Mel's heart was in her throat. She saw Aphelios's blade brush past her younger brother's clothes several times, while Yavi's counterattacks repeatedly forced his opponent to change moves in haste. Fine beads of sweat formed on both their foreheads, but the fighting spirit in their eyes only burned fiercer.
Aphelios suddenly unleashed a dazzling combination of sword techniques-Rose Triple Thrust. The first strike went straight for the throat; once blocked, it immediately became a second strike sweeping across the waist and abdomen. When that was blocked as well, it strangely transformed into a third strike chopping down at the knee. Yavi retreated three steps in succession, finally finding an opening on the third strike. His wooden sword shot out like a venomous snake from an unbelievable angle, aimed straight at Aphelios's sword wrist.
Crack!
With a sharp crack, Aphelios took a heavy blow to the wrist. But he endured the pain and used the momentum to spin his body, delivering a beautiful spinning kick. Yavi hastily blocked, but the force of the kick drove him back several steps, opening up the distance between them once more.
On the dueling platform, the two figures seemed both illusory and real. Aphelios's silver-white swordsmanship school uniform was soaked with sweat, his chest heaving violently, every breath feeling as though fire were burning him. His sword hand began to tremble slightly. Sweat dripped from his chin onto the wooden floor with faint pattering sounds.
Yavi, by contrast, still stood straight, with only a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. His breathing was so steady that he might have just taken a stroll. Those ice-blue eyes watched Aphelios calmly, as though silently assessing his condition.
"I didn't expect... you to have some skill." Aphelios spoke for the first time, his voice slightly hoarse from panting.
Yavi did not answer, merely adjusting his grip on his sword slightly. His blue eyes were as cold as ice in the sunlight, his attention wholly focused on every minute movement his opponent made.
Damn it, this guy's stamina... how can it be so good?
Alarm bells rang in Aphelios's mind. He had thought his refined swordsmanship would let him quickly overwhelm Yavi, but he had never expected his opponent's endurance to be so terrifying. Every time they clashed, Yavi's defense was airtight, while his counterattacks grew increasingly precise, as though he were deliberately wearing down Aphelios's stamina.
I can't drag this out any longer!
Aphelios gritted his teeth, enduring the ache in his muscles, and abruptly lunged forward. His blade traced a fierce arc, thrusting straight at Yavi's chest-one of his signature techniques, Silver Light Thrust.
However, Yavi reacted even faster than he did.
He shifted his body slightly aside, blocking with the smallest possible movement of his wooden sword. Then he turned his wrist, and his sword tip darted like lightning toward Aphelios's elbow joint.
Crack!
"Ugh-!" Aphelios grunted, his entire arm instantly going numb, the wooden sword nearly slipping from his grasp. He staggered backward, his breathing completely losing its rhythm. Sweat slid from his forehead into his eyes, blurring his vision.
Yet Yavi remained where he stood, without the slightest disruption to his breathing. He tilted his head slightly, his voice so calm it was almost cold:
"Do you want to continue?"
Aphelios's heart sank.
His knuckles whitened with strain, and the wooden sword creaked in his grip. His gaze stayed fixed on Yavi, unwillingness and frustration churning in his chest-he had clearly given everything he had, yet the person before him was like an immovable mountain. No matter how he attacked, he could not shake him in the slightest.
Why... why can't I win?!
His lips pressed into a taut line, veins faintly throbbing at his temples, the struggle in his eyes almost spilling over. But reality lay cruelly before him-his stamina was long since exhausted, while Yavi's breathing had not even faltered. Fighting on would only humiliate him.
At last, he slowly lowered his wooden sword, the voice forced from his throat hoarse and strained. "I concede..."
The entire great hall fell deathly silent, as though even the air had frozen.
The next second-
"Roooar-!!!"
Deafening cheers erupted from the Popular Election Faction's seats, the waves of sound nearly lifting the dome. Students leaped up in excitement, waving their arms, thunderous applause sweeping through the hall. Countless people shouted Yavi's name, their voices rising higher with each wave, as though to push him to the pinnacle of glory.
"Yavi! Yavi! Yavi!"
Amid the cheers, Vivian's expression turned frighteningly dark. Her nails dug deep into her palms, her gaze fixed on Yavi as he stood onstage at the center of everyone's attention, cold fury surging in her eyes. Finally, she abruptly rose and headed toward the hall's side door without looking back, her retreating figure stiff and resolute.
Aphelios watched her leave, a bitter curve tugging at his lips. He silently put away his wooden sword and slipped out amid the earthshaking cheers, following Vivian with heavy steps.
Onstage, Yavi merely stood quietly. Facing the overwhelming acclaim, his expression remained as indifferent as before.
Just as Vivian's fingertips were about to touch the door handle, a languid yet clear, cool voice drifted down from the second-floor gallery.
"Vivian, are you leaving just like that? Won't you try a little harder?"
Loriess's voice was not loud, yet it strangely pierced through the clamor of the entire hall, reaching everyone's ears clearly. She absently twirled the ends of her hair around her fingertips, a faint smile playing at her lips, though her gaze was sharp as a blade.
The hall abruptly quieted, even the cheers stopping short as though cut off. Everyone turned in unison toward the second floor-Loriess was leaning against the carved railing, swirling a glass of red wine in her hand.
Vivian's back suddenly stiffened. She slowly turned, raising eyes filled with confusion. "Headmistress Loriess, what do you mean?"
Loriess chuckled. "Hill, you took her money. Surely you ought to do something for it?" She tilted her head, but her gaze pierced straight toward Yavi. "I propose-one additional match. Yavi against Hill. If Yavi wins, the Popular Election Faction will go from a tie that counts as a victory to leading the Royal Election Faction by one point. If Hill wins..." She drew out her words. "We'll act as though you never lost today. How about that?"
Whispers instantly erupted throughout the hall. The Popular Election Faction's students' expressions changed drastically, while a stir ran through the Royal Election Faction.
Mel shot to her feet and slammed both hands onto the table before her with a dull bang. "Headmistress Loriess!" Her voice trembled slightly with anger. "Didn't the academy promise not to interfere in the competition between our two factions? Aren't you showing far too much favoritism toward the Royal Election Faction now?"
Her words were like a spark, instantly igniting the anger of the Popular Election Faction's students. Protests erupted throughout their section:
"This isn't fair!"
"Headmistress, you can't do this!"
"We reject this proposal!"
Loriess unhurriedly sipped her red wine, the crimson liquid leaving a bewitching trace on her lips. She gently set down her glass, its metal base meeting the marble railing with a clear clink.
"It seems your Popular Election Faction broke the rules first." Her voice still carried a smile, yet it made the temperature of the entire hall plummet. "Yavi Morgan-is he really a member of your Popular Election Faction?"
Mel's pupils abruptly contracted.
"A newly enrolled freshman isn't even qualified to join the student council yet." Loriess tapped the railing lightly with her fingertips. "The only reason he's standing here winning for you today is-" Her gaze turned toward Mel. "He's your younger brother. Without that connection, Vivian's plan today would probably have dealt your Popular Election Faction an unimaginable blow. Am I right, Mel?"
Mel's face instantly turned deathly pale. Her lips trembled slightly, but she could not refute it-because every word Loriess had spoken was true.
"I..." Mel began with difficulty. "My brother has already fought five matches in a row today. He's expended an enormous amount of stamina. If there has to be another match, could it be rescheduled..."
"Oh?" Loriess raised an eyebrow, looking toward Yavi, who still stood perfectly straight onstage. "But look at your brother now-" Her voice carried a hint of mockery. "Steady breathing, barely even sweating. Does that look like someone who's exhausted?"
Everyone's gaze turned toward Yavi in unison. Indeed, the blond boy still maintained perfect posture. There was not a trace of fatigue in those ice-blue eyes; instead, they gleamed with a dangerous light.
Mel opened her mouth, only to find she had nothing to say. She looked toward Yavi as though seeking help, but saw her younger brother shake his head slightly at her, signaling that she need not argue further.