CHAPTER 18: TURNABOUT’S FAIR PLAY

Damien’s teeth clenched, fury radiating from every step.

"You don’t get to call me a thief."

He raised his hand again.

Another spell formation spiraled into existence, larger this time, pulsing with pale green and silver runes.

Noah barely had time to react before the weight dropped on him.

Gravity.

He slammed into the floor with a choked grunt, his body pinned under an invisible force that pressed down with crushing intensity.

The stone beneath him groaned as his arms gave out and his chest met the floor hard.

Pain flared in his back, his ribs creaking under the weight.

Noah let out a yell, his voice strained, forced out between gritted teeth.

Damien’s laughter rang out across the hallway.

"Feeling that? That’s an E-rank gravity spell."

He walked forward slowly, hands behind his back like a teacher addressing a class.

"Unlike you Stone plebians with your cheap beasts, my race is now Sprite. Wind, Wood, and Gravity affinities. Neat, right?"

He stopped just short of Noah’s crumpled form.

"This wouldn’t even slow down an E-rank mage. But you? You’re FFF-rank. And you’ll stay there forever."

He snapped his fingers, and the pressure vanished instantly.

Noah gasped, sucking in air as his limbs shook beneath him.

Damien turned from him, facing the crowd of Stone-tier boys still standing near the broken door.

"Well?" he barked. "Where is it?"

One of them held up the trunk’s lid in silent defeat.

"It’s not in there."

Damien’s lip curled. He spat on the floor.

"Pathetic." He said. "Can’t even retrieve a single spell token. That’s why all of you will rot at the bottom of this academy until the day you die."

None of the boys responded.

Their heads were down. No one met his eyes.

Damien scoffed, turning his back on them.

His gaze returned to Noah, still sprawled on the ground.

But he wasn’t laughing anymore.

He was smirking.

"You hid it on yourself," Damien said softly, almost admiringly. "Smart."

He chuckled. "Clever trash."

He stepped forward and crouched beside Noah, his smirk curling cruelly as he reached for the fallen student’s pocket.

"I’ll take that back now."

But before his fingers touched the fabric, Noah suddenly surged upward.

His hand snapped forward like a striking viper, grabbing Damien’s arm at the elbow.

Damien blinked, startled. "Wha—?"

Noah grinned.

"Catch."

Then he twisted.

Crack!

Damien screamed, his voice high and sharp, as the bone snapped. He stumbled back, clutching his arm, falling onto the floor with a crash.

Noah rose slowly, shaking out his shoulders, blood still drying on his face.

Damien writhed, face contorted in shock and agony. "H- how...? You were just on the ground..!"

Noah tilted his head. "You’re weak. That’s why."

But within himself, he knew the actual reason why.

’My base attributes start at E-rank, not FFF, you prick. You never stood a chance.’

He had let Damien get close. Let him gloat. Let him think he’d won, just long enough for Noah to grab him.

Now he stood tall.

Calm. Focused.

He stepped forward, seized Damien by the collar, and yanked him up to eye level.

Then he started punching.

The first fist connected with the side of Damien’s jaw.

The second broke through his lip.

The third shattered his nose.

Blow after blow.

Each strike punctuated with words.

"You think potential defines everything?"

Smash.

"You think what rank you’re assigned at awakening tells you where you’ll end?"

Crack.

"You think people like me stay at the bottom?"

Crunch.

Damien’s face was red with blood, his breathing ragged. His arms flailed weakly, unable to stop the barrage.

Noah’s grip tightened on his uniform.

"None of you know where anyone else will end up. You think you’ve already arrived just because the world put a number next to your name."

Another punch sent Damien’s head slamming back against the wall.

"A high potential doesn’t guarantee a damn thing."

He released him.

Damien collapsed onto the floor, groaning, face swollen and streaked with blood.

But even now, he laughed, the sound wet and hoarse.

"You think this changes anything...?"

He coughed, spitting blood.

"No matter what you do... you’ll always be at the bottom."

He looked up with one swollen eye.

"Dis you think I’m the only one here to take that thing from you? Even if you beat me... you won’t be able to hold on to that token."

"I see." Noah sighed, stepping forward. "So that’s why you’re so... arrogant. You think whoever’s outside has your back."

Damien chuckled at his words. "Should I tell you who’s outside?"

Noah raised a brow. "You want to spill the secret? Go ahead."

"It’s a second year student." Damien grinned, his teeth stained with blood. "That barrier around your dorm? That’s their A rank ability."

Noah sighed, crouching beside him.

From Damien’s pocket, he pulled free the small pouch containing the gold coins. It jingled softly in his hand.

"Thanks for holding this for me." Noah said casually.

Damien spat a wad of blood onto the floor, his swollen mouth barely able to move. "You’re the thief..."

Noah chuckled, shaking the pouch once. "No. You are. You thought it was owed to you because of your name."

He opened the pouch and sifted through the coins inside with quiet satisfaction. "See, the difference between you and I is... I work for what I get."

His voice was calm. Almost conversational.

"But did you ever hear about how I earned that B-rank token?" He asked as he counted. "It was after I mastered a little F-rank spell. Nothing fancy. Just Fireball."

He glanced down at Damien, who was too dazed to reply.

Noah smiled faintly.

"Which got me thinking..."

He rose to his feet slowly, palm glowing now with a familiar gold shimmer.

"If a student were to be, say... burned, badly, but not killed... what do you think the academy would do?"

Damien’s eyes widened through his swelling, understanding dawning too late.

"They’d do nothing." Noah continued. "Because the rules say we’re allowed to fight. As long as no one dies."

"No." Damien hissed. "They don’t accept anything that can give long-term damage."

"Really?" Noah chuckled. "I guess we’ll just say my hand slipped."

"You wouldn’t dare." Damien gasped, voice strained and trembling.

Noah grinned.

"I would."

He extended his arm.

"Fireball."