"Things are a lot different this semester compared to last," Binturu muttered as he, Itekan, Itoyea, and Kutote pushed through the cafeteria doors. The place was buzzing with noise—clattering trays, overlapping conversations, and the faint hum of excitement that had been running through the academy since classes resumed.
Binturu frowned as he eyed the crowded tables. "And a whole lot stricter too."
Kutote, already reaching for a plate, glanced over his shoulder. "What do you mean stricter?"
Binturu leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves were listening. "Remember Headmaster Kime's speech at the end of last semester?"
"Yeah, sure." Kutote frowned. "But what does that have to do with the changes?"
"In order to narrow down the five strongest trainees for each level," Binturu said, pausing for effect, "duels have been legalized."
The words hit the table like a spark in dry grass.
"Ohhh, nice!" Itekan's head snapped up, his eyes alight with intrigue.
"I knew you'd say that," Binturu said with a wry grin. "And yeah, it sounds nice. But there's a whole system to it—and that's where things get complicated."
Itoyea raised a brow. "What do you mean by complicated?"
"Yeah, don't keep us hanging," Itekan said, leaning forward eagerly.
"Hush! Let me explain." Binturu set his tray down and tapped his fingers against it as if counting. "There are four rules. Four rules that shape everything about the duels."
The others went quiet, their food forgotten.
"First," Binturu began, "each trainee can have a maximum of four duels per week. That's the cap. If you push beyond it, it doesn't count."
Kutote tilted his head. "Sounds reasonable. Keeps things from getting out of hand."
"Reasonable, but brutal," Binturu corrected. "Because if you lose more than five matches within two weeks, you're kicked off the scoreboard."
"Harsh," Itoyea murmured.
"Second," Binturu continued, "there's a reward system. Any trainee who wins ten duels in a row without a single loss gets a special prize. And trust me, it won't be something… insignificant."
"Insignificant?" Itekan repeated with a grin. "So you're saying it's gonna be something big."
"I'm saying it's gonna be worth risking your neck for," Binturu said firmly. "Maybe even life-changing."
The thought made even Kutote pause, his usually casual expression sharpening.
"Third rule," Binturu pressed on, "at the start of the semester, every one of the fifty trainees was given a base score of two hundred and twenty-five points. Every loss shaves fifteen points off your score. Every win adds five."
"So the scoreboard becomes a battlefield in itself," Itoyea murmured, already analyzing the numbers.
"Exactly," Binturu said. "And the last rule is the harshest: no matter who, no matter when, if a duel is issued, it must be honored. You can't run, you can't refuse. Once the words are spoken, it's locked in."
He leaned back with a sigh. "So far, I've counted five duels already fought. Twelve more are scheduled before the week's over."
The three sat with the weight of his words.
Itekan's lips curled into a smile. "Honestly? I don't mind. It's constructive. It's a good way to test ourselves—and a good way to grow stronger."
Itoyea nodded, almost relieved. "About time. I was beginning to think we'd waste the whole semester stuck in classrooms. We're trainee heroes. Where else are we supposed to sharpen our skills if not in combat?"
Kutote, however, leaned back in his chair, barely listening. His mind was elsewhere, mentally running through the list of names—trainees he knew he could crush without breaking a sweat. A grin tugged at his lips.
Their conversation was cut short by murmurs rising around them. The cafeteria's chatter died into whispers as heads turned.
From the crowd, a massive figure emerged—towering seven feet tall, shoulders broad enough to block the light. His curly hair stuck out wildly, his academy uniform stretched tight against his frame.
"Itekan Lie!" the giant's voice thundered, deep and sharp enough to silence the cafeteria. "I am Gerald Stecham! I request a duel!"
Gasps spread through the room, the challenge rippling out like a wave.
Itekan blinked, momentarily stunned. He hadn't even realized this guy was in his class.
The rules echoed in his mind. He couldn't refuse.
"Sure," Itekan said evenly. "When and where?"
"No problem starting now!" Gerald declared with a grin, his chest puffing out.
"Gerald Stecham," Kutote muttered, stepping closer, his voice laced with disdain. "You were in Class Three, right? Heard you were pretty notorious."
Gerald smirked. "Yeah. And I've heard all about you and Blondie's little escapades last semester. What I want to know is—are you really worth the hype?"
"That's nice and all," Kutote started, "but we just got here. We haven't even—"
"Who even are you?" Gerald cut him off flatly, not even sparing him a glance.
Kutote's eye twitched. A fuse was about to blow until Itekan caught him by the arm.
"You want a duel? Fine," Itekan said, already turning away. "Let's do it."
---
Minutes later, the training grounds were alive with energy. Trainees swarmed to the edges, craning their necks, whispers of wagers and speculation spreading like wildfire.
In the center of the ring, Itekan and Gerald faced each other. The air was thick with anticipation, the crowd practically vibrating with it.
From the second-floor library overlooking the grounds, Itoyea, Binturu, and Kutote leaned over the railing. Avery Ransthrol joined them shortly, his sharp eyes scanning the arena.
"Hey, guys," Avery greeted.
"Yo," Itoyea replied casually. The others gave brief nods.
"You all seem confident Itekan's going to win," Avery observed as he settled in beside them.
"There's no way Gerald wins," Kutote said firmly.
"That's a lot of confidence," Avery said. "Don't get me wrong, I don't think Itekan will lose. But underestimating someone who made it this far is dangerous."
Binturu nodded. "Avery's right. Gerald might not be Itekan's equal, but he was one of Class Three's strongest."
"Yeah," Avery added, "Sensei Pwain told me Gerald came out of their dungeon expedition without a scratch, while half his class barely made it."
Kutote waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. We'll see soon enough. They're starting."
Down below, a lanky trainee named Perio strode into the ring, taking on the role of referee.
"Alright!" Perio shouted, his voice carrying across the grounds. "I want a clean and honest duel. No cheating, no biting, no crying, and most importantly—no dying!"
The crowd roared with laughter.
"Start at the last count," Perio said, raising his hand. "Three… two… one!"
Gerald stepped forward, a grin splitting his face. "I'm gonna rip you apa—!"
The words caught in his throat. His body buckled as if an invisible mountain had dropped on his shoulders. His knees crashed into the ground, his arms trembling under the sudden weight.
"What—?!"
"Shadow's Hand: Inverse Gravity," Itekan said softly, his expression calm, almost amused. A smile spread across his lips.
"Done already? I thought you wanted to rip me apart."
The crowd erupted in gasps, the silence broken by shouts of disbelief. Gerald's fall had been instant, decisive—humiliating.
Up above, the spectators stared in shock, their earlier theories crumbling to dust.
"Well," Avery said finally, recovering his composure, "we can agree Gerald was weaker than expected."
"Or," Kutote said, eyes narrowing, "Itekan's stronger than we all realized."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken agreement.
Then Binturu's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Now I want to fight him." His aura flared violently, a beastly shadow taking form behind him.
"You're not alone," Avery said, his own energy spiking. A four-armed demon loomed into existence at his back. "He's gotten far stronger than I expected in just three months. I want a duel too."
Itoyea and Kutote exchanged a look, both suppressing grins.
"Let's not tell them we're probably just as strong," Kutote whispered.
"Yeah, let's not," Itoyea agreed.
Itoyea cleared his throat, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "For the record, I've beaten Itekan twelve times. He's only beaten me eleven. And we've got the same number of draws."
Binturu and Avery's eyes snapped to him, their fiery auras flaring higher, heat and malice pouring off them.
"Ahh…" Itoyea laughed nervously, sweat beading on his forehead.
Kutote groaned and smacked his forehead in exasperation.
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