Making a Scene

Ved's next class was Magic Theory, a course mandatory for top 50 high-ranking students. There was still time before it start. With some time to spare before it began, Ved decided to take a stroll through the academy.

Outside, a few students whispered in hushed tones as he passed by.

"Did you hear? Someone from the top 30 challenged him, but he ignored it."

"Tch, what a waste. I wanted to see a fight."

"Maybe he thinks we are too weak to bother with."

Ved didn't acknowledge them. He had already received several challenges since arriving at the academy, most from students who sought prestige by defeating him. He hadn't accepted a single one.

They weren't worth his time.

He had one goal here to become stronger. And for that, meaningless duels were nothing but distractions.

As he walked he got a notification from his academy bracelet, Ved's presence was requested at one of the academy's sparring arenas. By a student.

Ved paused in his tracks, murmuring to himself, "Maybe I should make a scene."

Kieran, stood at the center of the ring. He was known for being a troublemaker, despite not even being in the top 50.

"I heard you've been avoiding duels," Kieran said, his tone amused. "But you seem to have accepted this, do you think I'm easy?"

Ved stepped onto the platform.

"Let's get this over with." he said flatly. 

The other students gathered to watch, sensing something significant about to happen.

Kieran smirked. "Then let's see if you can live up to all the rumors."

Ved's grip tightened on his sword. His magic flared—cold, ruthless, unyielding.

"Let them see. Let them learn." Ved murmuring to himself.

The sparring arena was surrounded by students eager to witness the duel. Some came for entertainment, others to measure Ved's strength firsthand. Either way, all eyes were on him.

Kieran stood across from him, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a warm-up rather than a serious fight.

"Let's keep it simple," Kieran said, adjusting his stance. "No lethal blows, no permanent injuries. The duel ends when one of us is unable to continue."

Ved didn't respond. He merely took his stance, sword in hand, his expression cold and unreadable.

A student in the crowd took it upon themselves to act as a referee. "Begin!"

The moment the word was spoken, Kieran dashed forward, his hand crackling with condensed mana.

A feint—his real attack would come from the side.

Ved didn't fall for it.

In a fluid motion, he sidestepped just as Kieran's fist, coated in raw energy, struck where he had been a split second ago. The impact left a deep dent in the ground.

The onlookers gasped.

Kieran wasted no time, twisting his body mid-motion and swinging his other arm in a swift arc. This time, a thin blade of wind magic lashed out, aimed directly at Ved's side.

Ved didn't dodge.

He raised his sword, coating it with an almost transparent layer of mana. The wind attack dissipated against it as if sliced into nothingness.

Kieran's eyes sharpened. "Good."

Without hesitation, he pressed forward, his fists a flurry of magic-infused strikes. Each hit could shatter stone, yet Ved blocked them all with minimal effort, barely moving his feet.

The crowd murmured.

"This guy… he's completely unfazed."

"Kieran's strong, but Ved is just standing there."

"Is he holding back?"

Ved was measuring. Kieran's movements were practiced, his mana control refined, but it was nothing special. Nothing compared to what Ved had faced before.

Kieran grinned, sensing the lack of urgency in Ved's movements. "You're not even trying, are you?"

Ved's voice was devoid of emotion. "You're not worth trying against."

The moment the words left his lips, he moved.

A single step.

It was all it took.

One second, Kieran was in control, dictating the fight's flow. The next, Ved was in his space, sword pressed lightly against his neck.

Silence. 

No one had seen the transition.

Kieran's grin faltered. He stood frozen, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he processed what had just happened.

"Checkmate," Ved said, his voice as cold as the steel against his throat.

Kieran exhaled slowly, then chuckled. "I see. So this is the difference."

He raised his hands in surrender.

"The match is over," the student referee announced, though it was unnecessary. Everyone had already understood.

Ved withdrew his sword and stepped back without another glance at his opponent. He had nothing else to gain from this.

Ved walked away from the sparring arena, his steps measured, unhurried. The whispers of the students followed him, but they were nothing more than background noise. He neither acknowledged nor dismissed them.

To him, they were irrelevant.

Kieran remained standing in the center of the arena, rubbing his neck where Ved's sword had been. He watched Ved's back disappear into the academy corridors, his expression unreadable.

The students, on the other hand, were restless.

"Did he really just end the fight with a single move?"

"Ain't Kieran from Class B he should be in the top 100 ranked students … and he lost in an instant."

"He didn't even try."

Some voices were filled with admiration, others with unease. But Ved cared for neither.

Ved ignored them all.

As Ved disappeared into the crowd, a brooding sense of defeat and realization settled over Kieran. The fight had been too easy. With a scowl, he headed towards a secluded corner of the academy .

In the dim light of the old library, Kieran found Varys Atlas, who was casually flipping through a book as if he hadn't just orchestrated a public humiliation. Varys looked up, his smile as cunning as a fox.

"Well, Kieran, how did our little performance play out?" Varys asked, his voice calm, almost patronizing.

Kieran's frustration was evident as he responded, "You knew it would go this way. You told me to challenge Ved, to make it look like he's some kind of threat. Was this all just to make everyone hate him?"

Varys chuckled, his laugh echoing ominously. "I wrote the script, you played your part. But wasn't it enlightening? Now, everyone sees Ved through those rumors I've been spreading."

Kieran's fists tightened. "I was a fool up there. You've been spreading those lies about Ved, making him out to be some sort of monster, just to isolate him, right?"

"Precisely," Varys said, his tone was light. "But see how effortlessly Ved handled you. It was almost too easy, wasn't it?"

Kieran's mind raced, connecting the dots. "You wanted to display his strength, to make him seem unbeatable, so everyone would turn against him."

Varys's eyes glittered with mischief. "You're catching on, Kieran. I've been feeding the academy with tales of Ved's supposed ruthlessness, pushing him to show his hand. Kieran. I wanted to push Ved into revealing his true colors, to make the academy fear him."

Varys leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Now, we watch. We see how Ved reacts, how he deals with being an outcast."

Kieran's gaze was sharp now, understanding the layers of deceit. "So, I was just a tool in your plan?"

Varys's smile. "We're all tools for someone's game, Kieran. The key is to recognize you're being played and how to play others."

With that, Varys walked away, leaving Kieran, the echo of his words filling the silence.