15
Chapter 15
There was nothing left to see after B Class.
C, D, E.
As the classes dropped, the reaction from the VIP seats faded. Nadia nodded less, and Lionel kept his arms crossed.
Garrett remained silent from start to finish. Esme had her eyes half-closed. Only Isael maintained a constant smile.
As the E Class demonstration neared its end, Lionel spoke softly to Nadia.
"I think it's about time we bring up dinner."
"There's still one class left."
"F Class?"
Lionel scanned the stage and spoke to Nadia.
"Just based on the name..."
"I'm going to watch until the end."
Edouard quietly interrupted.
"F Class is essentially neglected, isn't it? I heard they don't even have an assigned teacher."
Edouard continued.
"It's hard to have any expectations."
"I think the Duke is right this time..."
Lionel shrugged, looking at Nadia, who showed no intention of moving.
"Let's just go eat. Is dinner ready, Ms. Nadia?"
"Ask my chef."
"Then we'll head out as soon as this is over—"
Esme tapped her staff once.
"Wait."
A short command. That was enough. Lionel shut his mouth.
The final class stepped onto the stage.
#
F Class.
The audience became restless. It was unusual for F Class to participate in the Academic Festival.
What could a class with no teacher and no lessons possibly show?
The homeroom teacher of that class walked to the center of the stage.
Enoch scanned the audience with his hands behind his back.
"F Class will perform a sparring match instead of a demonstration."
The hall fell silent.
A silence that felt as if they had misheard something.
Enoch waited a beat longer before continuing.
"I'll take volunteers. Anyone will do."
In the VIP seats, Lionel finally uncrossed his arms.
"Oh."
Nadia looked at the stage and spoke.
"Sparring?"
"F Class is sparring...?"
Edouard spoke quietly. His voice was still gentle, but something was mixed in. It was impossible to tell if it was interest or mockery.
Garrett and Isael remained motionless.
#
Benny stepped forward from one side of the stage.
What he carried at his hip wasn't a wooden training sword. It was a steel sword. The scabbard looked brand new.
Enoch had given it to him before the festival began. Benny had spent a long time fingering the scabbard before finally strapping it on.
His shoulders were relaxed.
He wasn't shaking. There was no reason to be nervous.
A few people in the audience stared at Benny.
With his wavy orange hair and puppy-like eyes, he looked far too ordinary for someone standing on a stage. That was what made it feel strange.
Enoch raised his hand toward the audience.
"A volunteer to face him."
A brief silence followed.
Then, someone stood up from a corner of the stands.
The B Class section.
It was a well-built male student. He walked toward the stage with a leisurely pace.
The audience buzzed again. No one expected a B Class student to step up against an F Class student.
Benny's gaze locked onto the student.
He recognized that face.
It was from when Benny had been lying in the infirmary with an injured hand. The student had visited, perhaps injured himself during training.
He had asked with a bright smile if they could be friends, since they were both Martial Arts Types.
Then, that same student had looked Benny up and down.
And he had said one thing.
To know his place. That a mere F Class student shouldn't dare speak to someone from B Class.
Benny couldn't say a word that day. His smiling face had frozen in place, and only after the student left did he lie there staring at the ceiling for a long time.
That boy was now stepping onto the stage.
The B Class student looked at Benny and sneered.
"So, you're the F Class volunteer?"
"Yes."
Benny answered briefly.
The student scanned Benny once more. His eyes were the same as they had been in the infirmary.
"Perfect. Now I can show you myself."
"Show me what?"
"Exactly where you stand."
The audience went quiet. The students, reading the atmosphere, held their breath.
Enoch looked back and forth between the two. He said nothing.
"Begin!"
The B Class student moved first.
His mana surged rapidly. Power flooded his body, and the moment he kicked off the ground—
Benny moved too.
A fire ignited in the center of his heart.
Engine.
Mana exploded all at once through his heart. His veins burned, a haze shimmered above his skin, and the air beneath his feet wavered.
In the VIP seats, Garrett's eyes narrowed.
'What is that...?'
The B Class student's fist flew forward.
A straight line aimed right at the front. It was fast and heavy, but the attack was far too honest.
Benny slipped to the side.
Half a step. He tilted his upper body, letting the fist graze his ear.
The next attack came. He slipped it again.
A kick aimed at his flank flew in. He stepped back and deflected it.
Benny dealt with the opponent's attacks with minimum movement.
The sensation of dodging Edelyn's Water Balls in the empty lot remained in his body.
Reading the direction of incoming attacks and slipping them. Blocking leaves an impact, but slipping does not.
These were the lessons he had learned while facing Edelyn.
The B Class student's expression began to harden.
"You little rat!"
He unleashed a barrage of punches, surging his mana even further.
Benny easily deflected each strike.
In the VIP seats, Nadia leaned forward.
"That F Class child... is he dodging? Or can he just not block?"
Lionel narrowed his eyes.
"He's dodging."
"Is there a difference?"
"A huge one."
Garrett remained silent. Instead, he sat up straight and focused on the stage, without blinking.
Isael quietly shifted his gaze, looking back and forth between the stage and Garrett.
The B Class student's breathing was becoming ragged. He was moving faster than before, but he couldn't connect.
Benny escaped every time by a hair's breadth. Rage began to boil over.
"Are you just going to keep dodging?!"
A hint of desperation crept into his voice.
Benny thought for a moment as he heard the words.
Just keep dodging?
'No.'
Benny's feet rooted to the floor. The feet that had been slipping the attacks stopped dead.
The B Class student seized the moment, reading it as Benny being frozen. He charged with everything he had.
Benny's heart gave one powerful throb.
Power surged up from his feet.
It flowed through his waist, up his shoulders, and into his hands.
He didn't draw the sword.
He raised it, gripping the scabbard.
High above his head.
The moment the B Class student dove in, unable to slow his momentum.
He brought it down vertically.
— BOOM —!!
A shockwave exploded in all directions. Students in the front row reflexively recoiled as cracks streaked across the stage floor.
The B Class student was sent flying backward and collapsed at the edge of the stage.
He didn't move.
The hall fell silent.
No one spoke. There were no gasps or cheers. They needed time to process what had happened before their eyes.
An F Class student had taken down a B Class student in a single blow.
Then.
— Clatter.
A chair tipped backward.
Garrett had bolted up from his seat.
The man, motionless until this moment, was staring down at the stage in shock.
He had never shown such a look during the A Class Martial Arts demonstrations.
Nadia looked up at him.
"Knight Commander?"
Garrett didn't answer. He couldn't take his eyes off Benny.
Esme leaned on her staff and muttered softly.
"Now that's a real Martial Arts Type."
Lionel searched for something to say but remained silent.
#
Assistants carefully loaded the B Class student onto a stretcher.
The audience grew rowdy again, but this buzz was different from before.
Benny stood to one side of the stage, opening and closing his palm. It tingled. It was a good feeling.
Enoch raised his hand toward the audience once more.
"I'll take the next sparring partner."
The crowd became noisy at the prospect of another match.
"Next is a Magic Type student."
Before he could even finish, people throughout the stands began glancing at each other.
Wondering which class would step up, or if anyone would at all. They had seen an F Class Martial Arts student beat a B Class student. Then, what about the Magic Types...?
From the VIP seats, Edouard spoke quietly.
"How interesting."
For the first time, his voice sounded sincere. Isael clasped his hands and looked at the stage.
"I suspect even the God is watching."
Then.
— Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of a staff echoed.
Esme had risen from her seat and was descending the stairs. Slowly, tapping her staff on every step.
The gaze of the entire audience shifted toward her.
Nadia's eyes widened.
"Elder?"
Esme didn't stop. She continued her slow approach toward the stage.
The hall fell silent. Both the gasps and the buzzing vanished.
As Esme descended the stairs, only the rhythmic sound of her staff remained.
— Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lionel spoke softly to Nadia.
"About dinner..."
"Shut up."
Nadia couldn't take her eyes off the stage.
Enoch watched Esme as she walked down the stairs.
For the first time, his gaze fixed on a single person.
'Old hag...'