(THIRD PERSON’S POV)
On the afternoon after Will saved Crestia from Alad’s bullying, the atmosphere between them had grown more comfortable, a sense of camaraderie born from shared adversity. They decided to team up, vowing to face Alad together if he dared to make another move. Though the air still carried a hint of tension, it was overshadowed by their resolve to protect each other.
After spending so ti in the cafeteria, chatting cautiously about the events of the day, they eventually decided it was best to part ways and return to their respective dorms. The unwritten agreent hung heavy in the air: avoid unnecessary risks, and under no circumstances venture out alone. Both understood that the safety of numbers was their best defense.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow across the academy grounds, a much darker scene unfolded in a different part of the school. The fighting ground, a well-known but unofficial arena for students to settle their disputes through combat, was eerily silent in the afternoon. The wide, circular area was flanked by towering stone walls, their surfaces marked by countless scars of previous battles. While it usually ca alive at night with students looking to test their luck and earn money or settle debts, it now lay deserted, save for three figures.
Seated on a makeshift throne fashioned from rough-hewn stone, a young woman with long, golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes lounged with an air of authority. She wore an expression of amused disbelief as she listened to the man kneeling before her. Her fingers drumd idly on the armrest of her "throne," the rhythm steady yet laced with impatience.
"What did you just say? Alad lost to a first-year student? Are you kidding?" she demanded, her voice sharp and incredulous. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as if searching Werk’s face for any sign of dishonesty.
Werk, his body stiff with tension, kept his gaze firmly lowered. His face, mostly obscured by thick bandages, betrayed little emotion, but the humiliation in his posture was evident. The burly man, who had once stood confidently as one of Alad’s trusted allies, now appeared as nothing more than a defeated shadow of himself.
"No, I’m not lying," Werk replied, his voice steady but subdued. "That first-year student really defeated both Alad and . He knocked us out cold." His words seed to hang in the air, heavy with the weight of the unspoken sha.
The girl’s lips curled into a disbelieving smile as she sank back into her seat. "How could a first-year accomplish such a feat? You two must have grossly underestimated him. That’s the only explanation I can think of," she said, her tone cold yet tinged with curiosity.
Werk nodded stiffly. "Yes, that must be the case," he admitted. "At first, Alad was rely toying with him, thinking he was just another easy target for bullying. I... I didn’t think much of it either. But that boy—" Werk’s voice faltered for a mont, his mind flashing back to the mory of the fight. "He wasn’t normal. There was sothing different about him. His movents, his presence... he didn’t falter even when faced with Alad’s strength."
The girl’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as she considered Werk’s words. "Hah! That’s what Alad gets for not taking his fights seriously. Honestly, it’s his arrogance that always gets him into trouble. However, even if Alad underestimated him, this first-year must possess so remarkable skills to defeat soone of Alad’s caliber. Ordinary first-years wouldn’t stand a chance. Despite his deanor, I know how strong Alad really is," she mused, twirling a strand of her golden hair absentmindedly.
Werk hesitated before speaking again, his voice quieter this ti. "Yes... I was caught off guard too. That boy, he’s not just skilled with a sword—he can use magic as well." His hands clenched into fists, the mory of the sudden surge of power that had overwheld him still fresh in his mind. "I didn’t even see it coming. One mont, I thought I had the upper hand, and the next, I was on the ground."
The girl’s interest deepened, her playful smile returning. "A swordsman who can also wield magic, huh? Now that is interesting," she said, leaning forward slightly. "What’s his na?"
Werk shook his head slowly, frustration evident in his movents. "I don’t know his na. They didn’t follow proper swordsman’s etiquette during the match. But... if I recall correctly, the girl he was with called him Will."
"Will," the girl repeated, rolling the na over her tongue as if testing its weight. "What a mundane na. Still, it doesn’t matter. If he managed to defeat both you and Alad, then he’s far from ordinary. I’ll admit, I’m intrigued. But..." Her lips curled into a mischievous grin as she leaned back once more. "I’ll wait. I prefer when people co to willingly."
Werk glanced up, confusion evident even beneath his bandages. "Present himself?" he asked hesitantly, unsure of her aning.
The girl’s eyes sparkled with amusent as she nodded. "Yes. I know Alad well enough to predict his next move. He’s full of pride, and there’s no way he’ll let this humiliation slide. He’ll want revenge, no matter the cost."
Werk seed to shift uncomfortably at her words, but he didn’t dare interrupt. The girl continued, her voice soft but edged with certainty. "That boy—Will—he’s caught Alad’s attention. And now he’s caught mine as well. But I’ll let Alad make the first move. I don’t need to lift a finger. That guy is cunning, always scheming. I guarantee he’s already planning sothing as we speak."
"Very well. Let’s leave it at that," she said, her voice calm but tinged with the cold precision of soone who always remained in control. Her gaze shifted to Werk, who was still kneeling on the ground before her, head bowed in submission. "What about the other matter I asked you to investigate?"
Werk lifted his head slightly, careful not to et her gaze directly. Despite his large build and rough exterior, his body seed smaller in the shadow of Julie’s commanding presence. The bandages wrapped tightly around his face only added to his beaten-down deanor, but his voice remained steady.
"Ah, yes," Werk replied, clearing his throat. "Your guess was correct. That mysterious masked man was indeed hired by Alad."
Julie’s smirk widened into a triumphant grin. She sat up straighter, her blue eyes flashing with satisfaction. "Hah! I knew it from the beginning. Only Alad could orchestrate such a hiring. It’s just like him to try and rig the system to his advantage."
Werk nodded, hesitating briefly before elaborating. "During each match, Alad would wait for everyone to place their bets, and afterward, he’d wager on the least favored participant. Then, he’d instruct the masked man to win or lose based on his bet."
Julie tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting to one of mild amusent. She reached out to tuck a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, a habit she often indulged in while deep in thought. "Typical Alad," she said with a soft chuckle. "Always playing dirty to satisfy his pride and greed. But that’s why he’s predictable."
Reaching into the folds of her cloak, Julie pulled out a small, glittering gold coin. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it casually toward Werk. The coin clinked against the stone floor before coming to rest just inches from his knees.
"Here’s a tip for your effort," she said. Her tone was casual, but the gesture carried a weight of authority. "Continue acting as Alad’s subordinate and inform of any new developnts. I expect regular updates."
Werk bowed his head even lower, his gratitude apparent in his voice. "Yes, my queen, Julie." He scooped up the gold coin, clutching it tightly in his hand as if it were a lifeline. Without another word, he rose to his feet and left, his footsteps echoing faintly as he disappeared into the dimly lit corridor leading out of the fighting ground.
The silence that followed his departure lingered for only a mont before the third figure in the room finally spoke. Ricky, a towering young man with dark hair and a physique that seed more fitting for a seasoned warrior than a 15-year-old, stepped forward. His broad shoulders and muscular build radiated strength, but his furrowed brows betrayed the unease simring within him.
"Is that really okay?" Ricky asked, his deep voice resonating through the empty arena. His expression was a mixture of concern and frustration as he looked at Julie, who was once again reclining on her throne. "Are we just going to let Alad do whatever he wants?"
Julie didn’t respond imdiately. Instead, she let her gaze wander toward the high stone walls surrounding them. The golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the ground through a small window, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. Her fingers resud their rhythmic drumming on the armrest as she finally spoke.
"Yeah, for now, we’ll let him be," she said nonchalantly, her tone carrying a hint of amusent. "We can benefit from his actions as well. If we have Werk inform us of Alad’s chosen participant, we can also make so money."
Ricky’s frown deepened, his large hands balling into fists at his sides. "What you’re saying is true," he admitted reluctantly, "but is it really acceptable for the managent of this entire fighting ground to allow soone to cheat unchecked? Isn’t this supposed to be a place of honor, even if it’s unofficial?"
Julie’s laughter rang out, light and mocking. She leaned forward, fixing Ricky with a pointed stare. "Honor?" she repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Don’t make laugh, Ricky. There’s no such thing as honor in this disgusting academy. Everything here is about power, money, and survival. That’s the only truth that matters."
Ricky’s shoulders sagged slightly, her words striking a chord that he couldn’t deny. He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression conflicted. "I just... don’t like it," he muttered, almost to himself.
Julie’s gaze softened slightly, though her resolve remained unwavering. She stood from her throne, her cloak billowing slightly as she moved toward Ricky. Despite her smaller stature, her presence seed to tower over him as she spoke with quiet determination.
"Ricky, don’t worry about trivial matters like that. I know what I’m doing," she said firmly. "When I deem that Alad is of no further use to us, I’ll make sure he shoulders the consequences of his actions. Until then, let him play his little gas. We’ll use him as much as he’s using everyone else."
Ricky looked down at her, his dark eyes searching hers for a mont before he sighed in resignation. "If you say so," he said softly. "I’ll trust your judgnt and let you handle it your own way."
Julie smiled, a rare hint of warmth breaking through her otherwise calculating deanor. She reached out and placed a hand on Ricky’s arm, her touch both reassuring and resolute. "You know I’ll do anything to achieve our goal," she said, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "To accumulate 1,000 gold coins and escape this disgusting academy together. That’s all that matters."
Ricky’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "Yeah," he said, his voice steady. "We’ll leave this place together. No matter what it takes."
Julie nodded, her determination unwavering. Without another word, she turned and began walking toward the exit, her golden hair catching the fading light like a beacon. Ricky watched her for a mont before following, his heavy footsteps echoing behind her as they left the fighting ground.
As they disappeared into the twilight, the fighting ground fell silent once more, the shadows lengthening as darkness began to creep in. Their plans were set in motion, and in the stillness of the arena, one truth beca clear: the gas were only just beginning.
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