The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character Chapter 247 247: Ranking Matches [6]

Rin Evans POV:

After the third match of the day ended—which, by the way, had been my match—I made my way to the spectator seats to catch the rest of the matches.

There was a bit of a break between each round in the ranking matches.

Apparently, this was intentional.

The academy had designed it so participants wouldn't burn out fighting back-to-back, giving them enough ti to recover before their next match. On top of that, they wanted cadets to support each other and build camaraderie or sothing noble like that.

I did raise the question once—wouldn't consecutive battles be more realistic in actual combat scenarios?

...But the answer I got was sothing along the lines of "if you fight a strong opponent early, it puts you at an unfair disadvantage," or maybe "the matches are long enough already," or maybe just "shut up, Rin."

Either way, this was how the system worked.

Ryen's match was up next.

And this ti, his opponent wasn't another student—it was a professor.

Yep, he was facing one of the faculty mbers. One of the big dogs.

That ant this would be a serious match.

I leaned back, letting my body sink into the bench while I scanned the arena.

The crowd was buzzing with anticipation. People murmured Ryen's na here and there. He had a reputation after all, he is skilled, and handso guy, ladies favourite.

Anyway, Facing a professor would either polish that reputation… or shatter it.

But knowing Ryen?

He'd aim to burn brighter than ever.

I pulled my hood over my head and settled in.

Let's see what he's got.

Ryen stepped into the arena, radiating the usual stormy confidence he carried into every fight. His uniform fluttered behind him like a war banner, and on his hip rested a simple long sword—unassuming, really. But everyone here knew better.

That sword, in his hands, might as well have been a holy relic.

[Holy Sword of Justice]—his talent glimred faintly, already active the mont his fingers curled around the hilt. It was A-rank, revered, and brutally effective.

Everything Ryen did with a sword was amplified, both in raw strength and divine clarity. Even a broomstick would beco a weapon of radiant destruction if he decided it was a sword.

But standing across from him wasn't just so unlucky cadet.

No.

It was Professor Ray Black.

My future opponent.

And a forr A-rank hero.

This guy wasn't just teaching "Basic Physical Strengthening" because he got old and tired. He could probably turn his lectures into combat demonstrations without breaking a sweat. And from what I'd seen, his class involved more pushups and body slams than actual theory.

Ray Black didn't talk much. He didn't need to.

He walked into the arena with one hand in his pocket, posture loose, eyes half-lidded like he just woke up from a nap.

There was no weapon on him. Just a sleeveless black shirt that showed off those ridiculous arms and a faint smirk on his lips.

He looked at Ryen like he was observing a mildly interesting dog.

The announcer gave the usual pre-fight spiel, but nobody paid much attention.

The crowd was already holding their breath.

Then—

"Begin!"

The mont the word was spoken, Ryen exploded forward, sword flashing in a diagonal arc. He wasn't wasting ti.

There was no testing the waters—just a full-force slash aid at the professor's midsection, fast and clean.

I could feel the energy ripple off it.

But—

Ray Black tilted his head.

Just that.

His body barely shifted. One step to the side, and the holy-infused sword cut nothing but air.

And then, with the sa sleepy expression, he raised one hand and flicked Ryen in the forehead.

Just a flick.

Crack—!

The sound echoed like a whipcrack.

Ryen staggered back, blinking like he'd just been slapped awake.

So students laughed nervously. Others winced.

Ray didn't say anything.

Ryen gritted his teeth and adjusted his stance. His aura flared again—stronger this ti. The ground beneath him cracked slightly as he launched into a flurry of strikes, each one faster, sharper, and more refined than the last.

To his credit, his talent was really sothing. With every swing, his sword shimred in radiant gold. His movents were tight, purposeful. Each strike looked like it could split a boulder in half.

But Ray?

He was dodging them all.

Casually.

A slight lean here. A shift of the foot there. Once or twice, he parried with the back of his hand. Not even using a weapon.

And all the while, he didn't even raise his voice.

"Too tense," he finally muttered, like he was giving feedback during class. "Stop swinging like you're in a rush to impress soone. Or you'll lose."

Ryen's eyes twitched.

Then he growled, "I'm not here to lose."

"Oh?" Ray raised a brow. "Then stop proving right."

I whistled low under my breath.

This match was brutal, but not in the flashy way.

It was the difference in control.

Ryen was fire.

Ray Black was stone.

And fire always scorches itself trying to burn through stone.

I crossed my arms as the fight dragged on. The difference in their levels was obvious now. Ryen had potential—crazy potential. But Ray Black was still a forr hero.

This was the sa man I'd have to fight soon?

Great.

Just great.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation.

Because if I wanted to rise in the rankings, to stand out, to win...

Then I'd have to do what Ryen couldn't.

And that thought?

It made smile.

....from nervousness, of course.

-----

At the end of the match, the duel between Ryen and Professor Ray Black was declared a... draw.

Yeah. A draw.

It didn't sound real when the announcer said it out loud, and it still didn't feel real now that the fight was over.

But the result was official.

Ryen stood there panting, bruised and battered, but his sword still in hand. He looked like he had walked through a storm barefoot but sohow ca out standing. His shirt was torn in three places, and he was bleeding from a shallow cut near his temple.

anwhile, Professor Ray Black looked like he'd just finished a light jog.

No sweat. No scuffs. No damage.

But I knew better.

Near the end, Ray had stopped moving entirely.

Ryen had forced him to block his attacks.

Not once...But more then I could count.

...And when professor Ray attacked him, Ryen would either block, parry or counterattack.

... That's why the result were in draw as there wasn't clear winner.

I stayed in my seat even after the crowd started thinning. So were still murmuring, trying to make sense of the draw.

Others were already arguing—"Ryen deserved the win" or "Ray went easy on him." Maybe both sides had a point.

But I wasn't interested in debates.

I was watching Ryen.

He sheathed his sword slowly, wincing with every small movent. Then, as if realizing the fight was truly over, he straightened up and gave a slight bow toward Ray Black.

Professional. Respectful.

Ray didn't bow back. He just gave a half-nod and walked away like he'd forgotten about the match already.

Classic.

I sighed and stood up, brushing so dust off my cloak. The next match wouldn't start for another fifteen minutes.

Enough ti to check in.

I made my way down from the stands, passing cadets who were still buzzing about the match. A few gave curious looks—the quiet freak who kept to himself.

Let them stare.

Ryen was sitting on a bench near the edge of the arena, elbows on his knees, shirt soaked through with sweat and blood. He looked up when I approached, flashing a tired grin.

"Hey," he rasped. "Enjoy the show?"

"You're lucky I didn't take bets," I said, taking a seat beside him. "I would've lost money on you."

He chuckled, then winced and held his side. "Draw's not bad, right? Against a professor?"

I tilted my head. "He made you work for it."

"And I made him block."

"Fair enough."

There was a short pause. The sound of tal clinking in the distance echoed from the armory.

"Think I impressed him?" Ryen asked, quieter this ti. Not cocky—genuinely curious.

I thought about it. About how Ray had started serious midway through. About the way he'd nodded at the end.

"Yeah," I said. "I think you did."

Ryen leaned back against the wall, breathing in slow. "Good. 'Cause I wasn't swinging to show off. I just..." He paused, staring at his hands. "...wanted to win."

I didn't say anything. What was there to say?

I got it.

We all wanted that, in one way or another.

After a while, I stood up and stretched. "You should rest. That temple cut's still bleeding."

"Yeah, yeah," he waved off. "I'll get it looked at."

"And hey," I added, stepping away. "Nice fight. But I'm still gonna outdo you."

His grin widened, crooked and bloodstained.

"Then you better start praying, Rin."

I walked off without looking back, hood pulled low, hands in my pockets.

Professor Ray Black was still waiting for .

And now that I'd seen what he could do up close...

I wasn't nervous anymore.

I was curious.

---

Author Note:

I'll try to upload 2 chapters from tomorrow.

No promises though.... Still not feeling much better than before.