I pointed at all three of them.
"I want you to challenge me," I said calmly.
"All at once."
For a heartbeat, the cafeteria went quiet.
Then Lioren burst out laughing.
"Kuku… kuhahahaha!" His face twisted with fury as he stepped forward. "Has your ranking finally bloated that empty head of yours, you scum? Do you have any idea who you are talking to?" His voice rose, sharp and cutting.
"During the midterms, we have the right to formally challenge you and strip you of that seat you so clearly do not deserve."
I did not even look at him. I continued wiping the soup and sauce off my sleeve with a napkin, slow and deliberate.
Behind him, the skinny one snapped.
"Tch! I do not even need help. I alone will be enough to put you in your place."
I glanced at him briefly. "Brother, the breeze alone would be enough to knock you over."
The fat one bristled, his face flushing. "You are getting way over your head."
I looked him up and down. "Yeah. And you are way over your stomach."
"That is enough!"
The voice cracked through the noise like a whip.
The murmurs died instantly. Students parted as if pushed aside by an invisible hand, creating a clear path through the crowd.
A woman stepped forward.
She had bright yellow hair streaked with green, tied neatly behind her head, and sharp eyes that missed nothing. Her presence alone carried weight that made even spoiled nobles brats straighten their backs.
She stopped in front of us and looked around once, taking in the mess and the rising tension
"I am Marigold Regleia Blume. Your student council president."
She looked back and forth between us and asked.
"What is going on here?" she asked coolly.
Lioren moved immediately, bowing like a well-trained dog. His voice softened and honeyed.
"It is merely a misunderstanding," he said. "This student has repeatedly insulted my companions and attempted to threaten us by hiding behind the name of a Drakemont, his classmate. We intended to resolve the matter peacefully with a duel, but he arrogantly insisted on facing all three of us at once."
Marigold turned her gaze to me. "Is that true?"
"Half truth, half lies," I replied flatly. "I did say I would take them all at once. I also insulted them because they were being annoying. Everything else is nonsense."
Her eyes shifted to Nagi. "You. As a witness. Can you confirm what they said?"
Nagi looked genuinely disappointed. "No," she said. "When I arrived, they were already talking about a duel."
Marigold exhaled through her nose and turned to the gathered students. "If anyone else witnessed what happened, speak now."
...
...
...
No one moved.
Of course, they did not. Who would willingly stand against a direct bloodline of the Ocypete family?
Behind Marigold, Lioren kept bowing, a wicked grin flashing across his face when he caught my eye.
I clicked my tongue quietly.
Great, I was going to rearrange that carefully maintained face of his so thoroughly that even his own mother would hesitate before calling it handsome.
Marigold straightened, clearly irritated. "Pathetic," she said. "All of you. You stand in Excellia, protected by its rules, yet none of you trust those rules enough to speak the truth when it matters."
Her gaze sharpened as she turned back to Lioren. "As a noble, you above all should be setting an example, not hiding behind intimidation."
Lioren smiled smoothly. "Precisely why I proposed the duel," he said. "To correct his behavior and teach him his place."
Marigold rubbed her temple, clearly tired of his theatrics. "Names and ranks. All of you."
Lioren straightened proudly. "Lioren Agis Ocypete. Arch Pawn rank."
The fat one puffed out his chest. "Runden Ocypete. Pawn rank."
The skinny one followed quickly. "Dun Ocypete. Pawn rank."
Marigold turned to me. "You."
"Matthew," I said. "Unranked."
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Unranked?"
"Then how is he within the top twenty?"
"Did he buy his way in?"
"No, he is a peasant… he couldn't possibly have a way to buy his way in."
Marigold paused, fingers resting against her chin. "Ah," she murmured. "So you are that student Headmaster Éclair mentioned."
The moment she said that perverted witch's name, my scalp prickled.
"…Excuse me?"
She smiled faintly, then made her decision.
"Very well. I will permit the three-versus-one duel," she said.
"Professor Zmey will open the duel grounds and supervise the match under my authority."
She turned, her voice dropping to something ominous. "But understand this. If I hear of any petty squabbles like this again, all of you will be expelled from Excellia without exception."
The crowd swallowed hard, but Lioren's smile only widened.
"I have other matters to attend to." Her face returned to a stoic calm.
"I wish both parties well."
With that, she turned and left.
The moment she was gone, I pivoted and started walking toward the cafeteria exit.
"Where do you think you're going!?" Runden Ocypete, the fat one, shouted after me, voice cracking with outrage.
I glanced over my shoulder.
"Setting up a three-body reservation at the morgue," I said casually. "Care to join?"
"You filthy peas—"
A hand snapped out and stopped both lackeys in place.
Lioren.
"Duel grounds," he said calmly. "Twenty minutes. Miss it, and I will personally make use of those reservations you just booked. Starting with your limbs."
I did not stop walking.
"How very, very scary," I replied, loud enough for all three of them to hear.
I returned to the dorm with Nagi.
I took a shower, scrubbed the smell of cafeteria soup and spilled food off me, and changed into a fresh uniform. The fabric felt reassuringly comfortable as I buttoned my coat.
Nagi lingered near the door, fingers twisting together.
"…You'll be alright, right?" she asked. "You're not actually going to lose?"
"One hundred percent not," I said without hesitation.
She frowned. "What gives you that confidence? You outrank them academically, sure, but in Weaver rankings, they're two stages above you. You are unranked, and they are pawn rank, you know?"
I reached for the door handle.
"Because they're Ocypete brats."
She blinked. "Ocypete brats?"
I opened the door and glanced back at her.
"Watch and see."
The duel grounds were already crowded when I arrived.
Spectators lined the outer ring, whispers buzzing like flies. It was obvious Lioren's lackeys had spread the word. A public show strengthened their grip on anyone weaker than them.
Professor Zmey stood near the center, arms crossed, scowling.
"You again," he growled at Lioren. "How many times is this now? First week of classes, and you bring me a new scapegoat every day. I wonder who today's unfortunate soul is."
He noticed me the moment I stepped onto the arena floor.
"That filthy peasant over there has quite the nerve," pointing straight at me.
I followed his finger, realized it was aimed at me, and instinctively flipped him off in response.
Silence.
Lioren frowned.
Not offended and enraged as I expected.
Just... confused?
I blinked, my finger still raised. Something felt off. I searched through my fragmented memories of this world, old lectures, social norms, gestures, and etiquette.
Ah, right....
Flipping someone off did not exist here.
To them, I was apparently just raising my finger for no reason like an idiot.
Lioren narrowed his eyes. "What is that gesture supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing," I said casually, lowering my hand. "It's a gesture of respect before a fight. You raise your middle finger like this toward someone you consider a worthy opponent."
He scoffed, clearly reassured by his own superiority. "Of course you would. But do not expect me to return such a gesture."
I shrugged and took my stance. "Who knows. Maybe after this match, you'll learn how to do it yourself."
I turned away before he could respond, barely managing to keep my laughter contained.
The skinny one, Dun, sneered.
"At least you didn't run away. I thought you'd vanish the moment you realized what you were up against."
"Alright, lollipop. You're going down first," I said to myself as I returned my focus toward them.
Zmey raised his voice.
"Rules are simple. The match ends upon surrender, knockout, or ring-out. No lethal intent. No permanent injury. No looms. Thirty-minute limit."
She stepped back.
"Battle starts."
_________________________________
In the stands, Nagi leaned forward, hands clenched tight, as an uncomfortable breath of wind swept past her ear.
A sudden shrill squeal escaped her.
"KYAAA—!"
A hand landed gently on her shoulder, calming her down.
"Yo," Tasora said, raising his hand as a greeting.
Nagi turned sharply, flustered and cheeks flushing pink.
Tasora grinned down at her. "Heard something interesting was happening."
She dropped into the seat beside Nagi, laughing. "You should've heard yourself just now. Squealed like a maiden."
Nagi crossed her arms and pouted. "Buzz off."
Tasora tilted her head, eyes gleaming.
"Given that reaction, you're the bottom, huh? Shame. From what I noticed, Matt's also a bottom. How'd that work out?"
Nagi blinked. "What are you even talking about?"
Tasora laughed. "Oh, you're the oblivious type. Cute. So what's going on?"
She glanced toward the arena.
"Well," Nagi said slowly, "those three were annoying Matt nonstop. This is the result."
Tasora raised a brow. "But I annoy him all the time as well."
Nagi scratched her cheek. "It's… a different kind of annoying."
Their attention snapped back to the arena as a deafening sound shook the air.
"KAB000OOOOOOOOOOM!"
A body came flying past the arena and slammed into the wall, leaving a crater behind.
Dun Ocypete, the thin lackey, was thrown out of bounds.
His body twitched on the ground, limbs spasming uncontrollably.
Matt then looked down at him from a distance.
"Told you right?" he said with a grin.
"That the breeze alone would be enough to knock you over."