For several long seconds after Celeste's declaration, the field remained silent. The crowd of hundreds of students, from Human to Elf to Demon, could only stare at the collapsed form of Valerian Duskveil and the calm, unbothered silhouette of Albedo as the fight had come to an abrupt end.
The victory Albedo obtained felt overshadowed compared to the unbridled humiliation he put Valerian through. After all, Albedo hadn't even lost a drop of blood.
Back at the Professors' Platform, Arannis leaned back slightly in his seat, folding his arms over his chest. His sharp, hawk-like eyes hadn't left Albedo since the boy had whispered those two words.
Crimson Moon.
"That was no ordinary domain skill," he murmured, his voice carrying the gravitas of someone who had lived long enough to witness countless legends rise and fall. "It was something… older. And it did not feel borrowed from any school or teacher I recognize."
