[Julian's POV]
Voices.
They were distant and muffled, coming from all directions at once.
"How long will he be out for?"
"Is he going to wake up?"
"It feels like he's recovering quickly."
The words floated around , overlapping and distorting as I struggled to make sense of them.
Pain pulsed through my body in waves, each throb reminded of the brutal exchange with Uzan.
My ribs felt like they were on fire, and every breath was a laborious effort.
-You're alive!
Vykekard's voice echoed softly in my mind, he sounded amused beneath the usual detachnt.
"How... long?" I tried to ask, but the words ca out as a pained groan.
My vision was a blur of light and shadow, indistinct forms moving in and out of focus.
The voices continued their relentless barrage, a chorus of concern and curiosity.
"He's waking up!"
"Julian, can you hear us?"
"Soone get the nurse!"
I forced my eyes to open, blinking against the harsh light.
The room slowly ca into focus, and I saw several familiar faces hovering over .
Diana Florence, her silver hair cascading like a waterfall as she leaned in with an expression of relief.
Leanne, Diana's half-wolf servant, her lupine features betraying a hint of worry.
Ezekiel, his hair more disheveled than usual, looking equal parts anxious and amused.
And Kaelen, his face still bruised from his encounter with Uzan, but standing tall and composed.
"What...?" I managed to croak, my voice barely a whisper.
"Finally," Ezekiel said, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"We thought you were going to sleep through the entire sester."
I blinked, trying to make sense of their presence.
"Why... here?"
Diana placed a reassuring hand on my arm. "We heard what happened," she said gently. "The entire campus is talking about it."
"How long...?" I asked, wincing as I shifted my position.
"About three days," Kaelen replied, his voice tinged with both admiration and concern. "You've been out cold since the match."
"Three days?" I repeated, the words sinking in slowly.
No wonder everything hurt so much.
"Three days of dical magic and healing potions," Ezekiel said, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
"The doctors and mages are actually baffled by how quickly you and Uzan are recovering. They expected you both to be bedridden for at least a week with those injuries."
"You two have so serious healing factors going on. Did you get that from your dad's side? So hidden bloodline trait?"
The mont he said those words, I didn't know how to respond.
So I shifted uncomfortably against the stiff infirmary pillows.
"I wouldn't know," I replied flatly.
"Never had one."
Ezekiel's expression imdiately shifted from curiosity to embarrassnt.
"Right," he said quickly, running a hand through his already ssy hair.
"I forgot, sorry about that."
Diana shot him a disapproving glance before turning her attention back to .
"How are you feeling now? Is there anything we can get you?"
I relaxed back against the bed, waving off her concern.
"I'm fine. Just sore everywhere."
I looked at Ezekiel, who still appeared uncomfortable with his misstep.
The room fell silent for a mont before I turned to Kaelen, who had been quietly observing from the foot of my bed.
"Why are you here, Kaelen? Shouldn't you be training or sothing?"
Kaelen's usually composed face softened slightly. "We're friends, aren't we? I was more concerned about you than myself."
His directness caught off guard. In the original novel, Kaelen had always been portrayed as distant and focused solely on his training, especially in the early chapters. This deviation was... unexpected.
"I'm fine," I assured him, then hesitated before asking, "How about you? Have you recovered from your match with Uzan?"
Kaelen nodded, rolling his shoulder experintally. "I'm all okay. Nothing permanent."
A bell chid through the infirmary, the sound echoing off the white stone walls. Everyone in the room imdiately straightened.
"That's the horoom bell," Diana said, already gathering her things. "We have to go."
Ezekiel sighed dramatically as he pushed himself away from the wall. "Back to the grind of academy life."
They moved toward the door, but Kaelen lingered for a mont longer. "Rest up," he said simply. "No need to rush back."
"We'll co check on you after classes," Diana promised as Leanne held the door open for her.
"And we'll bring notes!" Ezekiel called over his shoulder as they filed out.
When the door closed behind them, I let out a heavy sigh and sank deeper into the infirmary bed.
" drawing a match with Uzan Modan Jr.," I muttered to myself, shaking my head slightly despite the pain it caused.
"Never would have predicted that when I woke up that morning."
I couldn't help but smile a little. Despite the agony coursing through my body, there was a certain satisfaction in what had transpired.
Dwarven combat tradition held honor above all else—to match a royal dwarf blow for blow, to endure the sa punishnt he inflicted without yielding, was to earn a level of respect few outsiders ever achieved.
At least I honored his tradition, for soone so focused on family honor and heritage like Uzan, that should put in his good graces.
The thought was strangely comforting. In the original storyline, Uzan had beco an antagonist to many of the main characters, his arrogance and sense of superiority driving him to clash with them repeatedly. But perhaps this change—this unexpected connection forged through combat—might alter that trajectory.
I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift to the question that had been nagging at since I regained consciousness.
Was it really a draw, though?
Or did Drothgar just call it that way to end the fight before we killed each other?
As if responding to my question, a familiar notification appeared in my field of vision.
[Quest Complete!]
[MAIN STORY QUEST LOG - THE CHALLENGER'S GAMBIT]
[Description: You have been challenged by Uzan Modan Jr. in the first-year combat ring. This unexpected confrontation represents a critical divergence from the original tiline.]
[Objective: Achieve a draw against Uzan Modan Jr.] - [Complete!]
[Calculating Rewards…]
[Rewards Calculated!]
FWANG!
[Important Side Character Has Been Beaten: 1700 SP]
[Defeated Future Antagonist: 1000 SP]
[Difficulty Of Quest: A ]
[Complete Calculation of Rewards: 2700 SP 1000 SP For Quest Completion.]
I blinked in surprise at the substantial reward.
Three thousand seven hundred SP was far more than I'd received for any previous quest.
It was nearly three tis what I'd earned for surviving the Capture the Flag ga.
[Additional Bonus: Soul Core Stage: Interdiate (11.5%) → 75% (63.5% )]
"Holy shit…" I whispered, genuinely impressed by the system's generosity.
My fingers traced the bandages wrapped tightly around my ribs as I contemplated the rewards.
The SP gain was large, but the soul core advancent was even more valuable.
To jump from early interdiate to late interdiate in a single bound would normally take months, if not years, of dedicated cultivation.
"I guess nearly dying has its perks," I said with a dry chuckle that imdiately made regret the attempt at humor as pain lanced through my chest.
The infirmary fell quiet, with only the soft hum of healing magic generators breaking the silence. I closed my eyes, ready to drift back to sleep when a slight rustling sound caught my attention.
"Are you awake?" a deep, familiar voice called out quietly.
My eyes snapped open as the privacy curtain around my bed shifted, parting just enough for a massive head to poke through.
Uzan Modan Jr.'s face was still discolored with bruising, one eye swollen nearly shut, but his expression was surprisingly gentle.
"I am now," I replied, trying to sit up before wincing and abandoning the effort.
"I... apologize for disturbing your rest," Uzan said.
He pushed the curtain aside further, revealing that he too was in a hospital bed, wheeled close to mine.
His massive fra was wrapped in bandages, and several monitoring crystals pulsed with healing magic around his bed.
"I wanted to speak with you while we're both still here," he continued, adjusting himself with a wince. "About our fight."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
Uzan looked down at his bandaged hands, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his deanor.
"I misjudged you, Julian Uzziel. I thought you were weak and unworthy of notice." His voice carried genuine regret.
"I was wrong."
The admission seed to cost him sothing, his pride perhaps.
For soone of Uzan's standing, acknowledging an error wasn't trivial.
"Your defense of your family na, your willingness to stand against despite the odds... these are traits of great honor."
He looked up, eting my gaze directly.
"Few would have done what you did. Fewer still would have matched blow for blow."
I considered my response carefully. While the acknowledgnt was satisfying, I had no desire to beco entangled in Uzan's social circle or political machinations.
"I appreciate that," I replied evenly. "Let's just say we've both learned sothing and leave it at that. No hard feelings going forward."
Uzan nodded, seeming relieved.
"I would like that. Truth be told, our battle was exhilarating—the best I've experienced since my encounter with the man in the black mask."
My attention sharpened instantly, though I kept my expression neutral.
Black mask? Both the Demonic Order and the World Order operatives wore distinctive black masks during their operations.
I wondered which one had Uzan encountered? And how had he survived such an encounter?
For a mont, I considered pressing for details. The information could be valuable, potentially revealing which faction was already making moves within the academy. But sothing held back—intuition perhaps, or the simple desire not to prolong our interaction.
I nodded instead, letting my head sink back into the pillow. "We all have our morable battles."
Uzan seed to accept this, a faint smile crossing his battered face. He began to wheel his bed back to his side of the infirmary, pausing briefly.
"Rest well, Julian Uzziel. When we are both recovered, perhaps we might train together soti."
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