Remontada - II

Three days remained until Matchday Two on the seventh.

The Orlean House had become a secluded fortress of preparation. They skipped classes. Avoided curious stares. Refused to mingle. Everything revolved around the next match.

Cassandra was seeing hope now — glimmers of it, at least. Yet the weight of disparity was still heavy. The difference in numbers hadn't changed as she couldn't recruit. But she had this — a brief, rare tactical advantage — and was determined to wring it for everything it was worth. She trained harder than ever before, refusing to waste even a breath.

In the demo room, amidst the flickering illusion of wind and waves, Serena stood beside Liam. He was steering the projection of their pirate ship, eyes fixed forward, movements unnervingly precise.

Unlike the others, Liam didn't show, or rather had no fatigue.

Serena broke the silence.

"Why did you ask me to call you last night?" she asked, arms crossed, her tone flat. "You said nothing. Just walked off. We could've pretended to stroll after dinner like usual. Why go back to the dorms and rush through the guards?"

Liam didn't look at her. "I had to meet someone."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, you told me. But that doesn't answer my question."

"I met with Rion."

He said it simply — a soft, casual statement — as he turned the ship hard to the left. The sails of the illusion rippled with magic as the vessel curved sharply through the simulation space.

Serena blinked. "You're out of your mind."

Still no eye contact.

"Why would you meet with our opponents?" she demanded. "And you still haven't answered the question. I don't like this."

Liam turned the ship again. "You don't like what?"

"You're lying to me," she snapped. "You had nothing important to suggest. You made me argue with the gatekeeper for no reason. I was embarrassed."

Liam exhaled, eyes still forward. "I thought I'd have something figured out. I'd been analyzing the projection, then planned to meet Rion… and then you. But nothing came of it. Nothing useful."

He paused, fingers tightening on the illusory wheel.

"Well. I'm still an… You know. How can I analyze people above my realm?"

"You're hiding something," she said.

Liam smiled slightly — a tired, unreadable smile — and shook his head. "No, I'm not. But I'll tell you something."

Finally, he turned to her.

"Rion is exactly what I expect him to be."

Serena studied his face. "So? Why meet with him?"

"He extended a hand in friendship," Liam said, voice steady. "Should I not reciprocate?"

This time, his attention was fully on her.

Serena frowned. "Whatever. I'm telling Senior Cassandra. If anything goes wrong, I'm not going to be your accomplice."

"Wait," Liam said.

But she was already walking away.

"Nothing will go wrong," he muttered under his breath.

Cassandra didn't waste a moment. The instant Serena whispered the news to her, she stormed across the training hall with fire in her eyes, stopping right in front of Liam.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Her voice was sharp — restrained only by the thin thread of royalty.

"Sister, listen to me — "

"Listen to what?" she cut him off. "Why were you meeting with him in the first place?"

Liam looked around. Theo, James, William, Elaine, and Evaline were all watching — brows raised, attention piqued.

"Let's talk in private," he said quietly.

Cassandra grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the far corner of the room. With a flick of her fingers, a pale translucent dome shimmered into existence — a privacy barrier.

"Tell me," she demanded. "What were you talking about?"

Liam didn't resist. "I went to negotiate."

Her expression tightened. "What kind of negotiation?"

"I asked him…" Liam took a breath. "I asked Rion if he'd consider losing the match."

Cassandra's hand rose before she even knew it — a slap forming from sheer instinct. Liam flinched and ducked on reflex, but the strike never landed.

Her hand trembled in mid-air, frozen. Her eyes, however, weren't angry anymore.

They were glistening.

"I'm disappointed in you, Liam," she whispered.

Liam stood straight, confused. "But why? We could win the match. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She didn't answer. Didn't argue. She simply let the barrier fall and walked out of the room, shoulders shaking faintly.

Theo was the first to reach Liam.

"Don't go after her," he said firmly — and cast a barrier of his own around them before Liam could move.

"What have you done?"

Liam told him.

Theo's voice lowered, weighted with something like restrained rage. "You have no idea what you did… do you?"

He took a step closer.

"Cassandra trusts you more than anyone here. I don't know why — maybe because you're her brother, maybe because she wants to believe in something again. She's a princess, yes, but she's also someone who's fought her way through every damn year in this institute without asking for shortcuts."

Theo shook his head.

"She could've cheated. She never did. And — you went behind her back and tried to buy her first real win?"

Liam couldn't answer. Not because he didn't want to — but because everything Theo said hit too hard and too fast.

"I don't understand what's so good about you," Theo added coldly. "A First Blaze Apprentice… and you're formulating our battle plans? I told her — I told her you were just a child playing hero."

He withdrew the barrier.

Then, without another word, Theo turned and walked out — leaving Liam alone with silence closing in around him.

Soon, the news spread to the rest of the team. One by one, they left — James first, then Serena, followed by Evaline and William. Even Theo didn't return after chasing Cassandra.

Only Elaine remained.

She stood beside Liam in the now quiet training hall, arms folded, expression unreadable.

"I told you yesterday not to do it," she said calmly. "You should've just told her about your plan. Maybe she would've understood."

Liam let out a hollow laugh. "You say that after seeing all that?"

Elaine didn't respond.

"So?" she asked after a moment, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "How did the negotiations go?"

"I think I got him hooked," Liam said, eyes on the polished floor beneath him.

"You sure?"

"I'm positive."

Elaine looked at him closely, her gaze softer than her tone.

"Only you can help us win now, sister," he said quietly. "I see no way around. It was the only thing I could think of."

She hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll try my best, Liam."

And with that, she turned and walked away — leaving him alone.

Liam remained in the demo room for the rest of the day. 

He sat cross-legged in the center of the room, eyes closed, focused on Mana Breathing — as if nothing had happened.

Mana pulsed gently beneath his skin. 

Then, in the silence of the empty hall — it happened.

Liam's mana surged.

The mana pulse thickened, the energy resonating through the stone floor. His breath steadied, but the mana flame within him roared. His mana heart — long tempered, long strained — blazed.

A tremor pulsed from him as the epicenter, and his mana flame burst higher.

He broke through — Fifth Blaze. Apprentice. 

He exhaled slowly.

"Still not strong enough to not rely on underhanded tactics," he muttered to himself, voice low, eyes distant. The words stung with honesty. He had ascended twice after he broke through the third blaze — but it didn't feel like enough.

Not yet.

In the last two months, Liam had worked relentlessly — quietly, invisibly.

To the others, he had looked composed, calm, and almost detached during the training sessions. But in truth, he was straining himself beyond his limit. While they rested, he pushed. When they slept, he studied.

Every missed class, every skipped lecture — he made up for it with long hours, burning through Echovault recordings until his vision blurred.

His body didn't show it. But Liam had exhausted himself on a different dimension — deeper, quieter, lonelier.

And still — no revelation.

No new spell. No technique. Nothing beyond was revealed.

With a sigh, he stood again.

"One more," he whispered.

He stepped into a fresh stance. Lightning flickered at his fingertips. At first, it crackled faintly, then surged — wrapping around his arms like snapping whips of white-blue flame. His eyes narrowed.

Elemental lightning.

He locked the room, activated a few runes, and the simulation adjusted. Dummies appeared from beneath the floor, sparked with life. He struck — fast, precise, brutal. Every motion channeled arcs of elemental power, each movement cleaner than the last. 

By the time he stopped, the air around him sizzled faintly, scorched with static.

His hair clung slightly to his temple. His fingers trembled with the aftershock of intensity.

Liam stood there, breathing heavily.

He seemed like a different person.

'Still a long way to go', he thought to himself.

It was evening.

Liam stepped into the cantina, scanning briefly — and there she was. Serena, waiting at their usual corner table, arms folded, chin resting on one hand. She didn't look at him as he approached.

He sat. Ordered without much thought.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then finally — softly — she did.

"I'm sorry," Serena murmured, barely louder than the rustle of her sleeve as she adjusted her posture.

Liam turned to her, expression calm.

"Don't be," he said. "If that was my sister's response… then you did what you had to do."

Serena blinked. "But why did you do it?" she asked. "It's unlike you."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You know me that well?"

"I mean…" she hesitated, cheeks faintly tinged with color, "you've never used underhanded methods before. Not in class. Not in training simulations. You always try to stay above that."

"True," Liam admitted, tracing a line across the table's edge with his finger. "But I thought it was necessary this time."

Serena's eyes searched his face, watching for something — guilt, doubt, anything. But he just looked tired.

"Liam," she said quietly, "what will happen tomorrow? I mean… are we even a team anymore?"

"I've asked sister Elaine to handle it," he replied. "The schedule stays the same. We'll resume training in the morning."

She looked down. "Do you think Rion will go along with your 'negotiation'?"

He didn't answer immediately.

"Maybe. Maybe he won't. But that's fine."

He looked up at her, gaze steady.

Then, in a low voice, almost a whisper, he said, "We can still play fair."

*

The Dreamvault's lens hovered mid-air, sweeping gently across the training room. Magic clashed. Dust stirred. Voices called out corrections and counters.

But beneath the rhythm of spells and formations, there was something else—something colder.

A quiet, uneasy stillness pressed around Liam like fog.

The training continued, yes — rigorous and precise — but no one looked at Liam. Not directly. Not warmly. The words exchanged were curt. Observations came with clipped tones, as if each sentence was a concession.

Only Serena and Elaine spared him any measure of their usual grace.

Elaine, though, had been injured earlier that day — a mistimed spell collision during her final sequence. Clerics from the main infirmary had rushed to assist.

"She'll recover in two days," they'd said. "No more movement until then."

So Elaine remained in the corner, seated on a cushion, focusing solely on her mana breathing exercises — quiet and determined.

The rest trained hard. Harder than before. They recorded, watched the Dreamvault projection, corrected mistakes, and trained again.

And Liam?

Liam sat where he always did — in the back, one hand resting on the edge of his simulation steer. The pirate ship drifted in illusion, navigating tides, turning slowly under his fingers.

His only role, it seemed.

Not once did he protest the isolation. Not once did he defend himself.

The matchday drew to a close.

One by one, the group dispersed, heading out for the evening meal. Liam walked with Serena in silence.

Just before they turned the corner, Cassandra stepped into their path.

She didn't raise her voice.

"I hope," she said, her eyes fixed on Liam, "you're not still inclined to that idea of yours."

Then, without waiting for a reply, she walked past them, her cloak brushing against Liam's arm like cold wind.

Serena looked at Liam. He said nothing.

Later, after dinner, the two wandered through the familiar cobbled paths — their usual evening stroll, though quieter now, heavier somehow.

When they reached the gates of the girls' dormitory, Serena finally spoke.

"Liam," she said, her voice low but clear, "has Rion denied your proposition?"

Liam stood still.

"No," he said after a moment. "Unfortunately… he has agreed."

Her brows lifted slightly.

"We will win tomorrow," he added, meeting her gaze, "by a winning margin."

She didn't reply. Didn't nod. Didn't speak.

Just looked at him for a long moment… then turned and walked through the gate.

He stood there in the lamplight, unmoving.

"Goodnight, Miss Serena," he said gently.

But the door had already closed behind her.