The curious onlookers gradually dispersed, granting them much-needed privacy. The two figures behind Damian remained silent, all three of them thinking about what had just happened with calr minds. Finally, Damian broke the silence,
"What kind of bodyguard leaves their target alone? And where is that other idiot?" he asked sharply.
"She sent
away—to fetch sothing from her room," Einar replied, casting a suspicious look at Evrin, who did her best to avoid both of their gazes.
"You two are her guards, not her servants. You don't have to follow her orders all the ti," Damian stated bluntly, turning to face them both. "And you," he said, addressing Evrin, "who was that brat?"
Evrin blinked, taken aback by his bold tone. Her eyes showed surprise to see him scolding them, not caring one bit about their status and noticing that Einar seed unfazed, as though this kind of criticism from Damian was entirely normal.
"Uhm... Sylian was considered a promising talent," she began, her voice tinged with anger and annoyance. "My mother and others thought of him as one of the, uh, potential candidates. But nothing was formalized because I refused. He's convinced there's no other choice and it's a done deal."
"Well," Damian replied casually, "Guess, he won't be thinking that for long."
The three joined the others for their warm-up exercises. Before the class began, Damian noticed Sam arriving at the last minute, looking disheveled. After a brief scolding from Damian— Apparently he had been tied up with his community stuff, he was also going to start today—they settled into the usual exercise and drills routine. The class was just like every other before it, though he felt like everyone around him was eagerly waiting for the class to end so they could see sothing interesting for the day.
An hour after the Combat Arts class, with the official day still ongoing, Damian spent ti reading in the library alongside Reize. He briefly considered crafting so runic armor pieces but decided against it since his squires would need to be present for him to demonstrate the process.
When the hour ended, Damian turned to Reize. "Where does this dueling thing happen?"
Curious, Reize pressed for details, and Damian admitted he had a match scheduled. She guided him to an open square resembling the assembly hall but fully paved with stone, designed like a stage with tiered seating for spectators. The arena was already filled with people—primarily fifth-year students from the Fists of Valor and the Spellborne Legion. Other younger students had followed behind out of curiosity too.
Damian spotted the Darkwood heir among a group of challengers near the main stage. Bloodedge and another second ranker mana signature Damian had never sensed before were nearby, approaching the place slowly. Damian guessed the man with a modest mana signature must be the designated healer for the event.
"The ones looking for a duel stand over there. I'll head to the audience and cheer you on," Reize said, pointing toward Evrin and the others, who had secured seats in the front row. Sam stood among the challengers; apparently, he was starting his own duels today.
Damian handed Toph to Reize. She chuckled, playfully tugging on the chubby creature's cheeks before making her way to the audience. Damian joined the waiting group with a nod.
"Who are you bullying today?" he asked, standing beside Sam.
"I plan to," Sam replied, smirking. "We've compiled a list. I'm going through the top 20 fifth-years across two sections, one by one. They limit us to five duels a day, though—if I want more, others will have to challenge ."
Damian gave a noncommittal nod, his attention montarily flickering to the fuming Darkwood heir nearby.
Soon, Bloodedge - the one in charge of the day for the duels and the healer walked up to the stage while casually chatting.
Sylian, eager as ever, was the first to stride onto the stage. Even the two Highsword mbers gave him sidelong glances, but Sylian seed oblivious, fully focused on preparing for the duel. Since the other challengers were in no hurry to get it over with, Damian stepped up next, they both stood near the Highswords mbers for further instructions.
"No fatal spells. Only one runic item allowed—weapon or otherwise. No spatial storages. Hand them to us or your companions," Bloodedge barked out the rules. "You'll stop when we tell you, or you'll be suspended."
Both combatants nodded. Damian removed over six pieces of hidden spatial storage from under his clothes and handed them to Sam, the two Highsword mbers along with the crowd of students just stared at him blankly. He heard whispers of "How rich.." and "Where does that one go?"
Enjoy new adventures from empire
"Take your positions," the healer instructed once they were done.
As Damian walked to his designated corner, he sensed two familiar mana signatures arriving late—his two squires. 'Oh, I totally forgot about them.' They joined the others at the back of the audience just as the duel officially began.
The healer raised his hands, chanting a High-Grade spell that conjured a golden barrier separating the audience from the stage in monts. Damian observed intently, committing every intricate detail of the golden runic circle to mory.
"Begin!" Bloodedge shouted, silencing the crowd instantly.
Sylian wasted no ti. Chanting quickly, he summoned over fifty dark vines that burst from a yellow and blue runic circle at his feet, surging toward Damian to bind him in place. The spell showed remarkable precision, effectively blocking any potential escape routes for him. As the vines reached out, Sylian charged, his sword enveloped in a dark green aura. The crowd murmured at his skill, impressed by the simultaneous control of vines spell through his mana threads and combat readiness.
Even the professors who had co to watch and fifth year students were surprised to see soone with such talent that they didn't know till now.
Damian however remained standing still, arms crossed, he was in no hurry to launch anything. As the black vines creeped closer, Damian muttered under his breath, "High Lord's Respect."
Spells.. Against him without any protection control skills were aningless. He was, after all, The Elder Runebreaker.
In an instant, the runic circle dissolved, and the vines disintegrated. Sylian's control over the spell vanished entirely. Damian didn't even have to use much will to do it.
The silence was deafening.
Sylian froze mid-charge, retreating to his corner with an expression of fear and confusion. His panicked face screaming 'How the hell was his spell undone without a single movent from him?'
The crowd watched, enraptured, as Damian stood unmoved, not a single person present could make head or tails of what the hell had just happened.
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