Franklin's voice cut through the tension.n"It is him," he said again, firmer this time.
Theo's head snapped toward him. "What?" Theo whispered.
Then he burst into laughter. The sound echoed too loudly in the room. "Are you crazy?" Theo said, shaking his head. "Why would you think that good-for-nothing weakling is the assassin?"
A few of the boys chuckled behind him..For a brief second, the pressure in the arena shifted.
Newton and Samuel exchanged the smallest glance. Hope flickered in their eyes. Maybe it would pass.
Maybe Theo will never believe it.
But Franklin didn't move. He stood his ground. "I know what I am talking about," he said slowly. "I saw the cut in his shoulders."
The arena went quiet again. Theo's laughter died instantly..His heart thudded once. Hard.
Then again. He turned his head slowly. His eyes found Newton. His finger lifted. "You," Theo said.
The word came out sharp. "Take off your shirt." Newton's fist clenched at his side.
Inside, something settled. "I have been made out," he told himself. A strange calm followed. "I guess it is my time to die."
Theo stepped closer. One step. Then another. Newton didn't move. His eyes locked onto Theo's.
His heartbeat slammed against his chest. Loud, and heavy. But his face remained still.
Then, blue glow flickered in front of his eyes.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION.
YOU HAVE RECEIVED ONE CPD POINT.
YOU NOW HAVE FIFTEEN CPD POINT.
YOU MAY LEVEL UP TO LEVEL TWO.
For a fraction of a second, everything else faded.
Newton's eyes shifted slightly.
Past Theo. Past the crowd. Toward the back. The level two entrance door.
Standing there.
Silent, and waiting.
A thought formed instantly. "If I can fight my way there, I will level up and escape."
Theo's voice snapped him back. "Take off that shirt, Newton." The command came harsher now.
Newton inhaled slowly. Then he stood. His fingers reached for the edge of his shirt.
He pulled it over his head. The cloth dropped to the floor. The room froze. Theo's eyes fell immediately on the wound. The deep cut across Newton's shoulder.
Still fresh. Still raw.
Theo staggered back slightly. His breath hitched. "You."
The word barely came out. "You are the mysterious killer?" Newton didn't answer immediately. There was no point hiding anymore.
The silence stretched.
Then, a smile spread across his face.
Calm, and cold. "Yeah," Newton said. His voice carried no hesitation
"I killed Brian and William." He tilted his head slightly. "What can you do about it?"
Theo took another step back. The confidence in Newton's voice unsettled him. "I never suspected you for once," Theo said.
His voice shook slightly. "You killed my friend." His fists clenched. "You killed the king."
Newton chuckled. A low, dry sound. "He killed Stella," Newton said. His eyes hardened. "He deserved his death."
Theo's body stiffened. His anger surged instantly. His fists tightened until the veins stood out.
He turned sharply to his men. "Attack and bring that loser to his knees."
The boys shifted forward. Swords ready. But before they could move. "No."
Samuel stepped forward. His voice cut clean through the room. All eyes turned to him. "It is high time we settle our grievances like men," Samuel said.
He looked directly at Theo.
"If you have a problem with him, then both of you should settle it in the arena."
A pause.
"Man against man."
The room held its breath.
Students slowly began stepping back.
Giving space.
Forming a loose circle.
All eyes returned to Theo.
He stared at Samuel.
Then at Newton.
A faint scoff escaped him.
"Why should I fight someone as weak as Newton?" Theo said.
He spread his arms slightly.
"He is a waste of my time."
Newton's smile widened.
Just a little.
"You won't fight me because you are scared of me," Newton said calmly.
The words landed hard.
"And that makes you a coward."
A pause.
"Someone who is not fit to be king."
A ripple moved through the students.
Theo felt it immediately.
His body trembled slightly.
His eyes darted around.
Everyone was watching him now.
Waiting.
Judging.
"If I do not fight him now," Theo thought, "they will consider me a weakling."
His jaw tightened.
"And they might never respect me again."
His eyes returned to Newton.
That calm.
That confidence.
It unsettled him.
"This boy might be more dangerous than I perceive," Theo thought.
"He is a killer now."
A brief doubt flickered.
"Could he really defeat me?"
The thought lingered. Then, two swords clanged onto the arena floor.
The sharp metallic sound cut through everything.
Heads turned.
Rebecca stood there.
Her arms lowered after the throw.
Her eyes fixed on Theo.
"You think he behaved wrong by killing Brian," she said, "then fight him."
Theo snapped instantly.
"You do not get to make decisions," he barked. "I am the king here."
Rebecca nodded slightly.
"Sure," she said.
Her voice remained steady.
"But it is time for you to earn your crown."
The words spread like fire.
Before Theo could respond, the chants began.
"Fight!"
"Fight!"
"Fight!"
Voices rose louder.
Stronger.
The arena filled with energy.
Students moved closer.
The circle tightened.
Theo bit his lip.
His chest rose sharply.
Then he exhaled.
"Alright," he said.
His voice steadied again.
"I will do him the honour of dying by my hand in combat."
The arena erupted.
Excitement surged through the crowd.
Newton stepped forward.
He bent down and picked up one of the swords.
The metal felt familiar in his hand.
Theo stepped forward and grabbed the other.
They straightened.
Facing each other.
The noise around them faded.
Their eyes locked.
Neither blinked.
Neither moved.
Rebecca's voice rang out.
"GET READY!"
Theo adjusted his grip slightly.
His stance firm.
Confident.
Newton lowered his sword just a little.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes never left Theo.
"FIGHT!"
Theo lunged.
Fast.
His blade cut through the air.
Newton moved instantly.
Their swords crashed together.
The sound echoed across the arena.
Steel rang against steel.
Theo came in hard.
No hesitation. No testing. Just force.
His blade slammed into Newton's, driving him back a full step. The impact shuddered through Newton's arms, right into his wounded shoulder. Pain flared. Sharp. Blinding for a second.
Theo didn't give him space to breathe.
Another strike came. Heavy. Direct.
Newton twisted sideways, barely deflecting it. The edge skimmed past his ribs. Too close.
Theo pressed forward again.
He fought like a hammer.
Every swing carried weight. Every movement demanded submission.
"You think you can stand against me?" Theo snarled, bringing his sword down in a brutal arc.
Newton caught it.
But his knees bent under the force.
The ground scraped beneath his boots.
Strength.
That was Theo's game.
Raw. Relentless. Overwhelming.
Newton exhaled slowly.
Then he moved.
Theo struck again.
Newton didn't block this time.
He slipped.
A small shift of his body. A turn of his wrist.
Theo's blade cut through empty air.
Newton stepped inside his guard. Fast, and precise.
His sword flicked out.
A shallow cut across Theo's side.
Theo hissed and staggered back.
The crowd reacted instantly.
A murmur. Sharp. Uneasy.
Theo's eyes darkened.
"You…!" he growled.
He charged again.
Faster now.
Angrier.
His strikes came wild but powerful. Each one aimed to break, to crush, to end.
Newton gave ground.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Dodging. Redirecting. Letting the force pass him instead of meeting it head-on.
Theo swung low.
Newton jumped back.
Theo spun, bringing the blade across.
Newton leaned just enough.
The tip sliced through his sleeve.
Close.
Too close.
But Newton's eyes remained calm.
Watching.
Reading.
Waiting.
Theo roared and lifted his sword high, pouring everything into the next strike.
It came down like a falling wall.
Newton met it, then turned. Not resisting. But redirecting.
Theo's strength carried him forward.
Just a little too far.
That was all Newton needed.
He stepped in.
Inside again.
His blade moved.
Not wide. Not dramatic.
Just clean.
A single, controlled thrust.
Straight into Theo's chest.
Silence.
Theo froze.
His eyes widened.
His grip loosened.
The sword slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a dull clang.
Newton stood close.
Too close.
Their eyes met one last time.
Theo's lips parted, but no words came out.
Only a weak breath. Newton pulled the blade free. Theo collapsed.
The thud echoed louder than the fight itself. For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke.
Fear spread quietly.
Like cold water seeping into every corner of the arena. The boy they called weak had just killed the king.
Newton didn't look at the body again.
He turned.
Samuel was already watching him.
No words passed between them.
None were needed.
They stepped forward.
Together.
And began walking.
The crowd parted instantly.
No one dared stand in their way.
The air felt heavier now.
Colder.
Newton's grip tightened slightly on the sword as they moved toward the level two entrance.
Behind them, no cheers. No whispers. Just silence.