The Legendary Hero Is An Academy Honors Student Novel นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Today, their achievements would finally be recognized before the entire academy. --- Among the graduates, seven students stood above all others. Out of fifteen finalists, these seven had earned the academy's highest honors—not because of their noble birth, but because of their extraordinary accomplishments and unwavering dedication. Some had established free hospitals for the poor. Others had revolutionized magical research, achieved mastery in swordsmanship, advanced academic knowledge, or transformed commerce across the continent. Their names had already become legends within the academy. They were: Luke Dean Asterion — eldest son of Duke Asterion.

Then we'll have a chance to find his weakness. 'What might his weakness be?' 'Money,' Lily answered immediately. 'All his money!' Caleb added calmly, 'Not just money. His empire. He has a secret offshore trust fund. That is the real core of his business empire. What we need is control of that fund.' I gasped. What kind of children were these two? 'Mommy, just do as we say,' Caleb comforted me. "First of all, you need a new phone that cannot be tracked.'

1:30 in the afternoon. I arrived at the cafe near campus half an hour early. It did not take long to spot Cedric Barnes by the window. He was the law school's famously aloof heartthrob–cold, distant, untouchable. And in the game, he was known as the top swordsman. Right now, he was staring at his phone, something rare flickering in his expression–anticipation. I walked over in ten-centimeter heels, my steps slow and deliberate, carrying myself with effortless confidence.

No signal, no contacts, no way to call my mother and tell her where I was. But the files remained, even the novel: 'Saintess of Hauntspire High'; and the manuscript, which I retitled: 'Villainess of Aetherion Academia.' I had read them both cover to cover during the month at Duskbane Estate, hunched under blankets, scrolling until my eyes burned. I knew the plot. I knew the characters. I knew the twenty VIP students in this year's freshman class, their alliances, their betrayals, their endings.

“If I were lying, would your blood burn like it does now? Would your body remember her scream? Search your heart, Rory. The truth has always been there.” I pressed a hand to my chest. A pulse of something raw and furious throbbed under my skin. Heat. Pain. Magic. Tears streamed faster. “Who? Who did it? Tell me!” Selene’s smile sharpened. “You want names. You want payback. But can you handle what you’ll hear?” “Tell me!” I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat like an injured animal. For a moment, her gaze softened, almost pitying. “It was not an enemy. It was not a stranger. It was someone inside the Academy. Someone I loved. Someone you now stand beside.”

His hands were clenched so tightly on the desk in front of him that his knuckles gleamed white. His gaze burned into me, dark, sharp, filled with something I couldn’t name. Rage. Fear. Hunger. And then his hand slipped, leaving a smear of blood on the wood where his nails had cut his skin. He didn’t move toward me. Didn’t speak. But the weight of his stare followed me out. By nightfall, the whole Academy was buzzing. Every corridor I walked, whispers followed. Lyra Hawthorne isn’t powerless. She’s marked. And every Alpha knows it now.

“Because she’s Lucius’s girlfriend?” Elara let out a short, humorless laugh. “She wishes. No, because she’s cruel. And she hates competition. You’re prettier than her, which means you’re already on her list.” With that cheery thought, she reopened her book, signaling the end of our conversation. I sat down on my empty bed, the mattress sighing under my weight. The reality of my situation finally crashed down on me. I was in a magical academy, surrounded by powerful beings, and I had nothing. My fire was gone, my shapeshifting locked away. The boy I had helped save was now a powerful leader who looked at me like I was a problem he had to manage. My only connection to my past was a legendary b

Not from a storm—from the barrier woven into the sky itself. A warning. A challenge. Elarion didn’t flinch. He stepped forward, boots crunching against marble flecked with gold. The path ahead was lined with statues of former legends—heroes, monsters, and betrayers. Some faces were covered in moss, others cracked by time. All of them were dead. A crowd had formed at the outer court—new students, nobles in gilded cloaks, heirs to nations. They whispered among themselves, voices hushed and urgent as he passed.