CHAPTER 59: AN EXCUSE TO USE IT

Chapter 59: An Excuse to Use it

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The First-year training hall of the Academy buzzed with students murmurs as Professor Vaelian was about to announce the next duel. Its vast chamber— lined with tiered seating, banners of the academy, and lanterns that bathed everything in golden light— had never felt so alive. Whispers moved through the crowd, rising and falling in waves of anticipation. Students leaned forward, eyes locked on the Professor.

Professor Vaelian’s voice, calm but resonant, cut through the murmurs, demanding silence.

"Next match..." He paused, letting the suspense linger for half a heartbeat. "...Arios Pureheart versus Nathan da Acosta."

A collective intake of breath swept across the hall as Rian Blake’s name hadn’t been called. The murmurs erupted again, louder this time. This wasn’t just another duel; everyone knew it. This was Nathan’s match.

Nathan had been the topic of whispers since that afternoon, ever since his fiery tirade about nobles and favoritism. He had publicly challenged the established order, and now he was about to face a symbol of it. This later became more than just a combat test; it was now a clash of ideals.

"Pureheart’s in trouble— Nathan’s been waiting for this," one student said as he turned to look at Nathan’s quick smirk.

The Nobles among the Class 1-D students straightened up, some with smug smiles that dared Nathan to challenge centuries of lineage. For them, this was more than a test; it was a chance to put a commoner in his place. Commoners smirked, crossing their arms, muttering wagers under their breath. Nathan had made this an ideological battlefield: privilege versus grit, silver spoons versus calloused hands.

Nathan’s jaw was set as he pushed off from where he stood, moving toward the stage with long, easy strides. His hair was tousled and caught the light as it swayed. His very posture screamed confidence, perhaps even arrogance.

"Finally," he said, loud enough for the rows of students nearest him to hear as his tone dripped with disdain. "A chance to show everyone what a pampered noble is really worth. Just nothing."

His words spread quickly. Whispers turned into low chuckles, then into a few bursts of laughter from his fellow commoners. Some even clapped their hands, clearly enjoying the pre-match spectacle he was creating.

From the opposite end, Arios inhaled slowly, letting the tension press against his ribs. He rose with measured calm, feet striking the floor with soft, deliberate sounds as he made his way toward the stage.

His uniform, tailored with blue-thread lining, caught the glow of the lanterns in the hall. He was a mark of nobility— subtle compared to some of the more extravagant heirs in the academy, but unmistakable all the same. And Arios knew, without question, that every pair of eyes in the hall wasn’t seeing him, Arios the student. They were seeing "noble." A symbol, an emblem of everything Nathan resented.

When Nathan reached the center of the stage, he made a small show of spinning his wooden sword in his hand. The weapon whirled once, tracing a smooth circle through the air before resting casually on his shoulder. A casual taunt, meant to display confidence.

Then Nathan turned fully toward Arios.

"You look nervous," he said, loud enough for the closest judges and half the front rows to hear. "Afraid the real world doesn’t hand you victories the way your family handed you a name?"

Snickers rippled through the crowd.

Arios stopped a few feet from him, his own wooden blade in hand. His expression was calm and unreadable. "I don’t need words to prove myself," he replied softly.

The restraint in his tone only seemed to fuel Nathan’s grin.

Don’t rise to him, Arios told himself. He isn’t the one I truly wish to face at this moment.

That thought settled his already calm nerves. Nathan’s insults were nothing but noise, a pointless distraction. Arios wished it was Kyousuke standing in front of him, not Nathan. He wanted to confront Kyousuke directly, to ask him how he had managed to convince a professor to change the test rules on a whim.

But still, he knew: losing here would mean more than just a mark on his record. It would mean humiliation.

This can be an opportunity for me to use it in a real combat scene, Arios thought as his gaze fixed on Nathan, he was thinking about testing out his new found mastery of the ’flash step’ skill, but then again he was hesitant due to the fact that using it will draw unwanted attention to him, he needed to find an excuse to do so.

Nathan tilted his head, studying him. "Still hiding behind that calm face? You nobles are all the same— always pretending to be above the rest of us. Tell me, Pureheart, when was the last time you earned anything?"

He stepped closer, lowering his voice into a growl that still carried across the hall. "You were born with your family name. Born with your little title. Born with opportunities I’ve had to claw my way toward. And today, I’m going to rip that smug façade of yours apart in front of everyone."

"That’s right, Nathan!" someone shouted from the back rows.

Arios’ eyes narrowed, though his expression remained controlled. "If you’re so certain, then prove it."

The words hung in the air, sharp and cold.

The hall crackled with tension. Every student leaned forward now, drawn into the quiet, verbal battle before the clash of wooden blades.

Professor Vaelian, who had been observing silently with his arms folded, finally decided to stepped forward. His presence alone commanded the hall back to order. His voice, calm yet stern, cut across the hall.

"That will be enough," he said. "This duel is not meant for speeches. It is a test of skill."

Nathan smirked, but obeyed, he quickly tapped his wooden sword against his shoulder one last time, then raised it into a combat stance.

Arios followed suit, raising his blade into a guarded but fluid position. His eyes flicked once around the hall, briefly meeting the gazes of other students— some curious, some hostile, some simply eager for action.

Then, Arios’s mind, began to run through scenarios. He recalled his training with the Azurine Blade, the countless hours spent refining his movements until the Flash Step became second nature. He could activate it almost on instinct, a flicker of motion so fast that it was imperceptible to the naked eye. The move was his trump card, the ultimate equalizer against opponents who were superior.

Inside, his mind moved even faster than his breathing. Flash Step... would I be forced to use it? No, not unless there is no other choice. If I reveal it, too many questions will follow. The Azurine Blade should remain hidden. For now.

He inhaled deeply, grounding himself. The air smelled faintly of dust, of polished stone, and of sweat from the duels that had already taken place that day.

I should definitely gauge him first. Learn his rhythm.

Professor Vaelian raised his hand. The room fell utterly silent. Every sound died down, replaced by the tension of held breaths.

"Begin."

Both boys stepped forward in unison, their wooden swords shimmering faintly as each channeled the barest trace of mana into the weapons. The lanternlight flashed across polished floor, making them gleam like steel.

The duel had begun.