Finally, they arrived at the combat arena, divided into four large platforms where third-year students trained intensely. Lusian noticed that each platform was occupied by a different class. Carla took the opportunity to explain:
—At the academy, classes are named according to year and strength —she said—. The number indicates the year: one for first-year, three for third-year. The letter A represents the best of the class, the strongest. So, a 3A is the elite group of third-year students, while 1B would be a first-year class still in development.
Lusian nodded, beginning to understand the hierarchy that would define much of his academic life from now on.
—This platform will be assigned to you —Carla continued—. You'll train here daily, and this is where ranking matches will take place. Each class has its own area, but if you want to practice with others, you can arrange it with your instructors.
As Lusian observed the surroundings, Kara—who had been watching him closely since they arrived—approached the 1A group with firm, deliberate steps.
—Welcome to the academy —she said, a mocking smile failing to soften the sharpness in her gaze—. As the instructor explained, you can ask me for guidance if you need it. And if anyone wants to train… feel free.
Kasper Bourlance frowned and stepped forward.
—Kara, it's the first day. There's no need to hurt anyone yet.
—Shut up, Kasper —she replied sharply—. Is no one willing to try their luck? Lusian, how about you?
Lusian looked up, surprised and confused.
—Me? But… I didn't… —he thought—. What did I even do to deserve this?
Kara crossed her arms, her expression both mocking and challenging.
—I didn't know the Douglas family had cowards. Then I challenge you to a ranking duel.
Lusian swallowed. The word "ranking" sounded like immediate danger.
—A ranking duel? What is that? —he asked, buying time while assessing his options.
Carla stepped in calmly, as if reading his thoughts.
—It's an evaluation system we use to measure the strength of all students, regardless of year. Ranking duels help identify the strongest and determine their position within the hierarchy. They test skill, strategy, and endurance. It's not just a fight—it's a way to see who truly stands out.
She continued with a composed smile:
—This system was originally designed for upperclassmen, but first-years can participate as well. Being among the top fifteen in the academy is an honor. Do your best, Lusian.
Lusian ran a hand through his hair. How did I end up in this when I didn't even do anything? Still, he accepted.
—Alright… tell me the rules.
Instructor Enzo Kesller, tall and broad with a calculating gaze, stepped forward:
—No magical artifacts. All abilities must be your own.
—Your uniforms have a level-five defensive enchantment; no additional protection.
—This is not a fight to the death. Only fractures and minor injuries are allowed.
—You will use academy-issued weapons—no edges, no enhancements.
—And Lusian, your magical beast will not participate.
Kara smirked.
—Don't cry just because you can't use your pet.
Lusian met her gaze, steady.
—I can fight without Umber.
Class 1A emptied as students gathered along balconies and corridors to watch. Among the most attentive were Andrew and Alejandro, recalling their past fights against Kara and the damage she had inflicted. The tension was clear—no one expected an easy match.
After a final safety inspection from Carla, Lusian and Kara took their positions at the center of the platform, surrounded by expectant eyes. Enzo gave the signal.
The battle began.
Kara moved first. Fast, precise—aiming straight for Lusian's head. He barely reacted in time, deflecting the strike by mere millimeters. Internally, he thanked Albert for his brutal training. Without it, he would have gone down in the first exchange.
Without hesitation, Lusian launched a series of dark mana spells—spears and glowing orbs cutting through the air with speed and precision. Kara blocked every single one with flawless control, proving she didn't rely on tricks or magic to dominate.
I can't let her create distance, Lusian thought. Her attacks become devastating with momentum. I need to stay close.
Kara began to realize Lusian wasn't a novice. His movements were fluid, calculated—his blend of swordplay and magic showed advanced training.
He's more dangerous than I thought.
At the same time, Lusian noticed something.
Kara wasn't as unpredictable as in the "game."
Still formidable—but readable.
The fight escalated. Kara unleashed a wide-area attack that would have overwhelmed most students, but Lusian held his ground—blocking, redirecting, absorbing each strike with precision. Eventually, she forced him back just enough to create distance, preparing her strongest attack.
Lusian reacted instantly.
He cast a distraction spell—a sphere that exploded in front of her, stunning her for a split second. He moved without hesitation, executing the counter technique Albert had drilled into him: raising his blade as hers descended, redirecting the force—
—and breaking her weapon on impact.
In the opening that followed, Lusian struck with the pommel of his sword, knocking her unconscious.
Silence fell over the arena.
—Lusian wins! —Enzo घोषित, voice firm—. The ranking duel is over.
Caleb, Lusian's older half-brother and heir to the duchy, watched with a mix of shock and unease. Seeing his younger brother defeat Kara so easily made him question his own superiority. He remembered his own loss vividly—broken bones, three days bedridden. Lusian's victory was a direct blow to his pride.
Jean Mondring, from class 2A and Albert's niece, immediately recognized the techniques Lusian used. They were unmistakably her uncle's. She felt a mix of sympathy and admiration, knowing firsthand how harsh that training was.
From the third-floor balcony, Elizabeth watched with a faint smile. Every movement Lusian made showed focus, control, and talent. He hadn't reached 1A by chance.
Magnus Bourlance, meanwhile, observed his niece's defeat without anger. If anything, he saw it as necessary. A lesson. A step toward growth.
Lusian stepped down from the platform, his right hand still trembling from the impact of Kara's strike. If it had landed cleanly, he would have been seriously injured. Every muscle in his body remained tense, a reminder of how thin the line was between victory and defeat.
Emily approached, concern clear in her expression.
—Are you okay? —she asked quietly.
—That was close —Lusian replied, taking a deep breath—. One mistake and I would've lost.
Emily tried to lighten the mood.
—I heard Kara usually breaks bones during training.
—Her strength is insane —Lusian said, clenching his fists as adrenaline still surged through him—. I'd rather not fight her again.
—I understand —Emily said softly, though her eyes showed both respect and unease.
Lusian looked at her, frustrated.
—Why does she hate me so much?
Emily hesitated before answering.
—A lot of people were upset about you using magical beasts to win the hunting tournament. The Bourlance family had been chasing that victory for years. You broke that expectation.
Lusian nodded slowly. It made sense. Pride, resentment, competition.
Now Kara's hostility felt less irrational.
Carla resumed the tour as if nothing had happened, her calm smile hinting that this year's competition would be intense.
Eventually, they reached the academy ranking board.
—Having your name here is the highest honor —Carla said, gesturing toward the names engraved in gold—. It represents not just strength, but reputation.
Lusian stepped closer.
Kara's name was there—third place.
Now, after his victory, his name had taken that spot.
Third strongest in the academy.
A position that came with responsibility.
Caleb watched from a distance, silent, conflicted. For the first time, Lusian's presence felt like a real threat—not just within the academy, but within the family itself.
Lusian frowned slightly.
—Do I really have to accept every challenge? —he asked.
—Yes —Carla replied firmly—. That's the responsibility of the strongest.
Lusian nodded.
Every victory now meant something more.
Not just rank.
But power.
And consequences.