I Will Kill The Author-Novel



A young man strode across the training ground, his shoulder-length black hair cascading down and shimmering with a light shade of dark violet under the sun.

His authoritative aura and a gaze filled with superiority compelled the crowd to step aside, clearing a path for him as he made his way forward.

As he moved forward, his unbuttoned black blazer, along with a red tie over a black shirt—the standard academic uniform—swayed rhythmically. 

With each step that he took, his teal-blue eyes fluttered across the training field in search of his intended target.

Trailing closely behind him was a group of cadets, around twenty in number, each exuding a similar air of authority, albeit less intimidating than the young man leading the way.

–"Hey, isn't that Kai Wiseman?"

–"Look at those teal-blue eyes! That's definitely a Wiseman, alright!"

–"I've heard Wisemans are renowned for their intelligence. They say a great war tactician emerges in their family with each passing generation."

–"Yeah! Didn't his father expose the Netyoive family's involvement in those terrorist activities?"

–"Yes, indeed. Now because of that, the Central Government has lost faith in the Netyoive household and is contemplating appointing the Wisemans as the new Royal family of the south in their stead."

–"Wow, so he's not only of noble birth but also about to become royalty? But can the Central Government actually strip a family of their Royal status?"

–"Of course, you idiot! The status of a Royal house is a hereditary governmental title granted by the Central Government. The Morningstars, Wrights, Netyoive, and Vermëir families— they all received their Royal titles directly from the Central Government ages ago. And since they hold the power to bestow such titles, it's only natural that they retain the authority to revoke them."

Unfazed by the murmurs emanating from the surrounding crowd, the young man continued his stride until his piercing gaze locked onto his intended target—Lucas Morningstar.

Upon reaching in front of Lucas, Kai abruptly came to a halt, causing the cadets trailing behind him to also pause in unison.

He scrutinised Lucas up and down.

Despite Lucas' disheveled state—drenched in sweat and wearing a P.E. uniform which was muddy from laying on the ground earlier—Kai refrained from commenting on his appearance.

Instead, he asked a single question even though he already knew the answer to the query he posed, "Are you… Lucas Morningstar?"

Lucas had long since put on a mask and carefully concealed his true emotions and intentions. Taking on a different persona, he began to act like a coward.

"I-I... Y-Yes, I am Lucas," he stammered, his voice quivering with nervousness.

Casting a sneaky glance, Lucas subtly looked behind Kai and caught sight of Quinn and Grace, who had quietly joined the ranks of cadets behind the Wiseman heir.

There they stood, the Young Elites, a group of esteemed heirs and descendants from prominent noble and influential families across the world. 

While not all of them, like Quinn and Alberto, held noble lineage now or since birth, their exceptional strength was more than enough for Kai to disregard their heritage and social status.

However, on the surface, Quinn distanced himself from any association with the Young Elites. 

Kai instructed him to act as though he was casually spending time with the group out of sheer boredom. 

When Quinn shared this revelation with Lucas, a wave of suspicion washed over him. 

He felt like it was as if Kai wanted to follow the plot of the – a plot that he shouldn't even be aware of.

"Hey!" Just as Kai was on the verge of delving into further inquiries with Lucas, Instructor Matterhorn's booming voice reverberated across the field.

With quick steps, he arrived by the side of the group and yelled: "What are you all here?! This isn't your class!"

Kai pivoted to face the tall and imposing figure of Instructor Matterhorn, offering him a seemingly polite smile. 

"Nor is it yours," he said in a tone laced with condescension, betraying the amicable smile on his face.

"What do you mean—"

Before Instructor Matterhorn could retort, the resonating sound of the class bell chimed twice, coming from every speaker scattered throughout the academy.

Tring, Tring—!!

"I mean that you should get going," Kai stated, a flicker of annoyance evident in his words, successfully riling up Instructor Matterhorn. 

Nevertheless, instructor Matterhorn had no choice but to clench his jaw and walk off.

After all, it was a rule of the academy that instructors and professors couldn't intervene in the matters of the cadets unless it was interfering with their class or a life-or-death situation.

"You all should move along too!" 

It was Alberto's commanding voice that suddenly pierced through the air, aimed at the surrounding crowd. 

His assertive tone compelled them to heed his words, prompting them to scatter and gradually walk away from the scene.

A few individuals couldn't help but steal glances over their shoulders as they walked away, curious about what Kai wanted from Lucas.

Amidst those who walked off, two cadets chose to stay behind—Kent, steadfastly by Lucas's side, and Nero, standing a little further away.

Alberto, like an agitated dog, bared his teeth in annoyance when he observed Nero's refusal to budge despite his earlier directive for everyone to disperse. 

However, noticing that Kai didn't seem to be minding his presence, Alberto refrained from voicing his frustrations.

Finally shifting his focus to the silver-haired boy before him, Kai directed his attention squarely at Lucas. 

"Khuuk!" Suddenly, Lucas felt like a car had fallen on him. 

It was Kai's mana pressure that he had forced onto the silver-haired boy to assert dominance.

And it was working. Lucas almost fell to his knees, but he quickly channeled mana into his knees to keep him on his feet.

Despite Lucas's evident trouble to even stand straight properly, Kai proceeded to pose his question with a composed demeanor and expected him to answer.

"I'll ask you this once," Kai began, his voice measured. "Were you the one who fought against Quinn during the mock war?"

"Ag-Against Quinn?!" Lucas exclaimed, his voice laced with genuine shock as his eyes widened. "I would be out of my mind to engage in a fight with someone of his caliber!"

"You must have seen Quinn leaving his assigned position on the map, right?" Kai pressed forward with a rhetorical question, his tone unwavering. "Where were you during that moment?"

"In the control room, stationed at our makeshift headquarters!" Lucas retorted, his teeth clenched as he fought to maintain his composure.

"Liar!" Kai's roar filled the air, increasing the intensity of his mana pressure and leaving Lucas in excruciating agony. 

"Arghuk!" His shoulders and knees felt as if they were being crushed, causing him to emit a pained groan.

He channeled more mana into his legs in a desperate attempt to not fall flat face on the ground.

"Hey, stop it!" Kent's voice erupted, his scythe materialising from his smart bracelet as he infused it with mana.

"Let him go!" Nero also yelled from a distance, rushing toward them with his longsword in his hand.

In response to their actions, the Young Elites positioned behind Kai summoned their weapons as well, prepared to intervene.

But before anyone could do anything, Kai raised his hand. This simple action of his made the cadets behind him stop.