Kael's POV:
'Damn it, that bitch broke my scapula!' Kael thought while holding his shoulder, feeling the cracked bone pulsing pain with each heartbeat.
But fate was not merciful to the man.
CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP!
Fast footsteps were coming in his direction at an alarming speed.
Looking toward the sound of the footsteps, he could see the woman—whom he would swear was a demon incarnate—approaching with her legs heavily fortified by aura. By his estimates, she would be there to attack him in less than three seconds.
'These bastards ignored everything the professor said!'
Ignoring the pain, Kael quickly removed the shield he carried on his left arm and equipped it on his right arm.
Three seconds.
The distance was shortening.
Two seconds.
He assumed a low defensive posture, shield forward, feet firmly planted. No sword, no options. Only survival.
One second.
She jumped.
She didn't run the last few meters. She jumped. Body spinning in the air like a deadly dancer, and the sword that should belong to him was spinning in the enemy's hands charged with aura that made the air around distort between red and darkness.
CLANG!
The sword descended in a brutal vertical arc, with impressive force behind the blow. Kael blocked with the shield, but the impact vibrated through his already injured bones and made him grit his teeth.
'How does she have so much strength?!' he thought desperately. 'She's a first-year! FIRST YEAR! Even if she's the best in her class, this doesn't make sense!'
But there was no time for analysis.
She was already on the second attack. And this time not a sword cut.
Kick.
Left leg charged with aura, aiming at the ribs while the sword maintained high pressure. A combination that forced an impossible choice—block the blade and accept the kick, or defend the kick and be cut in half by the psychopath.
Kael chose the shield against the sword.
And the kick arrived.
Pain crossed his left side. Not breaking ribs—not yet—but force enough to steal air from his lungs.
'The damn woman is good,' he recognized, dazed. 'She uses the sword to control distance and position me where she wants, and when I'm at the exact point she uses kicks to hit openings when I defend the blade.'
It was a tactic that took years to master. And she executed it as if it were natural.
And so it continued. Horizontal cut—blocked. Spinning kick—hit right shoulder. Quick thrust—dodged by centimeters. Front kick—hitting the solar plexus.
Blood was dripping from his shoulder. Cracked ribs pulsed constant pain. Breathing increasingly difficult.
'I can't continue like this,' Kael recognized with growing despair. 'She's going to drain me until I collapse completely if we continue like this.'
Her next attack was composed of the familiar combination: The sword descending in a high arc and a kick preparing low—
And at that moment he made a decision.
'I'M NOT GOING TO DEFEND THIS ATTACK!'
And the sound of his shield falling resonated.
Echidna's POV (fraction of a second):
Her crimson eyes widened imperceptibly.
'His eyes changed.'
And with her experience of hundreds of years of battles, she reached a conclusion.
'He's not going to defend... just to have an opening to attack me.'
However, she could only use defensive aura, stop his blow completely.
But...
'What would be the fun in that?!' She thought as a smile began to form on her face.
And the decision made in a millisecond:
'COME!'
Kael's POV:
SLASH!
The blade cut through the flesh of his left forearm. Not deep—bone resisted—but blood exploded instantly. Bright red gushing through the clean wound.
PAIN.
Pain that made vision darken at the edges. Pain that tore an involuntary scream from his lungs.
But he didn't stop.
With his right hand free—now without shield, without defense, only desperate rank B brute force—
CRACK!
Fist struck her wrist that held the sword.
Not refined technique. Not elegant strike.
PURE FORCE.
Her wrist, without aura fortification, didn't resist the brutal blow and the sword flew.
Spinning through the air in a bright arc before embedding itself in the ground five meters behind.
CLANG!
The sound echoed through the field like a bell of impossible victory.
For a fraction of a second—just a fraction—Kael felt triumph.
'I did it! Disarmed! Now we're—'
The thought died.
Because she wasn't retreating in alarm.
She wasn't evaluating the situation strategically.
She was smiling.
A smile that froze him to the soul.
"Impressive courage," she said calmly. "Few veterans would have the courage to do that. So I really have to say..."
Brief pause while observing blood dripping from his wound.
"You exceeded my expectations, but..."
And then a lightning chain moved toward Kael's neck.
"You forgot that I'm not alone."
And the lightning-chain whipped through the air.
WHOOSH!
The speed made everything seem slow in comparison. Metal and electricity fused, the whipping movement amplifying the natural speed, creating an attack faster than anything Kael had faced.
There was no time to think. Only to react.
'I'M GOING TO DIE!'
Panic.
Pure and uncontrollable panic born from accumulated injuries, deep exhaustion, and vision of imminent death approaching faster than reflexes could process.
AURA EXPLODED!
Not calculated defense. Not measured quantity. Not refined control of an experienced veteran.
EVERYTHING.
All available aura discharged at a single defensive point because the terrified mind screamed that anything less would be insufficient.
A barrier materialized around the neck—thick, dense, glowing intensely with bluish-white energy.
EXCESSIVE for the real attack.
CLANG!
The chain bounced back violently. Neck saved.
But then—
"STOP!"
Valdris's voice cut like thunder. Not loud. Not hysterical. But charged with ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY.
Everyone froze.
Valdris approached quickly—didn't run, but steps were urgent, measured, professional—and evaluated the situation instantly with the experienced eyes of a veteran.
Kael kneeling. Forearm bleeding profusely—not dripping, but constant flow that already formed a pool on the ground. Dislocated shoulder. Ribs clearly compromised by the way he breathed. Defensive aura still glowing faintly around his neck.
And blood. A lot of blood.
"Kael. Disqualified." she said quickly but clearly for everyone to hear.
Decision made in a millisecond. But then—
She turned immediately, voice changing from the authoritative tone of a teacher to that of a soldier:
"MEDICAL TEAM! NOW!"
Infirmary assistants—always present in practical classes—ran instantly.
"Severe injury to the left forearm with active hemorrhage. Approximately twenty percent loss of muscle tissue. Possible tendon damage. Cracked ribs. Fractured scapula. And exhaustion from aura consumption."
Precise clinical report while assistants were already working, applying a compress to the forearm wound and a tourniquet on the upper arm.
"Transport him immediately to the infirmary. Also alert a level 5 healer, because this injury requires accelerated regeneration."
Kael tried to speak. "I'm... fine..."
"Silence," Valdris ordered, but the tone wasn't cruel. It was medical. "Conserve energy. You've lost a lot of blood. Speak after you're stabilized."
And then, for the first time, she looked directly at the ThunderBird twins.
The expression was... complex. Not anger. Not accusation. But something heavy.
"You two. Remain after class."
Not a request, but an ORDER.
Then she turned to the entire class—observers in shocked silence—and said simply:
"Class dismissed. DISPERSE. Tomorrow we'll discuss the implications of what you witnessed today."
There were no long speeches. No elaborate educational lessons.
Just heavy silence.
And in the eyes of each observer, the same unformulated question:
'If they did this in class... what will they do in real combat?'
Fear. Fear of the future with these two monsters disguised as first-years.
— THREE HOURS LATER —
POV Dex and Echidna:
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon when Echidna and Dex finally returned to the dormitory.
The three hours between the end of class and now had been... intense.
But it was finally over.
The apartment door opened with a soft click. Dex entered first, followed by Echidna.
The apartment was silent. And the late afternoon light infiltrated through the corridor.
Echidna closed the door behind her, locking it and finally leaned against the wood for a brief moment, closing her eyes.
"Damn three hours," Dex murmured.
Echidna, opening her eyes, could only agree while looking at her uniform, which was stained with red. "I can't wait to clean the blood from my clothes and skin."
They then crossed the short corridor that connected the entrance to the main area of the apartment.
When they reached the opening that led to the kitchen, they saw her.
Erica. Sitting on a high stool in front of the kitchen counter, having already abandoned the student council clothing and replaced it with pajamas, reading glasses resting on her nose as she turned a page of a thick book with a worn leather cover.
Echidna stopped completely. Blinked. "Since when do you wear glasses?"
Erica slowly raised her eyes, removing the glasses and placing them on the counter.
"That. That's the first thing you say to me?"
Her voice wasn't loud. But loaded with something between frustration and... hurt.
"You could be a little more affectionate, don't you think?"
"For example, explain the reason why you appeared in the middle of my class..."
She then stood up and approached them.
Turning to Echidna. "...The brilliant reason for accepting the duel..."
"...And why not end the duel quickly with that final blow?" Now facing Dex.