Chapter 43: Cornered Pride — No Escape
Even a few upperclassn had stopped their training to watch.
Perfect.
"Here’s what I think happened. Soone with money and connections hired an interdiary. That interdiary approached Elena, threatened her family, and gave her very specific instructions on what to say and when to say it. The goal was to destroy my credibility completely. Make sure I had no defense."
Marcus took a physical step back, his practice sword lowering slightly as the sheer weight of the crowd’s stares hit him. "You... you think anyone is going to take the word of a disgraced bastard over a Thornwell? My family—"
"You’re right." Lucian nodded. "I can’t. Not definitively. But Elena can identify the interdiary. And the interdiary—once the administration gets involved, once they start asking the right questions—well. People have a tendency to talk when their own futures are on the line."
"This is—you’re bluffing—"
"Maybe. But here’s the beautiful part, Marcus. Whether I can prove it to the administration or not... doesn’t actually matter right now."
He made a sweeping gesture toward the ring of silent, watching students.
"What matters is the brilliant performance you just gave everyone. You didn’t just deny it, Marcus—you panicked. Your face dropped at Elena’s na. You completely fumbled the tiline. Thirty seconds ago you were untouchable, and now? Now you’re just sweating in front of half the academy."
The last remnants of color completely drained from Marcus’s face, leaving him looking sickly and hollow. His chest heaved as he struggled to find a single, coherent counterattack.
"You—this is entrapnt—"
"No." Lucian’s voice dropped, turning ice-cold. "These are consequences. You tried to destroy
using public accusation and social pressure. So I’m returning the favor. Publicly. With witnesses."
The crowd murmured. So students were nodding. Others shifted uncomfortably, realizing how easily the academy’s social hierarchy could be weaponized.
But the damage was absolute. Whether Marcus was guilty or not, he looked guilty. And in a place like Astraviel Academy, appearance mattered almost as much as truth.
"You bastard," Marcus glared at Lucian, knuckles white around his practice sword. "You think you’re so clever—"
"I think I’m just tired." Lucian let out a short, hollow exhale that was almost a smile, "Honestly, it’s exhausting. Watching people like you treat everyone else as disposable collateral. You throw your weight around simply because you assu you’re untouchable."
He t Marcus’s eyes directly.
"Elena was terrified. Crying. Begging
not to make her talk because she thought you’d ruin her family. That’s the kind of fear you use. That’s exactly who you are."
"Don’t you dare put words in my mouth, Valemont!" Marcus spat, taking a jerky half-step forward. "I don’t give a damn about that pathetic girl!"
"Then prove it." Lucian spread his hands. "Go to Professor Kael right now. Volunteer for a truth spell examination. Clear your na publicly, the sa way you tried to destroy mine."
Dead silence fell over the training yard.
Marcus stood frozen, trapped between options. If he refused, he looked guilty. If he agreed and was lying, the truth spell would expose him.
There was no way out. Lucian had boxed him into a corner with no doors.
"Well?" Lucian’s voice was quiet. "What’s it going to be?"
And that’s when Marcus made his mistake.
"Fuck this," he snarled. "And fuck you."
He lunged forward, practice sword raised, aiming straight for Lucian.
Because in his panic and rage, he’d made the calculation: Silence Valemont permanently. Erase the bastard who dared humiliate him. Reassert dominance through pure violence.
It was exactly the wrong move.
Seraphina moved before Marcus’s blade traveled even a foot.
Her practice sword was in her hand—Lucian hadn’t even seen her draw—and she stepped between Marcus and Lucian with fluid, perfect economy of motion.
Wood slamd against wood with a sharp crack that echoed across the training grounds.
Marcus stumbled back, shock and adrenaline on his face.
Seraphina stood perfectly still, her sword held in a guard position, her expression utterly calm.
"Try that again. and I won’t be using a practice sword."
"Enough!"
Professor Kael’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
The crowd parted as he strode forward, his scarred face set in hard lines. He looked between Marcus and Seraphina, then at Lucian, taking in the scene.
"What is going on here?"
Marcus recovered first. "Professor! Valemont is making baseless accusations—"
"I was having a conversation," Lucian interrupted calmly. "Marcus attacked when I suggested he clear his na with a truth spell."
Kael’s eyes narrowed. "Is that so."
"He’s lying! I didn’t—"
"I have two working eyes, Thornwell," Kael interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "I just watched you swing a blade in a blind rage. Do not insult my intelligence by denying it."
Marcus’s mouth opened. Closed.
Trapped again.
Kael looked at Seraphina. "Did you feel threatened?"
"Yes, Professor Kael." Her voice was perfectly level. "He attempted to strike
without warning or challenge. Clear violation of academy dueling protocols."
"I see." Kael’s expression was unreadable. He turned to the crowd. "For the official record. Did the rest of you witness this violation?"
A murmur of agreent. Several students nodded.
Kael looked back at Marcus. "Thornwell. You have two options. One: Face disciplinary action for attacking a fellow student without proper challenge or supervision."
Marcus’s face went white.
"Or two," Kael continued, "issue a formal challenge. Here. Now. With
as supervisor and these witnesses present. Win, and we’ll consider the matter settled. Lose..." He paused. "And I think we’ll be having a very long conversation with the administration about Miss Marsh’s accusations."
"It was an absolute trap."
But one Marcus couldn’t refuse without looking like even more of a coward.
He looked at Lucian. Then at Seraphina. Then back at Kael.
His jaw worked. Pride warred with survival instinct.
Finally: "Fine. I challenge—"
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