A red blur struck an empty box.
Morpho hit the wood with her insect legs and bounced back, fluttering in the air.
After a brief delay, the box shuddered and soon fell apart with a loud crack.
Cyril, standing nearby, nodded with satisfaction.
"Good job."
"Amazing job, you are a prodigy!"
Rhamn energetically clapped to the side.
Morpho landed on his shoulder, her antennae twitching with a sense of achievement.
"How is your mana? Do you still have some?"
Morpho slowly nodded.
Cyril observed the fire in her insect eyes for a moment and glanced at the clock.
"It's time to go."
"Tigris, will you go with us?"
The mighty tiger only lazily waved his tail in response.
"...Have a good sleep then."
Cyril changed to his training outfit and exited his dorm room.
Right as he entered the corridor, he noticed a student there widen his eyes at the sight of him and run away.
"...?"
Getting a weird feeling, Cyril stepped outside.
The same student was running in the direction of the training field, waving his hand with excitement in the distance.
"Looks like your duel is going to have some audience."
Lucky.
Nodding to himself, Cyril calmly walked to his appointment.
As he got closer to the training field, he slowed down.
That's more people than I expected....
Close to a hundred people, students of different grades and years, stood near the edge of the field, excitedly whispering among themselves.
Noticing Cyril, their voices got even louder.
"He actually came!"
"That freshman is really confident!"
"I've heard he stepped in to protect a classmate?"
"Oh? I've heard he insulted Bran because he was in class IV, and that's how it started?"
"It's Bran, though. Do you believe he is innocent this time?"
"Huh, your words make sense."
At the very center of the field stood Bran himself, his arms crossed.
On his back was a bulky mace, seemingly unfit for human use.
Near Bran stood a professor Cyril didn't recognize.
They even brought an academy official?
"This is an official duel then! Good."
It was a solemn, middle-aged man with black hair and stubble holding two bracelets.
The spectators around them excitedly stood to the side, letting Cyril pass.
Within them were even some familiar faces.
Myra stood near bored Rose, waving her arm at him.
Briefly waving her back, he noticed another.
Edmund is here too?
His old friend stood there, sending Cyril a confused stare.
"I think all of Class I have gathered to watch this, which makes sense. I also see some people that went to the Tower with us... Of course Leo is there too. He looks really happy, that weakling..."
Must be hoping I lose.
"Tsk, what would his mother say~"
Cyril grabbed a wooden spear on the way and reached the center of the field.
The professor whose name he didn't know immediately walked up and handed him a bracelet.
"Cyril Thorne, you have accepted the challenge and agreed to the conditions of it, is that right?"
Conditions?
Cyril frowned, sending Bran a look.
The second-year student offered him a smirk in return.
"The loser has to kneel before the winner. Why are you not answering, Thorne? You no longer think you are stronger than me?"
Bran mocked, while the professor, hearing this, frowned.
"What do you mea-"
Just as the middle-aged man was about to say something, Cyril took the bracelet, interrupting him.
"I agreed to the duel. Let's not waste any time."
The professor stared at him for a few seconds and finally walked a certain distance away.
Cyril looked at Bran and outstretched his hand. A red butterfly landed on it from his shoulder.
"Do you mind if Morpho takes part in this duel as well?"
Bran froze, while the spectators around them grew more excited.
"Didn't know you were a beast tamer, Thorne."
"Is that a no?"
"I don't mind." Bran chuckled as he grabbed the mace on his back.
"But don't cry if I 'accidentally' kill your stupid fly. It is a duel after all, and there are no bracelets for them."
"...I see," Cyril replied, his already cold blue eyes somehow becoming a level colder.
Bran flinched for a moment before a smirk returned to his face, with a little more anger to it now.
"Tch, think you are hot stuff? ...Can we start already?" He glanced at the professor nearby.
As the two wore their bracelets and activated them, the professor acting as the judge raised his hand.
"Ready?"
"..."
"Start!"
Bran immediately activated a spell. There was no pattern visible on his magic circle, as if it were obscured by a lid.
Soon the second year's muscles visibly bulged as he raised his mace, wielding it in one hand.
Cyril did nothing. His spear was lowered as he curiously observed the spell of his opponent.
It physically affected him? Will his looks go back?
"Doesn't matter! Just crush him!"
Cyril took a deep breath and sent a glance to the butterfly now fluttering in the air.
"Morpho, he insulted you. Do you want to pay him back?"
The red butterfly twitched her antennae, a rare anger to her flutter.
Bran observed Cyril whisper to his butterfly, and a vein popped on his forehead.
"You arrogant snob!"
The now hulking student charged forward, his mace raised high.
Cyril turned to him, calmly observing his approach.
The moment Bran stepped in close enough, the butterfly shot forward.
With a ruthless expression, Bran swung his mace, with ease as if it were a dagger, right at Morpho.
As the blow was about to connect, Morpho greatly sped up and evaded the swing, using her butterfly agility.
Just as Bran's eyes gained panic, Morpho, with great momentum, hit him right in the chest.
There was a small shock wave at the point of contact, and the butterfly bounced back, recovering her flight after a second.
In a wobbly manner she landed back on Cyril's shoulder.
Bran recovered after his failed swing, jumped back, and touched his chest a few times in alarm.
His face slowly turning confused, he looked at Cyril, who still didn't make any movements.
"I was surprised there for a moment. You've missed your only chance to beat me! I'll go fully now!"
Bran scoffed and took a step closer.
But suddenly he froze, not moving even a muscle.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Is this a play?"
"Was that butterfly poisonous?"
Just as the spectators started whispering in confusion, Bran's face showed pain.
His skin on the chest was twisting and turning unnaturally.
It appeared as if there were numerous bugs crawling underneath it.
Bran opened his mouth, but no scream came out.
Cyril calmly approached his helpless opponent.
Under the spectators' confused eyes, he simply looked at Bran's twisting body with curiosity.
It bypassed the barrier...
The second year wobbly moved around, and even attempted to lift his mace, but it fell out of his hands.
Then, Bran clenched his teeth and charged at Cyril, waving his shaking hand.
Cyril quickly jabbed him in the chest, his attack arriving faster.
A similar shock wave to before happened, only a bit bigger.
Bran's pupils constricted at the familiar feeling, as fear filled his eyes completely.
Before he managed to mutter anything, his whole body began convulsing.
This time he fell on the ground, and a gut-wrenching scream finally escaped his lips.
Cyril observed the state of his opponent with interest, sometimes nodding in satisfaction.
The spectators were now completely silent, a few soft-hearted people even turned around and closed their ears.
Though a single cheering broke through the silence.
Among the students, Myra waved her arms excitedly, slowly turning confused at the reaction of people around her.
Rose had her eyes widened, with no clear emotion visible on her face.
Edmund was in a similar state nearby, though a slight smirk was soon plastered on his face.
After a bit more time, Bran's body finally stopped moving, and blood slowly leaked from his mouth.
The academy staff members quickly came in, cast a few spells, and carried the body away.
"Pathetic."
Cyril's voice wasn't loud, but in this silence it was enough for everyone to hear it.
With this, the crowd woke up and started to discuss the short duel with excitement.
Some people with interest were debating what that butterfly did with that attack, and some were trying to ask Cyril's classmates what happened.
"I never doubted even for a second!" Myra proudly put her hands on her hips.
"...Yeah." Rose helplessly muttered, soon regaining her calm.
"Cyril is ruthless, isn't he?"
Edmund shook his head with a nostalgic smile.
"The duel is over!" The professor only now announced, sending Cyril a worried look.
"You could've ended the fight earlier, so it's not our fault!"
Cyril nodded to the judge and looked around the crowd. The majority who happened to meet his gaze froze and looked away.
To him it seemed there was even more fear in their eyes now.
...I messed up.
"Can't be helped! It was that guy's fault for angering us! Tsk, we will pay him back later."
With this, Cyril calmly walked towards the weapon's rack and put the spear he hadn't used away.
"It's fine. This will not interfere with our plan. We just need to spread bad rumors about Bran, maybe convince everyone that he deserved it...?"
The people on the way cautiously gave way, staring at him with awe and fear.
"Anyways, it's not too bad. At least more know our might now." Rhamn was meeting the stares with a smug expression. "Good job, Cyril and Morpho!"
"So what if we are a little proud? If our opponent is not some monster, we'll easily destroy them!"
The butterfly on his shoulder fluttered her wings proudly, basking in the stares as well.
Bran wasn't that strong. Or maybe he didn't have the opportunity to show what he knows? He was blinded by his confidence…
"...Hmph."
Still, Selene's technique is really not bad. Morpho was able to effectively end the fight in one attack.
...It does seem unnaturally painful, but that is due to our lack of skill. We simply let mana ravage the opponent's body, while we should've carefully led it in a pinpoint attack.
"We have a lot of time to better it, no hurry."
Cyril suddenly paused, finding his path blocked.
"...?"
There stood an academy staff member with a sheepish smile.
"Mr. Thorne, could you please follow us for a quick discussion about the duel? It won't take long, we promise."
Oh.