The morning sea breeze swept across Duel Academy's harbor, stirring up sprays of faintly salty seawater.
Only half an hour remained before the Friendly Match against North Campus officially began.
A red carpet stretched from the boarding pontoon to the reception gates on the main pier, lined on both sides with school flags fluttering in the wind. More than a dozen heavy-duty broadcast camera cranes and high-definition holographic cameras had even been set up on-site.
With both hands tucked into the pockets of his Obelisk Blue uniform, Yūki stood beside Principal Samejima and Zane Truesdale and let out a lazy yawn.
"Yūki, did you not sleep well last night, non è?"
Clutching his trademark pink lace handkerchief, Professor Crowler wiped nonexistent cold sweat from his forehead while lingering apprehension drove him half a step sideways, quietly widening the distance between himself and Yūki.
"It's not that I didn't sleep well."
Yūki rubbed the corner of his eye, his expression even looking somewhat regretful.
"These past two weeks or so have just been so fulfilling. Suddenly getting half a day off actually has the Duel Disk on my wrist itching a little."
At the word "itching," the muscles in Crowler's cheeks twitched violently.
Heaven only knew what tragedies the Duel Academy faculty recovery lounge had witnessed over those past two weeks or so.
Ever since the academy's senior administration granted Yūki the privilege of "full exemption from theory classes, with advanced dueling instructors available as sparring partners around the clock," this freshman had turned into a human pile driver.
Most of the supposedly advanced sparring partners assigned by the academy were retired professionals from the Security Department or veteran practical combat instructors.
Their skills were neither outstanding nor by any means weak-at the very least, their fundamentals were far more solid