. "I’ve never even heard of that boy."

"Then who is he?" Seraphina, the pink-haired girl, finally spoke.

"Who cares, I bet a hundred grand Seraphina could turn him into her puppet before this trip is over."

Lucian’s words riled up the others. "Two hundred grand for three days. You don’t expect Polaris queen to spend that long turning a no name into a puppet."

Nathaniel laughed. On the other hand, Seraphina tucked her pink hair behind her ear. "I’m only interested in Snow, that boy, whoever he is, is not worth my time."

...

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