The hushed anticipation in the stadium was palpable as the clash between Lykhor and Sephira reached its conclusion.
As the dust and debris settled, Sephira lay sprawled on the arena floor, unconscious. Standing tall, unscathed, and cruelly triumphant was Lykhor, who had effortlessly sidestepped Sephira's desperate assault and incapacitated her from multiple angles.
Lykhor's cruel laughter broke the silence. "She's weak," he jeered, addressing the onlookers. "Is she truly part of your esteed family, Alvara?" His words dripped with disdain.
Alvara, seated calmly with her legs crossed in the highest tier of the stadium, cast a disinterested glance toward her fallen cousin. "Boring," she muttered with indifference.
"Right? Let's make it more interesting then!" Lykhor seized the opportunity to add further insult, ruthlessly kicking Sephira's limp form. Celesta couldn't remain silent any longer and yelled, "Enough! She's defenseless!"
Lykhor sneered at Celesta's outburst. "You do have keen eyes, Celes," he quipped, "but this isn't over. Her bracers can still take a beating!" With renewed vigor, he lunged at Sephira, gripped her by the shirt, and flung her forcefully against the arena wall.
Sephira's coughing fit ended with a mouthful of blood as she slumped to the ground, her condition clearly dire even though she was protected by the bracers.
"Professor!" Desperation filled his voice as Cylien turned to Professor Gamir Teraquin. However, the professor remained eerily indifferent to his foster daughter's plight, a coldness in his gaze that sent shivers through the crowd.
"That's it, Lykhor!" Allen's laughter broke the tension in the air. He seed rather amused by the spectacle of his older cousin getting battered.
The audience's reactions were as diverse as they were disturbing. Compassion mixed with indifference, and a sick enjoynt seed to taint so spectators' faces as they relished in Sephira's suffering due to her Half-blood heritage.
As I observed this cruel drama unfold, I couldn't help but ponder the twisted nature of our society. It beca increasingly evident that strength was the currency that truly mattered here, and Sephira had no one but herself to bla for her perceived weakness.
Just as Lykhor prepared for another brutal strike, a sudden, unexpected savior descended from above. Sirius leaped to Sephira's defense, shielding her from further harm. "Why are you interfering in a match? This is against the rules, Sirius," Lykhor, a sinister smile curling his lips, questioned Sirius's interference.
But Sirius wouldn't have any of it. "Shut it," he retorted, glaring fiercely at Lykhor as he gently lifted the battered Sephira to safety.
"Where are you going?" Lykhor asked, raising his leg, poised to deliver a vicious kick. Just before he could land it, another figure intervened.
"Victor…" Sirius glanced over his shoulder and saw Victor, coldly gripping Lykhor's leg.
"Won't you help your brothers, Cyril?" The voice belonged to Rodolf, who leaned back casually with his arms folded behind his head, grinning at Cyril. Cyril, in stark contrast, appeared apathetic, showing no sign of concern for his two brothers' predicant. My curiosity led to steal a glance at Alicia, who wore an inscrutable expression.
"Go ahead, Sirius. She needs treatnt," Victor directed his half-brother, his voice resonating with a sense of duty.
"Thanks…" Sirius's face bore a conflicted expression as he nodded to Victor, acknowledging his help.
Lykhor, sensing Victor's determination in his grip on his leg, taunted him further. "Wanna fight, Victor?" With a mocking laugh, Lykhor deftly extricated himself from Victor's hold and sprang back with an agile leap.
"This was unnecessary and untoward, cousin," Cylien walked past Lykhor, her expression heavy with disapproval, as he approached Sirius and the fallen Sephira.
Lykhor, on the other hand, seed nonchalant about the whole affair. He offered a shrug and a smirk in response. "I just wanted to make the fight a little more interesting, like Alvara said, it was boring."
Cylien, however, didn't rise to the provocation but instead turned his gaze to Alvara. She looked down at the unfolding drama with an air of amusent, seemingly regarding it as nothing more than an entertaining spectacle. His voice laced with conviction, Cylien warned Lykhor and indirectly Alvara, "Every one of your actions will be returned to you in a backlash. I assure you."
Tension hung thick in the air until Gamir finally spoke, putting an end to the disturbing scene. "That's all for today's session. You may leave."
"Victor…." As Lykhor sauntered away with his typical air of smugness, Celeste grabbed Victor's sleeve, concerned. Victor, still staring at Lykhor's retreating figure, voiced his frustration. "Will they one day stop this farce? I'm not Connor. I can't stop them. I don't have his strength or his will. I-I just want to beat those guys until they regret everything they did…"
Celeste smiled and gave Victor's shoulder a gentle punch. "You can't be this defeatist! If you want to beat them, then do it in the next class!"
"Yeah, I will," Victor replied, managing a smile as he ruffled his hair.
"Are you finished?"
Both Victor and Celeste looked up in surprise as Selene appeared out of nowhere.
Silence hung between them briefly as Selene's crimson gaze shifted between Celeste and Victor. She finally broke the silence, her tone curt. "Let's go, Victor."
Victor nodded and followed Selene, leaving Celeste behind.
With a sigh of relief, Celeste muttered to herself before following them.
I watched this scene unfold for a mont before deciding to leave as well. John joined , offering his own thoughts. "She was weak," he remarked.
I couldn't help but laugh at John's mindset. "You have the perfect mindset to be part of Alvara's class," I comnted with a hint of admiration.
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