CHAPTER 67: BLESSING OF LIGHTNING

Aaron’s brows twitched as he shot Professor Elias a flat look.

"What do you mean, professor?" His tone was clipped, but there was no mistaking the displeasure tightening his jaw.

The older man’s lips curved into a warm smile, as if he hadn’t just interrupted a fight that had the entire student body on edge. "Well, your battle with Michael has made quite a stir. Many people have gathered here to see it play out. Even I came to watch." His eyes glinted with a hint of amusement. "It would be such a shame if it ended too quickly, don’t you think?"

Aaron tilted his head slightly, as if genuinely considering the words, though his eyes were cold. "And why should I care?" he asked. He wasn’t here to entertain an audience—he was here to see how far the man who had been engineering his troubles since day one could go when things got serious.

Professor Elias didn’t miss a beat. "The villa was given to you because we believed you’d be the student to bring honor to the school in the near future. Walking away from this fight might... undermine that belief. It could even force us to reconsider your privileges. I’m sure the president will be willing to help with the eviction process when the time comes."

Aaron let out a slow exhale through his nose. "I don’t know what game you’re playing, old man, but I’m not impressed in the slightest." His voice was calm, but the faint twitch of his fingers betrayed his irritation. Without another word, he turned his back and headed for the arena.

Give up the villa and pair with someone else? Not happening. He had chosen Ragnarok for a reason—the privacy. The villa was more than a luxury; it was a wall between him and everyone else. Losing it wasn’t an option.

Professor Elias clasped his hands behind his back. "Carry on then, President. We’re all waiting for the outcome of the battle." And with that, his form blurred and vanished from sight.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one could follow his movements—no one except Aaron, who watched in slow motion as the professor simply flickered out of existence.

Aaron flexed his fingers, his mind briefly drifting to the adjustments he’d been experimenting with. After several trials, he’d learned the limiter could target specific abilities. For this fight, he had reduced only his strength and speed—the two most obvious attributes—leaving the rest untouched. It gave him a way to stay unpredictable without crippling himself entirely. Even so, Michael had still managed to catch him off guard earlier.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected Michael’s ability to be so... layered. Once again, the system had conveniently withheld certain details from him.

"You’re back," Michael said, letting out a breath of relief. "I was worried you were actually going to ditch the fight."

"Oh, I would have." Aaron clicked his tongue in annoyance. "The head professor just had to be a part-pooper."

Michael chuckled, raising his guard. "I promise not to go for your face this time."

Aaron grinned sharply. "Nah. This time, go for it. You won’t land a single hit from here on out."

The audience shifted in anticipation. They wanted a spectacle? Fine. He would give them one. Not even Michael—the famed dual-awakened—would be able to stop him.

---

Michael (Blessed)

Agility: C+

Strength: D-

Vitality: C

Stamina: C+

Mana: C++

Talent:

SS Rank — Firelord

SS Rank — Lightninglord

Blessings:

Blessing of Lightning: Gifted by the will of the universe itself. Michael is the embodiment of lightning, a blessing once belonging to his father before it was stripped for betrayal and passed to his son.

Lightning Domain: A 10cm field of lightning around him prevents harm, activating only when an attack is aimed his way.

Path to Godhood: The will of the universe smoothens his ascension; given time, he will inevitably become a god, with potential for even greater heights if he strives for them.

God Aura: All of his abilities are imbued with divine potency.

Divine Retribution: Can summon lightning of divine judgment depending on the threat level he perceives.

---

Aaron’s gaze swept the stats without the faintest sign of intimidation. He’d seen far worse. Still... it did make him wonder.

If Michael was this strong as a blessed, then how strong would Dream be? The thought was unsettling—especially the fact that Dream allowed herself to be pushed around by someone like Geralt under the guise of neutrality. The more Aaron considered it, the stranger it seemed.

Enough thinking. Aaron moved first.

---

Michael didn’t even have time to blink before Aaron’s arm came off in a clean cut, blood spilling in a controlled arc across the arena floor. The crimson spray twisted unnaturally mid-air, morphing into an array of weapons that shot toward Michael like a deadly rain.

Michael’s expression hardened. "You’ll have to do better than that." The temperature around him spiked, heatwaves distorting the air as every drop of blood evaporated before reaching his lightning domain.

"I’m a terrible matchup for your blood tricks," Michael said, his smile carrying a note of finality. He was already picturing victory, and he hadn’t even begun to push himself.

"That’s fine," Aaron replied evenly, the corner of his lips curling upward. "I wasn’t counting on the blood. I was counting on my sword skills."

The plain steel sword appeared almost unremarkable in his grip, but the way Aaron held it—relaxed yet precise—made it seem far from ordinary.

"Ready or not," Aaron muttered, his voice low enough for only Michael to hear, "here I come."

He lunged. The first swing came fast, forcing Michael to sidestep. It was exactly what Aaron expected. Without pausing, he shifted into the second sequence already mapped out in his head.

Mid-swing, Aaron halted his arm with such abrupt force that muscle fibers tore—only to knit themselves back together instantly—before converting the momentum into a sharp thrust. The sudden transition caught Michael off guard.

Flames erupted at Michael’s feet, detonating into a controlled blast that pushed him back, creating precious distance. But Aaron had anticipated that too. He used the pull of his extended sword to pivot forward, allowing his body to drop low as if he’d lost his balance. To the crowd, it looked like a stumble. In reality, Aaron rolled smoothly and came up already pressing forward, giving Michael no room to breathe.

Steel blurred through the air in bizarre, unpredictable patterns. Each strike forced Michael onto the defensive, his focus narrowing to keeping Aaron’s blade from finding purchase.

---

"Hey... is it just me, or is Michael getting pushed back?" a student whispered to his friend—except his ’whisper’ carried far more than intended.

Heads turned. The vice principal’s face darkened.

"That much is obvious," another student replied quietly. "What I want to know is—how is Aaron this good with a sword? During his fight with Alice, he wasn’t anywhere near this level."

The remark seemed to hang in the air, drawing a heavy silence over the crowd. Even Professor Elias’s smile faded into something more contemplative.