Chapter 2: The Muscle that Defies Magic
The hall still buzzed with whispers long after Karl shattered Aric's wand. Some students watched him with awe. Others glared with open hatred.
Professor Veynar's expression was unreadable, though his eyes lingered on Karl longer than anyone else's.
"Enough," the professor finally barked. "Magicless or not, the duel is over. Return to your seats."
Karl tossed the broken wand fragments to the floor and walked out of the circle. His heartbeat was still steady. His fists still itched for more.
But as he sat down, he caught the looks from his classmates. Fear. Disgust. A few sparks of admiration.
It didn't matter.
He hadn't come to make friends.
---
The rest of the lesson dragged. Students practiced simple spells—floating quills, conjuring sparks—while Karl sat cross-legged on the stone floor.
His hands curled into fists every time a spell failed to affect him. A stray blast of wind knocked over desks and sent parchment flying—but the gust bent around Karl like water around a rock.
Professor Veynar didn't call on him again. The man's sharp gaze suggested he didn't quite know what to do with a student who couldn't channel mana yet couldn't be harmed by it either.
When the bell rang, Karl pushed through the crowd of whispering students and stepped into the corridor.
That was when he heard the voice.
"You're insane."
Karl turned. A girl with chestnut hair and sharp green eyes leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She was slender, her wand holstered at her hip. Unlike the others, she wasn't sneering.
She was studying him.
"I'm Lira Ashveil," she said before he could reply. "And you just made yourself the most hated boy in the Academy."
Karl shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
"It does," Lira shot back. "Aric's family won't forgive this. He'll come at you again. Harder. And you'll be lucky if it's just him."
Karl's lips twitched. "Let them come."
Lira stared, then laughed softly. "You're either the bravest or the dumbest person I've ever met."
Before Karl could answer, another voice chimed in from behind.
"Definitely the dumbest."
A boy with messy blond hair and a grin too wide for his face strolled over. He carried a battered staff that looked more like a walking stick than a weapon.
"Name's Jax," he said, sticking out a hand. "And I just witnessed the best thing I've ever seen. You broke Aric's wand! Do you know how long I've wanted to punch that guy?"
Karl didn't shake his hand. He just stared until Jax pulled it back awkwardly.
"Right. Not a handshaker. Got it. Still—respect, muscle-man."
Lira sighed. "Jax, stop talking."
---
The three of them walked together down the corridor, though Karl said little.
Lira spoke in hushed tones about the Academy's factions—noble houses, rivalries, professors who favored one bloodline over another. Jax threw in sarcastic comments that made passing students glare at them.
Karl mostly listened.
Every step he took felt heavier. Every glare burned hotter. Already, rumors spread like wildfire. The boy who shattered a wand. The muscle freak. The anomaly.
At the end of the hall, a voice rang out.
"Draven!"
Aric Vale stood with two other noble students, his robes repaired, though his pride clearly wasn't. His eyes blazed with fury.
"This isn't over," Aric snarled. "Tomorrow, the courtyard. You and me. I'll show everyone what happens when a peasant touches a noble's wand."
The crowd of students quieted. Dozens of eyes turned to Karl.
Karl met Aric's glare, unblinking.
"Fine."
Gasps spread through the crowd. Aric smirked, thinking he had won by dragging Karl into another fight.
But Karl's voice carried over the whispers, steady and unshaken.
"Tomorrow, I'll break more than your wand."
---
That night, Karl lay awake in his narrow dorm bed. The moonlight cut through the frosted window.
His muscles ached, but not from spells. From years of work, years of training alone.
The Academy was a place of magic, yet his body had been forged like steel. And for the first time, he wondered—was it enough?
He clenched his fists, staring at his calloused knuckles.
Tomorrow would prove it.
---
The courtyard was already full when Karl arrived the next morning. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he stepped into the circle of watching students. Whispers raced through the crowd.
"He's really going to fight again?"
"Doesn't he know Aric will crush him?"
"What if he breaks another wand…?"
Aric stood waiting, wand gleaming, fury radiating from his smirk. His allies flanked him, smirking as though they'd already seen Karl's corpse.
Professor Veynar wasn't there. No teachers were. This wasn't official.
It was blood.
"You should have stayed in your hole, Draven," Aric sneered. "This time, no one will save you."
Karl cracked his knuckles. His breath misted in the cold air.
"Don't need saving."
Aric raised his wand.
Light flared.
The duel began.
---
Cliffhanger Ending of Chapter 2:
The first spell exploded toward Karl, brighter and hotter than before. The snow hissed, melting instantly. Students screamed and stumbled back.
But Karl didn't move.
He clenched his fists, planted his feet, and stared down the inferno.