NOVEL NEXT Chapter 14: The Stage is Set
His finger, or rather, his intent, hovered over the item in the system shop. It was a gamble, but it was the only one he had.
His balance was 1,010 P. Just enough.
'Purchase,' he commanded in his mind.
[SYSTEM STOREFRONT]
[Confirm Purchase: Stalling Edge (Survival Sword Technique)?]
[Cost: 1,000 P.]
[YES / NO]
'Yes.'
A wave of information, dense and complex, flooded his mind. It wasn't just knowledge; it was instinct.
He saw intricate patterns of blade work, defensive postures, and footwork meant to create distance. It was an entire martial art, downloaded directly into his soul.
[Purchase successful. New balance: 10 P.]
[New Skill Acquired.]
At that exact moment, the grizzled old professor finished his lecture. "Class dismissed."
Azrael stood up, his mind still reeling from the influx of new knowledge. He needed to find a quiet place to process this new skill before the duel.
He was heading for the exit when the door to the lecture hall opened.
A boy wearing the pristine white and gold uniform of the student council stepped inside. He had a short, polite conversation with the professor.
The professor unrolled a scroll, his eyes scanning the contents. He then turned to the now-lingering students.
"An announcement," the professor's voice boomed. "As per the official schedule, a sanctioned duel will take place today."
"The candidates are from this very class."
He paused for dramatic effect. "Kaelen Valerius and Azrael Ashveil."
A wave of excited whispers erupted.
"The match is scheduled to begin in twenty minutes in the Grand Colosseum," the professor continued. "The rest of you are on break."
He then fixed his gaze on Azrael and Kaelen. "You two will report to the arena antechamber immediately for inspection. Now, get out."
The class was dismissed for real this time. A flood of students poured out, many of them casting glances at Azrael.
They were looks of pity, of morbid curiosity. The looks one gives to a man already condemned.
'You're done for.' He could hear the unspoken words in their eyes.
Kaelen stood up, a confident, almost predatory smile on his handsome face. He gave Azrael a look that was both a promise and a threat, then left.
Everyone knew this battle was a foregone conclusion. Everyone knew who the winner would be.
Even Azrael knew. He wasn't fighting to win. He was fighting for his pride, and for a chance at a future.
He made his way to the Grand Colosseum. It was a magnificent structure of white marble and gold, that could seat thousands.
The duel between two of the most powerful noble houses was a major event. Add in the hero prince and the notorious villain, and it became the hottest ticket at the academy.
And the girl at the center of it all, Seraphina Vane, only made the drama more perfect.
He was escorted to the antechamber, a stark, stone room beneath the arena stands. Kaelen was already there, looking completely at ease.
Student council members conducted the inspection.
"No personal weapons are allowed in a sanctioned duel," a stern-faced girl explained. "You may only use the weapons provided by the academy."
They were led to an armory. Racks of swords, spears, axes, and daggers lined the walls, all of them of masterwork quality.
Azrael knew what Kaelen would pick. A longsword, the weapon he had trained with since childhood. For Kaelen, a sword was as natural as breathing.
And then there was him. A man who hadn't even held a weapon until two weeks ago.
He walked to the sword rack. He had Sebastian's brutal training, a sliver of understanding of the Flowing Steel Style, and one skill he had bet his entire fortune on.
He chose a simple, unadorned longsword. It felt balanced in his hand. It would have to do.
A bell chimed, signaling the start of the match. They were led up a tunnel and into the blinding light of the arena. The roar of the crowd was deafening.
He walked to his side of the circular battle stage. Kaelen stood opposite him, looking every bit the glorious hero.
The announcer's magically amplified voice boomed across the colosseum.
"On one side, we have the top-ranked student of the second year, the Golden Prince of Valerium, Kaelen Valerius!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"And his opponent, from the esteemed House of Ashveil, Azrael Ashveil!"
A mixture of boos and polite, obligatory applause met his name.
The announcer continued, but Azrael tuned him out. His mind was focused on one thing. The quest.
'Survive for thirty minutes.'
It was a fool's move. An impossible task. He knew Kaelen's skillset intimately from the countless panels he had drawn.
He recalled the hero's first and most terrifying ability, a passive skill that made him a true beast of attrition: Battleborn Will.
Kaelen didn't get tired in a fight. Instead, his body adapted, his strength and speed steadily rising with each passing moment.
And that skill synced perfectly with his signature sword technique: Dawnfall Strike. It was a devastating downward slash that channeled all his accumulated might.
The final bell chimed, signaling the start of the duel. The world seemed to slow down. Kaelen was smiling, raising his sword.
'Thirty minutes,' Azrael thought, his heart sinking into a pit of absolute despair. 'He gets stronger every second, and I have to survive for thirty minutes?'
'This isn't a quest. It's a death sentence.'