Duel

Just before the clock struck five, a crowd was already forming on the training field.

Cyril was famous among the first-years, and everyone who didn't want to stay in their room gathered there to watch the fight.

Leo Arken, motivated by a petty grievance, spread the rumors about the duel wherever he could.

As a result, many other students from the second year also formed a crowd. They wanted to see how Bran would deal with this freshman.

Bran himself was standing in the middle of the arena while leaning on his wooden mace with a cocky expression.

Leo was standing nearby.

Everyone looked forward to the fight, but as time went on, Cyril was still nowhere to be seen.

This caused many whispers to spread among the crowd.

"Tsk... I knew that first year would escape; smart decision," said one student.

"You say that because you don't know Cyril. That guy wouldn't run from a fight he accepted," said a first-year student.

Despite the first-years' collective unease toward Cyril, they still felt compelled to defend his absence.

Maybe it was their fear of him that made them refuse to believe he would ever yield to a bully like Bran.

"Where is Cyril? He is usually more punctual," Rose said with displeasure.

The group has all gathered here as well. They couldn't miss their friend's duel.

"He must've been held back by something." Cedric said with no suspense on his face.

He was here too; he also brought Anna and Aldy with him.

It was now ten minutes past five, and Bran was getting irritated by now.

"That coward!" He angrily said before turning to look at Leo not too far away.

"No takebacks! The deal will—" Before he could finish, someone in the crowd screamed.

"He is here!" The alarmed voice garnered everyone's attention.

Soon the people parted ways to let someone pass through.

People's excitement as they looked in that direction soon turned to confusion.

With slow footsteps, a tired figure steadily approached the arena.

Cyril was here, followed by a beautiful red butterfly, though he didn't look quite ready for a fight.

His body was covered in sweat, his breathing was disorderly and fast. He looked completely exhausted.

Cyril slowly approached the weapon's rack and took out a wooden spear.

Using it as support, he finally walked to the center of the arena.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Bran yelled at Cyril.

Before Cyril replied, he took a few more deep breaths. "Don't worry, I can still fight."

Despite how tired it sounded, his voice still appeared confident.

Hearing such an answer, even more whispers started going around the crowd.

"He is saying that he can still defeat Bran even when he is on the verge of passing out!" Someone yelled in excitement.

"Bran, he is saying you are nothing!" Someone tried pouring more oil on the fire.

Similar words rang out everywhere within the crowd.

Bran also came to the same conclusion. His face became more and more angry, but he reined in his emotions in time.

"We'll see if you can keep this charade up." He smiled and cracked his knuckles.

He was about to grab his weapon when Cyril raised his arm to catch his attention.

Cyril stood still after this for a few seconds as if listening to something before saying, "Another thing."

He was already breathing more steadily.

"Do you mind if my butterfly fights you in my stead? If you manage to win, then the duel is my loss," said Cyril, his tone completely serious.

At this moment Morpho sat on his outstretched arm and flapped her wings.

Cyril's words silenced everyone around. It took a few seconds for them to process what he just said.

Someone wanted to scream how Cyril was trying to evade the fight by hiding behind his pet—but looking at him, their words were stuck. They could feel that he truly believed his pet had a chance.

An even bigger excitement has awakened within the crowd.

"What is he doing!? What about my revenge? He..." In the crowd, Aldy said in frustration.

Before he said anything further, Cedric put his hand on his shoulder and replied in a reliable voice, "Have some trust in him." Cedric didn't look skeptical at all.

When Bran recovered, he laughed with malice.

"Hahaha, I've fought beast tamers before you, asshole. Come at me with all you've got, but don't cry if I 'accidentally' kill your stupid fly—It is a duel after all, I can't promise to keep the life of something so small." He angrily said and grabbed the giant mace.

"If you say so..." Cyril replied with a voice a few levels colder.

At this moment Bran felt a shiver go through his body; he grabbed his mace in alarm and assumed a stance. A few beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"What's wrong with him?" The spectators grew confused at his movements.

Bran himself didn't know why he behaved so vigilantly all of a sudden. After a moment he snapped at Leo to begin the duel.

"The loser of this duel will kneel and apologize to the winner in public. Ready? Go…!" Surprised, Leo Arken quickly announced the beginning of the fight and stepped aside.

Bran immediately activated a spell. His muscles appeared to grow a size, and he effortlessly held his massive mace in one hand.

With an energetic scream, he began running.

Cyril calmly awaited the approach of his opponent with a lowered spear.

The moment Bran stepped in close enough, the butterfly flew straight at him.

With a ruthless expression, Bran swung his mace, with ease as if it were a dagger, right at Morpho. This was an attack with all his strength; if it hits, who knows if Morpho will survive?

Suddenly, when the blow was about to connect, Morpho greatly sped up, leaving afterimages in her path and evading the blow altogether.

Bran never expected a butterfly to make such a dash.

Before he was able to put up a defense, Morpho, with great momentum, hit him right in the chest.

There was a small shock wave at the point of contact, and the butterfly bounced back, recovered her flight after a second, and in a wobbly manner landed back on Cyril's shoulder.

Bran recovered after his failed swing, jumped back, and touched his chest a few times in alarm.

Finding nothing wrong, he turned to look at Cyril, who still didn't make any movements.

"I was surprised there for a moment. You've missed your only chance to beat me" Bran arrogantly said.

He was about to approach again but froze after making a step with a surprised expression. He stayed still for some time.

The confused spectators were about to raise a ruckus when a change happened.

Bran's face twisted in a grimace, and he fell to his knees.

His whole body was twisting and turning unnaturally.

Where visible, it appeared as if there were numerous bugs crawling underneath his skin.

Bran was barely holding back screams. He was clearly in a ton of pain right now.

At this moment Cyril approached his helpless opponent and looked at him for a few seconds, observing what was happening to Bran's body with curiosity.

When Bran's shaking was about to stop completely, Cyril hit him in the chest. A similar shock wave to before happened.

Bran's pupils constricted at the familiar feeling, and fear was evident in all his being.

Before he managed to mutter anything, Bran went into convulsions again.

This time he fell on the ground, and a scream finally escaped his lips.

Cyril continued to observe the state of his opponent with interest, sometimes nodding in satisfaction, scaring some of the spectators.

The crowd was watching the fight in complete silence; a few people turned around out of disgust.

The second years never expected that Bran would lose in such a quick fashion.

While the first years never expected that Cyril would win in such an unnerving fashion.

After a bit more time, Bran finally stopped shaking and lost consciousness. Blood was flowing out of the corner of his mouth.

Before Leo even had the chance to end the duel, academy staff members quickly came in, cast a few spells, and carried the body away.

"Idiot," muttered Cyril, looking at the departing Bran.

His voice wasn't loud, but in this silence it was enough for everyone to hear it.

With this, the crowd seemingly woke up and started to discuss the short duel with excitement.

Some people with interest were debating what that butterfly did with that attack, and some were trying to ask Cyril's classmates what happened.

"Well, it's good that he won, right?" Rose said and turned to Myra.

"...Uh, yeah!" Myra replied after a slight delay. There was confusion in her eyes.

She happened to recognize the attack Morpho did. It looked quite similar to what she had seen just recently.

"Damn, Cyril is ruthless, isn't he?" Edmund said with slight excitement.

Cedric had a slight frown on his face, but after a moment he smiled and turned to Aldy. "See? Cyril won; it's all good."

Aldy himself looked like he had stars in his eyes; he nodded like a pecking chicken.

At this moment, Cyril approached the shocked Leo. "The duel is over." There was still no announcement from the acting judge.

With a slight tremble, Leo screamed about Cyril's victory and practically ran away afterwards.

After this, Cyril walked back from the arena without any fanfare. The people on the way cautiously gave way.

"A piece of cake!" Rhamn was celebrating the win with a smug expression. "Good job, Cyril and Morpho!"

Yeah, Morpho did well. Cyril mostly used this fight as an experiment to see what Selene's technique was capable of.

He wasn't disappointed. Despite his unskilled usage, the spell was still able to bring great harm to Bran, effectively ending the fight in a single blow.

Through Morpho he send mana into Bran's body, letting it wreak havoc on it from the inside.

He obviously tried to avoid vital organs—after all, they were still on academy grounds—and it worked beautifully.

When Cyril gets more proficient in the technique, he would be able to win the fight without making such a scene.

Still, it's a good thing Bran was not that strong with magic.

If Bran were, he would've been able to negate the rampaging mana inside of his body.

"No ifs. We won, and that's what matters." That's true. In a good mood, they went towards the dorm.