Several prominent figures in the southern section exchanged highly amused, knowing looks.
"Take our hidden aristocratic families, for example," the host teased.
"Some have dedicated generations exclusively to the tea industry. Studying their tea-making techniques for the very first time can be quite an experience as their technique was gotten from their study the first day tea was invented to now. Their knowledge is extraordinary, their techniques are practically treated as a sacred art form…"The host paused, his grin widening as he leaned over the podium.
"…and their pride is just as impressive."
Loud laughter broke out among several of the senior officials and Grey Family elders seated in the southern section.
"The same goes for the Noble and aristocratic families dedicated to fine art, classical music, rare gemstones, historical artifacts, and countless other fields. In Elysia, mastery isn't simply a profession. For some families, it is a sacred legacy passed down through centuries."He smiled proudly, the gold ceiling lights reflecting off his face.
"That is what makes Elysia different. We preserve what came before us while continuing to create what comes next."
The applause grew louder, building into a roaring crescendo as the host finally stepped back from the center of the stage, leaving the platform open for the true battle to begin.
"And there we have it—our six great nations!"The host's voice boomed through the announcement system one last time as he offered a sharp bow and disappeared toward the back of the stage.
"But before we officially begin the competition, I hope you love opera…"
A brief, theatrical pause followed, the gold overhead lights dimming into a dramatic, sweeping violet.
"…because the Opera Queen is here to shine!"The announcement echoed grandly through the vast hall, and a beautiful woman stepped gracefully onto the stage.
Her presence was commanding, her flowing gown catching the spotlight as she drew the collective attention of the thousands of guests in the arena.
Meanwhile, at one of the large tables in the eastern section, the atmosphere was entirely detached from the stage.
Sophia calmly lifted her glass of orange juice, taking a slow, elegant sip as her soft eyes watched the performance.
Her posture was the absolute definition of a flawless, noble lady.
The wide table had thirteen seats arranged around it, with Aiden occupying the chair closest to her, his posture lazy and entirely unbothered by the spectacle.
Spread out around the rest of the dark wood table were his friends—Paul, Solomon, Prince, King, Drake, and Sam. S
ophia's "friend" Virtue sat with them as well, alongside four other high-ranking Noble girls from their circle.While the boys and the other girls focused entirely on the stage as the Opera Queen's voice began to swell, Virtue's attention began to wildly wander around the enormous hall.
The fake future Sophia had promised her was burning a hole in her mind, making her restless.
Her eyes eventually drifted past the media barriers, landing squarely on the luxurious VIP tables of the southern section.
She froze.
Sitting prominently among the distinguished global leaders and Grand Judges was a face she recognized instantly: Aiden's grandfather.
The moment her eyes locked onto the formidable old man, the toxic thought Sophia had so carefully planted in her mind returned with a violent, crushing force.
He's here to choose Ava as Aiden's wife.Her head began to spin with a sudden, suffocating surge of anger.
The jealousy was so overwhelming that she completely forgot Sophia had explicitly admitted the information might just be a servant's rumor.
At this point, any shred of logic or reason had been entirely pushed aside by her own desperation.
All Virtue could see, blazing in her mind, was the terrifying possibility of Ava successfully claiming the spot as Aiden's future wife.
The mere thought of her rival winning it all was enough to make her vision blur, her fingers tightening around her crystal glass until her knuckles turned white.
Right beside her, Sophia set her juice down with a soft, perfectly quiet clink, her gentle face remaining completely serene as the trap she had built began to spring itself.
On stage, the Opera Queen's voice swelled into a high, haunting crescendo, the powerful notes vibrating against the gold-leaf ceiling of the hall.
The melody was tragic, beautiful, and completely ignored by the occupants of the eastern table.
Sophia's sharp eyes caught the subtle, violent shift in Virtue's posture, but she didn't say a word.
Instead, a soft, perfectly serene smile played on her lips, expertly burying the dark, mocking thoughts swirling in her mind.
Just yesterday evening, Sophia had kept her promise.
She had hosted the intimate gathering at Aiden's house, dangling a golden opportunity in front of Virtue to finally win Aiden over.
But Aiden hadn't even spared the girl a single, passing glance.The idiot. Sophia thought, her chest humming with quiet amusement.
When trying to win Aiden legally failed, Virtue had resorted to desperation. She had planned to drug him. But the brainless fool had messed up the glasses and ended up drugging Paul instead. Virtue had spent the night in Paul's bed, waking up to cold cash thrown at her face like a common whore.
And yet, Virtue dared not make a sound or look for trouble. She knew exactly who Paul was—a notorious, volatile womanizer and a total psychopath who could ruin her life twice over if she crossed him. Especially since she was the one who had drugged him first.Sophia knew every single sordid detail. Why? Because Paul himself had proudly sent her the video.
The footage showed the exact moment Aiden and the rest of their friends had casually walked in on them the next morning.Sophia cast a brief, elegant side-glance across the table toward Paul.
He was currently watching the Opera Queen sing, his expression filled with genuine, unbothered interest, as if he hadn't spent the morning terrorizing their classmate.
After the group walked in, Paul had even casually offered Virtue to the other boys in the room, treating her like a cheap toy.
He had blackmailed Virtue into total silence. But Paul's twisted reason for sending Sophia the tape was what made the situation truly delicious.
The fool was desperately, psychopathically in love with Sophia.
In his warped, broken mind, sleeping with a girl who was close to Sophia allowed him to pretend he was closer to Sophia herself.Sophia smoothly returned her gaze to the stage, letting him play his little game.
She would let Paul be for now. After all, he was incredibly useful.Sophia had been the one who subtly made Paul aware that Virtue liked Aiden and was planning to drug him.
Then, she had put on a flawless performance in front of Paul—acting weak, shedding a few delicate tears, and sighing about how she was miserably stuck between Aiden's unwanted affection and her loyalty to her dear friend Virtue.
She had made it look like Virtue was ruthlessly using her saintly nature just to get close to Aiden.
Paul, acting the part of the white knight trying to win his queen's heart, had concocted the stupid, reckless idea to intercept Virtue's drug and sleep with her himself, knowing she would think he was Aiden.
He did it all just to please Sophia and eliminate a nuisance for her.
And Virtue had no idea. She didn't know Sophia was the mastermind who had explicitly told her that Aiden and she were only like siblings.
Sophia's ultimate goal was unfolding flawlessly. In Virtue's fractured, panic-stricken mind, Ava was already the absolute enemy. Because of the imaginary threat of Ava's engagement to Aiden, Virtue had been driven to drug him in the first place.
Now that the plan had backfired into a horrific nightmare, Virtue wouldn't blame Sophia, and she wouldn't blame Paul. She would blame everything squarely on Ava.
She would convince herself that Ava's existence was the sole reason she had been forced to take such extreme measures.
A sharp vibrato from the Opera Queen echoed through the hall, a dramatic shift in the music that seemed to punctuate Sophia's thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?"The whisper was sudden, a low, lazy breath right against the shell of Sophia's ear.Sophia didn't flinch. Her breathing didn't even skip a beat.
She turned her head just enough to meet Aiden's sleepy, unblinking eyes, her face melting into an expression of pure, innocent calm.
"Nothing, Aiden," Sophia said softly, her voice as smooth and sweet as the orange juice she had just swallowed.
Aiden leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other, his eyes already drifting away from Sophia as if he couldn't be bothered to sustain the conversation."
Aiden, I thought you would be sleeping at home. I didn't know you would actually show up here. This isn't exactly your cup of tea," Paul said, leaning forward.
Aiden slowly turned his head toward him, studying Paul's face with a heavy, sleepy gaze, as if he were looking at a particularly unfamiliar and boring species of insect.
"Aren't you supposed to be the cold one who doesn't talk unless spoken to?" Aiden murmured, his voice flat. "Even trying to start a conversation with you is so distasteful."
Paul's smirk died instantly.
Sam burst out laughing, slamming a hand on the table. "Aiden, I swear, you open your mouth and make people want to punch you so hard in the face."
Aiden didn't even look up; he simply flipped Sam off with a lazy extension of his middle finger.
"But seriously, Paul, who starts a conversation like that?" Prince added mockingly, eager to twist the knife.
Sensing the sudden, dangerous spike in the room's temperature, Solomon quietly reached beneath the table and caught Paul's hand, offering a firm, silent squeeze that told him to drop it.
Sam noticed the subtle retreat and smirked, inhaling deeply as he opened his mouth to fan the flames even further.
But before a single word could escape him, King casually reached across the space and shoved the sugary lollipop he had been about to lick straight into Sam's open mouth.Sam's eyes widened in sheer shock. "Mmph!"
"Stay quiet," King said, entirely unbothered, resting his chin in his hand.
Sophia shook her head with a soft, indulgent sigh at their ridiculous, boyish interaction, while her four other Noble friends giggled behind their manicured hands.
Across from them, Virtue felt a sudden surge of vicious satisfaction. She clutched her glass, a small smile playing on her lips.
At least the psychopathic Paul had been put in his place.
On the grand stage, the Opera Queen hit her final, ringing vibrato, bringing her performance to a dramatic close.
The vast hall instantly erupted into a thunderous wave of applause.
As the performer bowed and the golden lights shifted back to an expectant white, the host smoothly returned to the center of the platform.
"And now, it is time for our art competition!" the host's voice boomed through the high-end announcement system.
Behind him, the colossal curved screen illuminated with sleek, minimalist graphics.
"We will be testing our chosen elite students in several demanding categories: instrumental music, chess, painting, dancing, poetry, and even the architectural creation of a miniature city."
An electric current of excitement rippled through the Crownside and Averis rows.
"For the miniature-city challenge, only two students are permitted to work together. Every other category will be performed strictly individually," the host announced, raising a single hand.
"And for our very first competition—instrumental music!"
A brilliant spotlight swept across the polished black floor.
"Please come forward, choose your instrument, and prepare your first piece. Your initial challenge is a classic—a melody whose lyrics and chords were meticulously reconstructed from historical records dating back nearly two hundred years."
The screen blazed with the intricate details of the vintage composition.
"But that isn't all." The host's smile widened, his eyes glittering beneath the stage lights.
"You must take that old classic and fuse it with the latest musical genre to create something entirely new—a grand, modern melody that deeply respects the past while bringing it fiercely into the present."The press section went into a frenzy, camera shutters clicking rhythmically.
Down in the southern section, a king leaned intimately toward his queen, whispering a low comment against her ear.
The queen covered a small, graceful smile, their eyes tracking the stage as the competing schools made their moves.
Two girls from the Averis delegation rose from their crescent table, smoothing their flawless cream skirts as their section cheered them on.
From the eastern rows, a prominent boy from Crownside High stepped forward, his posture rigid with discipline as he took his place on the floor.
The crowd watched the three students settle.
But a few seconds later, another silhouette emerged from the backstage curtains.Ava.
She had been standing in the shadows just moments prior, a faint, bitter trace of cigarette smoke still clinging to her skin after taking one final, careless drag before stepping into the light.
But the moment her feet touched the polished black stage, any hint of rebellion vanished, replaced by an terrifying, magnetic gravity.
She walked onto the stage with an entirely different presence.Her ivory-white satin gown caught the spotlights instantly, the heavy, premium fabric gleaming like liquid pearl with every stride she took.
The top of the dress featured a low, softly draped cowl neckline that folded with breathtaking delicacy across her chest. Two mismatched straps held the gown in place—one a thin, minimalist fabric band, the other a delicate, shimmering string of pristine white pearls.
The gown was tightly, flawlessly tailored through her bodice and hips, tracing the dangerous, elegant lines of her figure before falling straight to the floor.
A dramatic, high-fashion slit climbed dangerously up her left thigh, revealing her slender leg down to the ankle whenever she moved.
From a floral clasp resting at her left hip, a long, additional panel of white satin cascaded down the side of the dress, rippling behind her like a liquid half-train that pooled around her feet.
The clasp itself was an absolute showstopper—a heavy, metallic rose-shaped brooch encrusted with tiny, microscopic crystals that fractured the light into a thousand dazzling sparks whenever she rotated her hips.
Through the high slit, a minimalist stiletto sandal flashed—a thin, elegant strap over her toes paired with a delicate, razor-thin ankle chain that glittered beneath the heavy silk hem.Her fiery red hair—usually a beautiful, chaotic mess—had been transformed into a work of art.
Every single vibrant strand had been pulled tightly back into a sleek, high bun at the crown of her head, smoothed down until the glossy, reflective surface caught the stage lights like polished glass.
A delicate, custom netted headpiece made entirely of interwoven white pearls rested over the bun like a finely crafted royal cap.
With her hair pulled back, her sharp ears and aristocratic jawline were completely exposed, framing the priceless jewelry adorning her face.
Long pearl drop earrings hung from her lobes, each formed from several perfectly round pearls arranged vertically before ending in a large, flawless teardrop pearl that brushed against her neck.
Around her throat rested a thick, three-layered pearl choker. The parallel strands sat neatly against her skin, perfectly mirroring the pearl strap of her gown.
With every single step Ava took toward the center of the stage, the pearls shifted gently, a soft, almost imperceptible clicking sound rhythmically tracking her movement.The entire hall seemed to completely pause. The whispering stopped.
The reporters froze.For
Ava reached the dead center of the stage and came to a halt.
The spotlights converged, locking her in a blinding, golden glow as she stood before the instruments, her unblinking eyes scanning the crowd.
Ava walked gracefully across the polished black stage toward a breathtaking glass piano.
The platform was already filled with a variety of instruments wheeled out by the staff. The male Crownside student stepped forward, lifting a violin to his chin, while the two girls from Averis exchanged a swift, tense look.
One stepped toward a silver flute; the other settled behind a heavy wooden cello.High above them, the colossal screen flashed with the digital musical sheets.
The audience looked on with confusion—the challenge seemed nearly impossible. How were they supposed to take a classical melody from two hundred years ago and seamlessly fuse it with the chaotic, bass-heavy synth genres trending this exact year?