Word spread fast.
By nightfall, half of Ashenwell knew: Vael Serkane had challenged the transfer student to a formal duel. Not a punishment duel. Not a practice match.
A public, sanctioned, court-observed, reputation-on-the-line Trial of Ability.
"Great," Sparks muttered. "We've been here three days, and you've already made the student council's favorite war boy insecure."
Grim tied the last strap on his glove. "He needed the reminder."
🛡️ The Dueling Grounds – Midnight Trial
The arena was a circular stage surrounded by crystal lenses that recorded everything. Firelight glinted off enchanted shields hovering around the outer ring. Students filled the stands, nobles front and center.
Kaia watched from above, arms crossed. She didn't look worried.
Just… ready.
Grim stepped onto the platform first—calm, unreadable.
Then came Vael—smiling like a serpent who thought he'd cornered a mouse.
"The accused accepts the challenge," the officiator called. "Fight ends by knockdown, tap-out, or crystal break."
Vael bowed slightly.
Grim didn't move.
Sparks buzzed. "He's using that fake-courteous noble opener. I say we roast his ego and feed the ashes to the cafeteria stew."
"Focus," Grim murmured. "Read his stance."
"Mild arrogance, moderate drama, definite underestimation. Delicious."
⚔️ Duel Start
Vael opened with a whip of silver Lume—fast and pretty. Grim sidestepped, hands still in his pockets.
Students whispered. Nobles narrowed their eyes.
Another strike—this one arcing. Grim ducked, barely moving.
"You're not even blocking?" Sparks asked, amused.
"I want him frustrated."
Vael growled, snapping his fingers. The whip split into multiple blades—spinning and homing in.
Grim flicked a finger.
🔥 Foom—a precise burst of flame folded space around him. The blades passed through air that was no longer there.
The crowd gasped.
Grim finally raised a hand—and the floor cracked.
A heatwave surged outward—controlled, ringed, elegant. Not a brute blast. A warning.
💥 The End Comes Fast
Vael yelled, slamming both palms down—summoning a serpent of Lume, roaring through the air.
"Now?" Sparks asked.
Grim nodded once.
In one smooth motion, he stepped forward, folded space again—appearing behind Vael—his hand glowing like molten gold.
He whispered: "You should've picked someone else."
Boom.
A flame-pulse struck Vael's back—not to harm, but to send him sprawling forward, face-first into the dueling circle.
The crystal blinked red. Match over.
Silence.
Then:
"...Was that legal?" a noble muttered.
"It was beautiful," a commoner whispered back.