Arthur's fame as the "Lightning Bomber" spread quickly. While the commoner students looked at him with awe, the high-ranking noble students looked at him with disgust.
To them, Magic was an art form. It was poetry. It was a birthright. To Arthur, it was a utility bill.
The tension broke during lunch in the Grand Hall. Arthur and Zack were sitting at a table, dissecting a cafeteria sandwich ("Bread density is inconsistent," Arthur noted).
A shadow fell over their table.
It was Julian van Thorne. The son of the Arch-Mage. He had sleek blonde hair, a perfectly tailored uniform, and an expression that suggested he smelled something rotting.
"Pendelton," Julian sneered.
Arthur looked up. "Van Thorne. Your trajectory suggests you are blocking the sunlight. Is there a purpose?"
Julian slammed his hand on the table. "Stop playing the fool. That 'trick' with the jar? It was an insult to the Academy. You used a metal crutch because your mana control is weak."
Zack shrank into his seat, terrified. The Van Thornes were powerful. They could ruin a commoner's life with a snap.
"It wasn't a crutch," Arthur corrected, taking a bite of his sandwich. "It was a capacitor. And my mana control is optimal. I simply prefer burst damage."
"Burst damage?" Julian laughed. "You have no finesse. No lineage. I challenge you. A formal duel. Tomorrow. The Arena."
Arthur sighed. "I have a Calculus lecture tomorrow."
"Are you scared?" Julian smirked. "Or does your little toy not work against a real Mage?"
Arthur stopped chewing. He looked at Julian.
[Threat Assessment: Moderate.] [Observation: Opponent relies on 'Chanting' and 'Gestures'.] [Latency Analysis: High.]
"Fine," Arthur wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I accept. But if I win, you have to buy me a new sandwich. This one is dry."
Julian scoffed. "If you win? I'll buy you the whole kitchen. But when you lose, you destroy that glass jar and admit that Engineering is for peasants."
"Deal," Arthur said. "Prepare your insurance paperwork."
End of Chapter 23