Amon, The Legendary Overlord

Chapter 285: Between Admiration and Envy in the Classroom

285  Chapter 285: Between Admiration and Envy in the Classroom

From the moment Amon crossed the threshold of the classroom, an unmistakable murmur spread among the desks. His steps echoed with purpose, and he, almost magnetically, attracted every gaze.

His recent discoveries had become incessant topics of conversation among the students. And being the only Innate of level 3 in the first year was no small feat. Rumors whispered that not even second-year students possessed such skill.

To many, Amon transcended normal ability; he was an anomaly, an unshakable force of nature. While some fervently debated his innate talent, others attributed his rise to dedication and hard work.

After all, since arriving at the university, Amon seemed to be on a continuous mission, battling relentlessly. And yet, he still found time to balance his academic life with a romantic whirlwind, having numerous girlfriends.

Intrigued whispers echoed through the hallways: "Is he still human? How does he manage all this?" In secret meetings and hushed conversations, students fervently discussed the enigma that was Amon.

Some critics tried to cast shadows over his reputation, whispering about possible external benefactors or even a "sugar mommy" providing him with unlimited resources.

However, these rumors were like pebbles thrown into a vast ocean – they barely made ripples before being consumed by the predominant admiration for Amon.

The academic world wasn't that simple. If it was just about having access to resources, the university halls would be filled with prodigies. Of course, having the right materials could make all the difference, but without genuine effort and determination, how could one truly reach for the stars? The murmurs and envious glances circulating were merely reflections of bitter minds, distilling the acidity of jealousy.

This jealousy, however, was promptly dismissed by the more enlightened. Why waste time on such feelings when they could simply strive harder? After all, Amon wasn't born with a magical aura that made him irresistible. The truth was, upon reaching innate level 1, many underwent a transformation that enhanced their beauty.

Within this atmosphere of speculation, a tall and attractive young man, with somewhat delicate features and a proudly upturned nose, spoke up. He appeared to be the typical playboy, the kind easily ensnared by the claws of older, powerful women.

"Amon," he began, his voice dripping with mockery, "can you clarify something for us? Is there a secret benefactor behind your success? A 'sugar mommy', perhaps?"

The room was thick with tension, Lana's gaze flashed with indignation. The sound of her heel echoed as she positioned herself in front of Marlon, defending Amon from the cheap provocation. "Marlon," she started, her voice sharp, "are you projecting your own ghosts onto Amon?"

Marlon, with his imposing posture but eyes revealing a hint of insecurity, replied sarcastically: "Dear Lana, I know you have a crush on him, but control your emotions. And don't interfere where you're not called."

Marlon, much as he hated to admit, had his own demons. Malicious comments labeled him the 'favorite' of a wealthy city madame. Although these rumors deeply hurt him, at one point he thought, "If they already label me this way, why not take advantage of the situation?" However, what ate at him most was seeing Amon, immaculate in the eyes of most, while he himself was the subject of ridicule and gossip.

Amon, ever serene, raised an intrigued look to Marlon, the innocence in his eyes making the scene all the more contrasting. "What are you hinting at?"

Marlon's laughter sounded harsh and full of malice. "Oh, please, don't play dumb." He moved a little closer, his voice low and venomous. "Everyone knows that behind a boy like you, there's always a generous madame, ready to offer 'resources' in exchange for... favors."

The room's atmosphere became even more charged, almost as if the air had thickened, and everyone could feel the electricity between the two. Amon stared intently at Marlon, with a challenging calmness contrasting the other's simmering rage.

"It seems you're quite the expert on the subject," Amon's voice rang out clear and detached, as if he was commenting on the weather.

Marlon's eyes sparked with fury. His formerly superior demeanor crumbled into a glimpse of unrestrained anger. "How dare you...!"

"Dare what?" Amon retorted, his eyebrow raised in a mix of challenge and amusement.

"I know what you are!" Marlon shouted, his words filled with impotent bitterness.

Amon's serenity, however, remained unshaken. "Whatever you think you know about me, why does it concern you? Moreover," he continued, his voice dropping to a cutting coldness, "if you truly wish to meddle in my affairs, I'm willing to settle this on the field. A duel."

Marlon seemed like an explosive mix of anger and frustration. "Damn arrogant..."

Amon, with a piercing gaze, released an imposing aura, so palpable that it seemed to electrify the room. "The choice is yours: do you accept the challenge, or would you rather continue to pester me with your theatrics?"

The effect on Marlon was immediate. He stepped back, his face paling, contrasting with his previous rage. The humiliation, compounded by his helplessness, only fed the resentment burning in his chest.

The moment Amon made his remark, the room seemed to bathe in a wave of amused surprise. The gazes centered on the dispute now revealed a blend of amusement and anticipation.

"That's all? Was that what you had to show?" Amon's tone was nonchalant, almost bored, as if he expected more from an opponent who presented himself so boastfully.

Marlon, initially such a dominant figure, seemed to have wilted under the pressure. His gaze, once filled with disdain, now searched for an escape.

Lana, with a mischievous smile on her face and a hint of vengeance in her eyes, seized the moment. "You put on such a spectacle, Marlon, but back down when it's showtime? What a letdown!"

Laughter spread throughout the venue. Another student, amused by the situation, added: "Really, why come onto the playing field if you're not even going to try?"

Another voice joined in the chorus of jeers. "Ah, of course, he's just envious of Amon. Trying to tarnish his reputation, huh? How low!"

The voices intertwined in a symphony of mockery and laughter. That university, after all, was one of the most renowned educational establishments in the human galaxy. Every student there carried the legacy of great lineages, and while they respected worthy opponents, they never missed a chance to expose impostors.

Marlon, surrounded by mockery and condescending looks, felt both frustrated and enraged, yet he didn't dare duel Amon.

"It's clear now, Marlon," one student whispered to another. "Even before, when Amon had barely reached Innate Level 1, Marlon wouldn't have had the courage to face him. Now, with Amon ascending to Level 3, it's pure delusion to think he would dare."

The brutal reality set in. Amon's journey from a rookie to a power at Level 3 only served to further highlight the gaping difference between the two. And in the heart of that room, the truth was evident: challenging Amon was a journey for which Marlon wasn't confident and wouldn't dare undertake.

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