As Percy stepped fully into view, Liam recognized him almost imdiately. A mory surfaced—sharp, cold, and frad by moonlight.
During Liam’s first month at the academy, back when he and Asher were still struggling through Galen’s maddeningly advanced training, the two of them had stayed out all night in one of the outer training fields, trying to replicate a technique Galen had only demonstrated once. They were exhausted, borderline delirious, and completely unaware of the ti. That was when two upperclassn had appeared, drunk on their own authority and eager to intimidate a pair of first-years who clearly didn’t belong there at that hour.
Things had escalated quickly, threatening to spiral out of control, until Percy Granger—already famous even then—had erged from the shadows and shut everything down with nothing more than a voice edged like frost. His presence alone had forced the two third-years into retreat, and that brief encounter had carved his na sharply into Liam’s mory.
Since that night, Liam had never crossed paths with the rank one third-year. Not once.
Liam studied him now with the sa unshaken calm that Percy directed at him. From afar, the two of them would’ve looked eerily similar—quiet, composed, unreadable. But up close, one carried a heavier, more oppressive air, a coldness that clung to the night like a thin sheet of ice.
’I was expecting soone to try sothing after Mystica confird what I was,’ Liam thought, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. ’But I didn’t expect it to be him.’
Then sothing clicked. A single thread of thought tugged through his mind. ’Wait... he ntioned Lady Seraphina. And that ice attack just now...’ The pieces aligned with unsettling clarity. ’Is he the "Absolute Zero" Lady Seraphina talked about? The one she said was similar to but colder?’
The longer Liam looked at him, the more certain he beca. Percy wasn’t just so prodigy. He was the student Seraphina had compared him to—the one described as icy, dangerously talented, and intolerably arrogant.
"Are you done figuring out who I am," Percy said dryly, "other than the obvious fact that I’m Percy Granger?"
Liam held his gaze for a quiet mont before responding. "Yeah, pretty much." His tone remained steady. "But why are you here? And more importantly—what was the point of that attack earlier? Not exactly appropriate to ambush your junior out of nowhere."
He paused briefly and cast a subtle side-glance toward Sheila. She had been tense ever since her brother appeared, a mix of fear and nerves flattening her usual composure.
"If you did that because I’m walking with your sister, thinking sothing’s going on between us, you’ve got the wrong idea," Liam added, tone so calm it bordered on cold.
Sheila flinched at his bluntness, her shoulders tightening.
Percy’s expression shifted faintly, irritation flickering through his otherwise neutral mask. "I don’t care about any of that. You two can indulge in whatever you want—ans nothing to . She’s her own problem." His voice carried a biting chill that made Sheila’s head lower, her confidence shrinking under the weight of his disapproval. She didn’t even try to et his eyes.
’Well... that confirms it,’ Liam thought, observing the way Sheila all but folded. ’He really doesn’t like her just like Dylan said. Or he’s trying very hard not to like her. Either way... Sheila reacts to him way too strongly. Turns her into soone completely different.’
He glanced back at her briefly, his expression hardening. ’This isn’t ideal for .’
"I’m here because of you, dark mage," Percy continued. "I’ve been aning to et you ever since Lady Seraphina wouldn’t shut up about you. And finding out you’re a dark magic user only made more interested."
"And?" Liam replied, tone even, bordering on bored. "Am I supposed to feel flustered or sothing?"
Percy blinked, montarily surprised, before a small smirk touched his lips.
’Yeah,’ he thought to himself, ’this kid really is exactly how Lady Seraphina described him. Blunt, sharp, and sohow respectful all at once.’
"Well then," Percy said, straightening slightly. "Since we’re being direct, I’ll get straight to the point. I want to duel you. With the way Lady Seraphina praises you, I’m curious to see your strength. And since I’ve never fought a dark mage before—"
"I refuse," Liam cut in without hesitation.
Percy’s expression twisted. "What?"
"I said I refuse." Liam’s tone did not shift. "I’m not interested in dueling you. So go find soone else."
Percy studied him for a long mont, the temperature around them seeming to drop by a few degrees as he finally spoke again.
"You seem to have misunderstood ," he said, voice calm but edged in frost. "I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was telling you that we are going to duel. And you don’t have a choice."
The instant those final words rolled off Percy’s tongue, sothing shifted in Liam so sharply it might as well have cut the air. His posture barely changed, his breath remained slow, and his expression stayed calm, but the presence he radiated turned razor-edged. A cold, suffocating weight bled into the atmosphere, settling around Percy like an unseen blade pressed to his throat. Liam’s eyes stayed locked on him—unblinking, flat, and predatory, stripped of anything remotely human.
"See," Liam said quietly, his voice carrying none of the warmth of conversation, only the frigid certainty of a man stating a fact, "you might not know well, and that’s fine. But let make one thing extrely clear. I do not respond well to anyone trying to dictate my life. I have zero tolerance for that kind of bullshit."
The subtle quake that ran through the air wasn’t mystical; it ca from Percy himself, whose eyes widened just a fraction before he regained control. He didn’t falter—if anything, a quiet, pleased smirk tugged at his lips, sothing almost predatory, as though Liam’s reaction only confird sothing he had hoped to see.
’For soone younger, he carries himself like soone standing shoulder-to-shoulder with ,’ Percy mused, studying Liam with sharpened interest. ’There’s no fear or hesitation. Just unfiltered intent.’
After letting the tension simr for a breath, Percy finally spoke. "Just as I expected. You’re worthy of dueling."
His voice was calm again, steady and almost polite, but Liam’s eyes narrowed just slightly, watching him with a guarded tilt of his head. Percy took note of the suspicion and raised a hand in a loose, almost apologetic gesture.
"I apologize for that earlier," he said evenly. "I shouldn’t have crossed that line, especially since I’m the one requesting a duel."
Liam’s stare didn’t soften. ’So he knew what he was doing and still did it?’ he thought, irritation simring beneath his calm. ’What ga is he trying to play here?’ The question lingered, but he forced his thoughts to settle, taking a slow breath as he leveled his voice again.
"Look," Liam said, "the gap in our strength and skill is wide. Lady Seraphina talks about you a lot. Sir Magna praises you too. For those reasons alone, I refuse to duel with you." His tone stayed calm but firm. "That aside, I have no intention of doing sothing that I won’t benefit from."
That last remark made Percy’s composure falter. Only slightly, but enough for his eyes to narrow. "Are you implying there’s nothing to gain from fighting ? Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"Let rephrase," Liam said, unbothered. "I don’t plan on dueling you for free. There has to be sothing I get out of it."
Percy stared at him for a heartbeat, then let out a quiet, amused exhale as a smirk curved his lips. "So you really were paying attention in Lady Seraphina’s class," he said. "Fine. What do you want in exchange for accepting my request?"
"As for what I want..." Liam’s gaze sharpened. "We’ll discuss that later. First tell what kind of duel you’re proposing. If you’re planning to use affinities, I refuse. Your mastery over ice is far beyond my flas and darkness combined. You’d win regardless."
Percy considered that, then nodded. "What if I limit myself to using only fifty percent of my ability? Fair enough?" he offered. "You can go all out. And if it makes things easier, you win the mont you land five critical hits on ."
Liam studied him for a long mont. The confidence behind Percy’s terms wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. But there was no mockery in it, only a challenge. Finally Liam nodded.
"I accept your duel," he said. "And I’m free anyti except tonight and tomorrow."
Percy smirked, as if he’d expected nothing less. "Good. Now, about your demand—"
"I’ll tell you what it is after our duel," Liam said, tone as calm as ever.
Suspicion flickered in Percy’s eyes. "And why is that?"
"Relax. I’m not about to ask for sothing beyond your capabilities. I just want you to keep your word once I tell you what it is."
The way he said it—smooth, steady, almost reassuring—made Percy pause. He didn’t trust it, not entirely, but sothing in Liam’s voice pushed the doubt back, nudging it just enough for him to relent.
"...Alright," Percy said at last. "I’ll trust your words for now. And I promise to fulfill my end of the agreent. So be ready when I co to claim our duel."
"You have my word I’ll keep my end as well," Liam replied.
Percy held his stare a mont longer before turning away, his boots crunching softly against the ground as he moved toward the direction he had first appeared from. But before he slipped fully into the shadows, he glanced sideways toward Sheila—still standing quiet and stiff, her eyes lowered like she was afraid to lift them.
Even so, as Percy’s gaze brushed over her, her eyes lifted just long enough to et his. Only a heartbeat. A flicker. But she jerked her gaze away instantly, shoulders tightening as though his presence alone suffocated her.
Percy didn’t stop walking. He simply let his expression flatten into sothing colder, sothing unreadable, before he vanished back into the darkness he ca from, leaving Liam and Sheila alone in the settling quiet.
User Comments
0 comments from readers