Chapter 20
Twenty minutes prior to the second exam, two of the professors had gathered in a small, sunlit office. There were shelves lined with dusty books and piles of neatly stacked papers filled the room, while a faint scent of parchment and ink lingered throughout.
Seris rested her head on one of the desks, stretching her arms forward with a tired sigh, while Lucian sorted through a stack of paperwork.
“This is boringggg…” Seris whined. “When is the mock battle going to begin? I feel like I’m dying here.”
Lucian paid her no mind, continuing to sift through the documents as if she weren’t even there.
With a pout, Seris stood up, walked around behind him, and poked his cheek.
“Come on, say something, stop ignoring me,” she huffed, acting more like a child desperate for attention than a professor.
Lucian swatted her hand away without even looking up. “Please keep things appropriate during work, Professor Seris.”
“It’s only the two of us here. Why act so strict?” She tilted her head, a finger under her chin, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Don’t tell me… you’re worried I might distract you?”
“...”
Seris stepped closer, her presence pressing just a little against his back, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper.“If you’re not going to say anything, I’ll just take it as a yes.”
Before he could react, she slipped her arms around his neck, and Lucian stiffened.
“You know, Lucian, I—”
“I see both of my professors are enjoying themselves right now.” A voice suddenly spoke from behind them, making them both freeze.
Seris immediately let go and spun around, her eyes landing on the source of the voice. A man with golden eyes stood behind them, a faint look of amusement playing across his face.
“H-Headmaster Thalor! Wh-what brings you here?!” she stammered, her face flushing red.
“Can’t I come to see how my professors are doing? Though… I suppose I interrupted something,” Thalor said
“H-How long have you been watching…?” Seris asked, her face still flushed with embarrassment.
“Maybe from the beginning or just the very end. Who’s to say?” he replied with a teasing glint in his golden eyes. “But do enlighten me, what exactly you're planning to do?”
Steam seemed to rise from Seris’s head as she flailed her arms around wildly.
“It’s nothing! I-I wasn’t planning on doing anything!” she blurted before ducking her head, face burning. “I’ll excuse myself now!”
Without waiting for a response, she bolted out of the room in a blur. Thalor watched her go with clear amusement before turning back to Lucian, who wore an awkward expression.
“You know she’s right—you’re far too serious all the time. Maybe take a break once in a while.”
Lucian pressed a hand to his forehead with a faint sigh. “I’m fine, Headmaster. I’m just doing my job, that’s all.”
Thalor chuckled lightly. “So, Lucian, how long do you think you keep hiding behind that facade? You should know by now, Seris—”
The door suddenly swung open, and Axton stepped in, a confused look on his face.
“Hey, Lucian, did something happen? Seris came running out looking all flustered,” he said, then paused as his gaze landed on Thalor standing beside Lucian.
“A-ack! Headmaster, I didn’t expect you here. How have you been?” Axton asked, bowing his head slightly.
“As usual. I want to retire already—dealing with these noble families is more than enough,” Thalor replied, a brief scowl crossing his face. Anyway, I came today because I’ll be watching the mock battles myself this year.”
Both Axton and Lucian stared at Thalor, taken aback by his unexpected declaration.
“Are you serious, Headmaster? You never bothered with these before—what made you change your mind this year?” Axton asked, incredulity clear in his voice.
Thalor simply smiled, gazing out the window. “Something tells me this year’s battles are going to be… interesting. Part of me is also curious to see how the Duke of Evermoon’s daughter will perform.”
He snapped his fingers. “Alright, enough chatter. Let’s move on to the exam—I’m looking forward to seeing how the students will perform.”
With that, they made their way toward the arena. Seris was already there, waiting for them. She tried to act nonchalant; however, her face still carried the faint flush of embarrassment. Her gaze flicked toward Lucian, but he acted as though nothing had happened—leaving her quietly frustrated.
Axton noticed the tension but decided it was best not to pry. Thalor walked to the center, taking a deep breath, as if reminiscing about days long past.
“This is oddly nostalgic. It’s been years since I last set foot here. I’m glad to see that, in some ways, nothing has really changed.”
Up ahead, students were beginning to pour into the arena, Thalor observed them for some time, then commenting.
“There seem to be some promising students this year.”
“Not only that,” Lucian added, “thanks to your efforts, the number of commoner students has increased this year as well.”
“Is that so? I guess my time butting heads with Malrick finally paid off after all,” Thalor said with a faint smile.
Whoosh.
Thalor’s eyes narrowed as he sensed an unusual presence in the crowd. He snapped his head towards a boy standing in the crowd—but Thalor wasn’t focused on the boy; his attention was fixed on the sword behind him. Shock flickered on his face for a brief moment before returning to normal.
“The Sword of Volsung? That shouldn’t be possible.”
He had read of it once—the Sword of Volsung, one of Volsung’s three holy relics. A weapon capable of cutting through everything, even the fabric of existence itself. For centuries, emperors and warriors alike had sought to claim it, yet all had failed. Unlike ordinary blades, the Sword of Volsung possessed a consciousness of its own—it chooses its wielders.
In the end, he resolved to keep a close watch on the boy—and pay him a visit once the exam was over.
“I yield!” one of the combatants managed to gasp, just as the opponent fist froze mere inches from his face.
“The match has concluded. The winner of this match is Zarek!” Professor Axton’s voice rang clearly across the arena.
Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, stomping their feet in excitement, and clapping respectfully. I joined in as well, more out of courtesy than interest.
I nudged Kaelon’s elbow, who was standing right next to me.
“Hey, it’s your turn next. How’re you feeling?”
“Never been better,” he replied with a smirk. “Looking forward to pummeling that son of a bitch, Dorian.”
“You sure? Next thing I know, it’s going to be you sprawled on the ground.”
“Shut up and mind your own business. You should be more worried about your match with Lyra.”
I leaned forward against the railings. “It’s not like my reputation’s good either way right now. Fighting her or not fighting her doesn’t change a damn thing.”
At that moment, Professor Axton’s voice rang out across the arena,
“Next round—Kaelon versus Dorian!”
I gave Kaelon a firm slap on the back. “Hit him hard… and throw a few extra punches for me.”
“Please,” Kaelon scoffed, flashing a smug grin. “Just sit back and watch how it’s done.” With that, he strode onto the stage.
In the arena, Kaelon stood face-to-face with Dorian. His hand clenched into a tight fist, knuckles whitening as if he could barely contain the urge to strike then and there. The two locked eyes. Dorian’s mouth curled into a mocking sneer.
“Hah. Kaelon, my old friend. Tell me—did you crawl here just to get humiliated again?”
Kaelon’s lips curled into a sharp grin. “Funny, coming from someone who’s been hiding behind his three lackeys all this time.”
“What? Envious I’m smart enough to win without getting my han—” Dorian began, but then felt a sharp pain on his face. He touched his cheek, feeling a warm trickle of blood running down toward the corner of his mouth.
“Are you done yapping? If so, then come catch these hands,” Kaelon snapped.
Dorian trembled, a vein bulging at his temple. He glared at Kaelon, murderous intent simmering in his eyes.
“You’re going to regret that, you vermin!” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Fire burst
Dorian thrust his hands forward, unleashing an eruption of flame hurtling straight toward Kaelon.
Kaelon jumped to the side, narrowly dodging the attack, but Dorian was relentless. Before he could recover, Dorian was already in front of him, launching another fire burst—this time at point-blank range.
“U-urgh!?” Kaelon grunted, barely managing to shield himself as the spell slammed into him, sending him skidding across the arena floor.
“You’ve always been pathetic—a disgrace to your father, and the scion of Eldritch,” Dorian spat, walking toward Kaelon
“Tell me. What could you do? Do you really think you’re able to save that family of yours?”
PTOOH. Kaelon spat out a bit of blood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He muttered a spell under his breath, and a surge of energy erupted beneath his feet, propelling him forward at high speed toward Dorian.
Dorian was taken aback but quickly recovered, managing to evade the tackle. Kaelon, anticipating, twisted his body midair, landing a clean kick aimed at his torso. Reinforcing his fist with mana, he immediately followed up with a punch aimed at Dorian’s jaw.
Dorian caught Kaelon’s fist just in time, their arms locked in a deadly deadlock. Their eyes met, burning with pure killing intent.
“There’s no way I’m losing to trash like you!” Dorian growled, “By the time I’m done with you, I’m going to enjoy toying—URHHH?!”
Before he could finish, Kaelon slammed his forehead into Dorian’s face with bone-jarring force. A sharp crack echoed through the arena as Dorian stumbled back, blood trickling from his nose.
“You bastard! You tarnish the honor of nobility with such filthy tactics!”
Kaelon charged forward, eyes burning with rage. “Like you’re one to talk—after taking everything my father ever worked for!”
Dorian created some distance, his hands weaving through the air as he unleashed a flurry of spells toward Kaelon. Fireballs and jagged shards of ice streaked through the arena, but Kaelon didn’t flinch. He barreled through the onslaught, letting the attacks graze him, and in an instant, he closed in, ready to strike.
Before he could reach him, Dorian snatched a handful of dirt from the arena floor, flinging it toward Kaelon’s eyes, blinding him temporarily.
“Do you think that will save you?!” Kaelon shouted, continuing his charge. Sparks of lightning leapt between Kaelon’s fingers as he seized Dorian by the hair. Mana surged through his hands.
Thunderlash
A jagged bolt of lightning emerged from Kaelon’s palms, striking Dorian squarely in the head. Dorian fell back, convulsed violently. His hair stood on end while he was screaming in pain, foam forming at his mouth. Still clutching Dorian’s violet hair, Kaelon slammed another charged punch at his face, throwing him across the arena.
Kaelon leaped on Dorian, pinning him down as he rained down a brutal barrage of punches.
“S-stop… I giv—” Dorian tried to speak, but Kaelon’s fists silenced him.
Professor Axton rushed forward, his staff frantically waving, “Stop! That’s enough!” He grabbed Kaelon back to prevent the assault from escalating any further.
Dorian laid sprawled on the ground, twitching and unconscious. The adrenaline appears to wear off as Kaelon collapses beside him, utterly exhausted. Medical personnel soon arrived, carefully lifting Dorian onto a stretcher, carrying him away from the scene.
Professor Axton let out a weary sigh, then raised his voice to announce clearly across the arena,
“The match is over! Kaelon is the winner of this round!”
The audience reacted with a mix of awe and disapproval. Commoners cheered and clapped, reveling in Kaelon’s triumph, while the nobles scowled, their faces twisted in irritation and disbelief. Still riding the high of his victory, Kaelon shook his head when asked if he needed medical attention and made his way back to the stands.
Our eyes met, and Kaelon flashed me a smirk. I had to admit, the beat down was absolutely satisfying.
