The bell rang at third sunfall, echoing through the marble bones of the Academy. It was a sound that meant only one thing:
Sparring Day.
The coliseum-turned-classroom had been transformed. The usual lecture platforms had been lowered into the stone to reveal the full dueling pit beneath—polished obsidian ringed with mana-forged glyphs that shimmered with containment barriers. Floating crystals hovered above the arena, ready to record, review, and broadcast the matches to the Academy's Arcane Council.
This wasn't just for class.
It was a test.
A statement.
A stage.
Kain sat on the stone bleachers in his standard Academy dueling robes: black and silver, the Norigusho crest barely visible on his left shoulder. His hands were bandaged—an excuse, in case anyone noticed how callused and coiled they'd become.
He wasn't sweating.
He was watching.
One match had already taken place. Fennir Blaque vs. a lesser noble. A clean, vicious fight that ended with a shattered kneecap and a broken blade.
Now it was pairing time.
Professor Irelia stood at the edge of the arena, arms crossed.
"Names will be drawn by mana-lottery. No objections. No rearrangements."
A crystal sphere floated beside her, whirling with flickering student names.
It stopped.
The first name formed in fire above the pit:
KAIN NORIGUSHO
Murmurs exploded like thunder across the seats.
Kain slowly stood, body loose, eyes unreadable.
Then—
ELIETTE GRAIL
The murmurs died.
She stepped forward, elegant and slow.
Short black hair. Crimson eyes. Skin pale as moonlight. She wore the same robes as everyone else—but they didn't fit her. They looked like a skin she was tolerating.
Eliette Grail.
Daughter of the Archmage of Black Spire. A known prodigy in elemental channeling. In the original novel, she was a cold-blooded rival. Loyal to no one. Dangerous to everyone.
But Kain remembered something else.
A single line from a discarded draft:
"When Eliette fights, she dances like she's trying to unmake the world."
Shit.
Round One — Kain vs. Eliette
They stood ten meters apart in the pit. The arena's glyphs began to hum, rising into a slow protective pulse.
"Combat ends when one of you yields or can no longer fight," Irelia announced. "No mortal wounds. No fatalities. But pain is permitted."
A brief pause.
"Begin."
Eliette moved first.
No chant. No gesture. Just a blink—and the ground beneath Kain's feet exploded into shards of black ice.
He rolled immediately, instincts sharpened by Plunder. His shoulder hit the ground as three frost lances impaled where he'd stood.
He popped back up and rushed forward.
Mist gathered around Eliette's hands—she was casting mid-movement, a mark of elite combat training.
He feinted left, then launched a dagger hidden in his sleeve.
She raised a crystalline barrier mid-air. The dagger struck and shattered.
The air around her warped as ice bloomed in a spiraling radius, carving a vortex of knives from thin air.
Kain was faster.
He darted in under the frost bloom, sliding low, and struck with a heavy palm toward her ribs—an assassin's strike aimed at paralyzing the diaphragm.
She twisted, turning the force into a slide, letting it hit her shoulder—then conjured a frozen whip that lashed across his back.
CRACK.
Pain. But manageable. He'd taken worse from ogres.
He backflipped away, narrowing his eyes.
Eliette stood, her breathing even, hands glowing with another spell already weaving.
Time to escalate.
Kain drew a second dagger from his belt—curved, dual-edged—and charged.
He weaved through her incoming frost bolts, sidestepping with preternatural fluidity. Left. Right. Drop roll. Lunge.
Their blades clashed—ice against steel—and her arms trembled under the impact.
Then she smirked.
The ice in her palm detonated.
A directed pulse. Not enough to kill—but enough to throw him back like a ragdoll.
Kain's body hit the barrier wall with a sickening crack. Gasps echoed around the arena.
He fell to one knee.
Blood from his nose. His ribs felt wrong.
But he stood up.
Too quickly.
Regeneration. Right. Don't overplay it.
He coughed, wiped his lip, and straightened.
"Was that supposed to impress me?" he asked.
Gasps again.
Even Eliette tilted her head. "You're either arrogant… or stupid."
He smiled, just slightly. "Both. You'll find that's a pattern."
She came at him again—but this time, Kain was ready.
The moment she cast a freezing lance, Kain stepped into her blind spot, pushed her hand upward, and snapped her wrist backward with a brutal twist.
The lance fired harmlessly into the air.
Eliette screamed and backhanded him with a burst of cold wind—he took the hit to his chest and used the momentum to spin behind her, catching her by the throat.
He didn't choke.
He whispered.
"Yield."
She hesitated. Magic gathered at her fingertips.
Kain didn't hesitate.
He used the pressure point technique from the assassin—struck her lower spine, then her elbow nerve.
Her body collapsed.
The magic flickered out.
The arena fell silent.
Irelia stood slowly. Her eyes narrowed. "Eliette Grail is unable to continue."
The crystal panel flared with bright red glyphs.
Victory: Kain Norigusho
He stepped away from her body—she wasn't unconscious, just winded. Shocked. Furious.
She stared at him from the ground like she was seeing something she didn't recognize.
She wasn't the only one.
Kain walked off the field, rolling his shoulder, hiding his limp.
He was healing already—but too much attention and that'd be noticed.
Lucas was watching him. Silent. Suspicious.
The girl beside him—the disguised Princess—watched too.
Kain didn't look at them.
But he felt something change in the room.
Before, they saw him as a cockroach.
Now… maybe a snake.
Still killable. But not harmless.
Good.
Later That Night — Academy Rooftop
Kain sat on the rooftop of the academy's east wing, notebook open, a single lantern flickering beside him.
He wrote:
Confirmed: Reflex speed improved beyond baseline human.
Muscle efficiency: Matches that of mid-tier beastkin.
Regeneration: Passive. At rest, heals minor wounds in minutes.
I felt her spells. Not just dodged them—predicted them.
Am I reading their intent? Or… are my reflexes ahead of time?
Need more tests. More kills.
He closed the book. Looked at the moon.
That wasn't even a serious opponent, he thought.
If Eliette had really gone for the kill, it might've ended differently.
But he'd won. Decisively.
And now… the others would notice.
He'd have to play it smart.
Hide what he could.
Kill what he must.
And survive everything else.