Lancet took a deep breath and pushed himself up from his seat.
"Good luck, man," Kasto offered, giving him an encouraging pat on the back.
"You’ve got this," Anita added, though her voice carried a trace of nervous tension.
"Thanks," Lancet muttered. He stepped out of the aisle and began the walk down to the center of the hall.
The students were all silent and waiting, a few of them murmured amongst themselves as their eyes followed him all the way down the steps.
With every movent, Lancet felt his muscles protesting. They were still aching from the grueling morning training he had put himself through.
It was barely afternoon, yet it already felt like an incredibly long, exhausting day.
He stepped onto the marked stone of the battle floor, coming to a halt opposite Professor Chance. Despite the battle that had just taken place, the embedded magic in the stone had made the floor as good as new.
Professor Chance didn’t speak imdiately. He just stood there, his hands clasped behind his back, studying Lancet with a piercing, analytical gaze.
Lancet stared back, using the silence to observe the man in return. Down here on the floor, Lancet noticed so oddly amusing features about the Professor’s face.
He had a slightly crooked bridge to his nose, and a tiny, almost hidden mole tucked right under the rim of his spectacles.
"You are an interesting one, Mr. Leogardt," Chance finally said, his voice carrying clearly across the quiet hall. "Possessing the power to summon a figure so deeply revered in our history is no small feat."
Lancet looked away from the greatly distracting mole and found the professor’s eyes.
*However," Chance continued. "As an Eight-Star Platinum, Astensia Valengard is simply way too powerful for any student’s summon in the Summoner-D class."
Lancet narrowed his brows. Up in the stands, the students raised their necks, the collective anticipation thickening the air.
What is he up to? Lancet thought.
"So, I thought of an idea," Chance continued. "Why don’t I find you a challenge in the higher years? I was certain that so of our seniors wouldn’t mind a Summoner’s Duel with you."
Hearing that, the students in the hall lost their minds.
"A senior? He brought a senior here?!"
"Is a senior really going to battle him?"
"A senior’s Summon in our combat hall? How cool is that! We actually get to see a senior’s Summon fight!"
Professor Chance raised a hand, quickly quieting the excited murmurs. "They were all quite interested," he said, his tone darkening slightly. "But one of them showed more interest than the rest."
Lancet’s mind instantly scrambled into overdrive.
’It better not be Clevus... or Caelem... or any mber of the Serpent Society! This whole thing suddenly feels like a massive trap.’
If Lancet rembered the novel’s lore correctly, even so of the Academy Professors were secretly part of the Society. Could Professor Chance be a Serpent?!
"Hello, Lancet."
Lancet flinched and whipped around, his eyes wide.
Approaching from the professor’s entrance to the battle floor was a young man with neck-length dark hair. He wore a set of black and silver armor, draped over by the Academy uniform robes. On his sleeves, the distinct woven numbers clearly marked him as a Year 3 student.
Lancet’s breath lurched. This guy.
Nereus Grimlake.
The students in the stands went wild with renewed murmurs of excitent and awe.
Up in the back row, Anita grabbed the railing, her eyes wide with shock. "Can Lancet handle it?" she asked Kasto worriedly.
Kasto swallowed hard, his usual excitent replaced by so level of concern. "I’d hope so, with Astensia’s powers. But... Nereus is well known for exploiting weaknesses. He’s really good with prep ti, and it seems that’s exactly what he’s done."
Kasto leaned closer to Anita, dropping his voice. "You see, as a Shadowmancer, shadows are not just dark reflections. They’re also secrets, weaknesses, fears..."
Down on the battle floor, Nereus Grimlake stopped a few paces away from Lancet. His dark eyes locked onto Lancet’s, and he spoke with the chilling, quiet confidence the novel always said he had.
"...hidden in the dark from us, whenever light shines on us," Nereus said. "We show our best selves to the light, Lancet. And we hide everything else in our shadows. Our dark friend."
Lancet narrowed his eyes. "Why are you telling this?"
Nereus allowed for a cold, unenthusiastic smile. "Because you’re not the only one who can summon legends, Lancet Leogardt."
Instantly, the light in the arena dimd by a breath as the shadows cast by the pillars and Lancet himself violently stretched and converged behind Nereus.
From the pooling darkness, a figure began to rise. Viscous, smoking black Grace ford into the shape of a towering, shadowed knight.
It was completely encased in pitch-black armor and radiated an aura that was darkly suffocating and cold.
Lancet’s eyes widened, and he genuinely took a step back.
"Woah!" the crowd scread.
"That’s Argus the Moon Knight!" soone yelled from the upper tier.
"Not literally him, idiot!" another student shot back. "It’s his shadow! Nereus claid his shadow before he died three years ago! I can’t believe we’re actually seeing it here! Argus Silverwolf!"
Nereus lowered his hand, standing proudly before the hulking silhouette of the fallen hero. "Unlike you," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, "I summon the shadows. The true person. Not the idealized version they want us to see. Because of this, my shadows possess the twisted forms of whatever power the Awakener had."
Lancet gazed up at the shadowed knight for a long ti, looking completely and utterly astonished.
Well... he was half astonished. The rest of it, he was entirely faking.
Lancet basically knew every single thing Nereus had just monologued to him. Again, he’d read the novel a million tis.
He had always thought Nereus’s shadowmancy was an incredibly cool power system. But the only thing truly surprising about this entire ordeal was that he actually got to see the fan-favorite character, Argus Silverwolf, in person.
Nereus turned around and walked a few steps back to where his shadow Argus stood, making space for the clash. "Go on, Lancet," Nereus challenged, standing plainly. "Summon the Ironwill of Mortality."
Lancet stared at him for a beat. Everyone watched, waiting.
Then, abruptly, Lancet just smiled.
"I’ve got a better idea," he said. He raised one hand toward the ceiling, pointing a single finger into the air.
"Shazam!"
Nothing happened for a second. The hall was still dead silent.
Nereus stared at the blond boy with complete confusion. "What?"
Suddenly— KRAKOOOMMM!!!
An ear-splitting bolt of lightning blitzed through the ceiling of the Combat Hall, striking the stone floor directly in front of Lancet with the force of a teor.
The entire arena shook violently. Students shrieked and jerked back in their seats, throwing their arms over their faces to block the blinding flash of apocalyptic light.
Smoke, dust, and raw kinetic energy blasted outward. As the blinding blue glare slowly began to recede, arcs of wild, untad electricity continued to violently whip and scorch the cracked stone.
From the center of the crater, a figure slowly rose from a kneeling position. Sparks of lightning crackled around her, sizzling like a naked wire.
She stood at a commanding 181cm, her shoulders broad and her feminine body toned like an empress of war.
Beneath a golden crown, her beautiful mane of white hair whipped around her like a storm cloud, bound by a complex single braid over her left shoulder. An impeccable armor of gold covered her form, and for a weapon, she raised a warhamr from the cracked earth.
The giant thing crackled furiously, feeding off the kinetic energy of her arrival.
As she stood to her full height, the violent sparks of lightning slowly faded from her eyes, revealing a pair of piercing, silver-blue pupils that gazed around her with so puzzlent.
Thor Stormchild tightened her grip on her hamr as her eyes rested on the figures across from her; Nereus Grimlake and the Shadow Knight.
A scowl ford in her force.
"Where in Earth’s na am I?"
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