Atro, surrounded by a blinding flash that made it impossible for anyone else to see him, felt oddly calm given the situation he was in.
Despite his injuries—two arrows lodged in his body, one in his leg and the other in his stomach—Atro's focus was sharper than ever.
His body might not have been able to keep up with his mind, but that didn't stop him from pushing forward, despite the immense pain.
"I... I can't lose..."
Atro inhaled deeply and began to draw his bow with trembling fingers and ragged breaths.
His vision started to blur as the pain and blood loss took their toll.
His body moved sluggishly, as if every joint and limb were bound by heavy chains.
In contrast, Ximuss Yolte had taken less damage. The blue-haired student had only been pierced by a single arrow—Atro hadn't managed to land more than that during the entire duel.
While Ximuss had sustained a serious wound, it wasn't something he couldn't endure.
Still, getting pierced straight through the side of the stomach affects anyone, no matter how tough they try to act.
"My parents... they believe in me... they're watching me right now. I can't let them down," Ximuss muttered to himself as he reached toward his injury. The blood flowing from it made his head feel light and dizzy.
"!!!"
Ximuss' eyes widened as he spotted a single arrow flying fast through the bright light that enveloped Atro.
Tipped with the wavy pattern of water infusion, the arrow nearly vanished within the blinding light.
The student with the blue mohawk narrowly stepped aside at the last second, the arrow grazing his arm.
"Crystal-clear ice that reflects light from your surface—fall down."
"[Crystal Rain]"
From Ximuss' palm, dozens of small ice crystals shot out toward the glowing silhouette of his opponent.
The spell created floating shards of ice that hung suspended in the air, catching and redirecting any nearby light.
Light began to jump from shard to shard. Atro's illuminating spell lost its potency as the shards scattered the glow in all directions, slowly clearing a path for Ximuss to see through the blinding flash.
With Atro's light finally countered, Ximuss locked eyes with him.
"There's absolutely no way you can win against me. I've got a solution for anything you try," Ximuss said in a low, raspy voice.
"I... I can win. Aurum Academy doesn't do things without reason. It's the most prestigious magic academy in all of Terra. If I ranked even one place above you, it has to mean something!" Atro declared, his voice strong despite falling to his knees.
"Prince Theo der Botcam is ranked number one out of every first year, and he's known for being weak—he can barely wield a sword, and he's only slightly above average in magic. You probably only scored a single point higher than me in the entrance exams" Ximuss replied, eyes downcast as his injury began to take its toll.
"If you understand why you didn't make it into the S-Class, then why are you still going on about belonging there? Why do you keep obsessing over defeating Alen?"
"Because... it's not fair. My parents sacrificed so much just to get me accepted here. I did everything by the book, more than anyone else. And then someone just barges in and changes everything at the last second. It goes against everything I was taught..." Ximuss clenched his fist beside his injury, his glove turning red with his own blood.
"I'm just calling out how unfair it all is. I've been robbed of my rightful place—and I'll earn it back. No... I won't just earn it back. I'll rise above. I won't remain at the bottom—I'll climb the ranks until I'm at the top!" Ximuss exclaimed, grabbing an arrow from his quiver.
"Is that it...? You're amazing... truly," Atro whispered with a faint smile. "I only wanted to prove my worth. The thought of going beyond never crossed my mind... maybe because... this is the first time I ever wanted to stand out."
Atro had always been forgotten by his family. Most of his siblings barely remembered he existed. His father saw him as the lowest of priorities, and even his mother rarely interacted with him.
But he never saw it as wrong. To him, that was just how things were. He was forgettable. Not a priority. He understood that—and accepted it as normal.
"If you lose, I'll help you get back up. And if you win, we'll train together and get even stronger."
Alen's words echoed in Atro's mind, urging him to stand—despite nearly collapsing again.
He now had expectations to meet. Even if they had only recently started interacting, Atro deeply appreciated their friendship.
"You're not the only one with people counting on you," Atro whispered, pulling an arrow from his quiver. "You're not the only one who wants to prove himself."
"I'm not—but that doesn't mean I'll stop moving forward," Ximuss said, clenching his arrow.
"I won't stop either. From today on, I'll keep moving forward and growing— for the people who—"
"For the people who believe in us, right?" Ximuss finished for him.
They locked eyes once more, determination blazing despite the exhaustion and pain that blurred their vision.
Their bodies screamed with every twitch of muscle. And yet, none of that mattered.
They had the same mission—the same goal.
With uncharacteristic swiftness, they drew their bows and aimed at each other.
The strings tensed as they pinched their arrows.
Unlike Atro's, Ximuss hadn't infused his arrow with magic—his tip was plain, ordinary.
Their bows were drawn, aimed straight at the other's heart.
With a breath, their hands steadied.
And—
They released.
Two arrows flew through the air. Both students exhaled, knowing this would be the final act. The one that decided everything.
Or at least—it should have been.
The arrows met mid-air, clashing in the space between them.
Atro's water-infused arrow perfectly redirected the regular one, altering its path while continuing forward.
Its trajectory? Not fatal. It passed through the space between Ximuss' arm and chest.
Ximuss' arrow, deflected by the clash, veered off course.
And Atro's? It missed entirely.
Atro had failed to land the deciding hit.
Ximuss stood in place, letting out a long, trembling exhale. Meanwhile, Atro's body finally gave in. He collapsed forward, crashing to the ground as the pain of two embedded arrows caught up with him.
"N-no... I... I wanted…" Atro could barely form a sentence as he faded.
Tears welled up in his eyes as a storm of thoughts surged in the final seconds of consciousness.
I wanted to win. I let down my friends. I'll be demoted. I wanted to show everyone I belonged. I screwed up. I could've done better. Maybe there was nothing I could do. I can always try again. Alen promised we'd stay friends... that we'd grow stronger together.
Defeatist thoughts. Hopeful thoughts.
Atro let out a hiccuped breath as tears spilled freely.
"You..."
Ximuss' voice, low and tired, reached Atro in his final seconds of awareness.
"I apologize. You deserved to be in the S-Class."
Ximuss slammed his bow to the ground, using it to support himself.
"Student Atro Siuco is unable to continue fighting!" the teacher called out.
"Student Ximuss Yolte is the winner of this duel!"
---
"Atro!" I clenched my fists as the teacher declared the winner of the match.
"Alen..." Kaida whispered, gently resting her hand on my back to calm me down.
A sudden click of a tongue drew our attention toward Tirino.
"So this is the first duel I predicted correctly..." he said, frowning as he crumpled his ticket tightly in one hand.
"Atro... I should've helped you more..." Cole muttered, lowering his gaze before looking at me with a sorrowful expression.
"Don't worry, Cole. Just because he lost doesn't mean he'll stop interacting with us," Yani said gently, trying to comfort him. The strong guy who normally took detailed notes hadn't written anything this time.
"That's not the point," Tirino said, his voice low and tense. "No man likes to lose. No matter what, this isn't something a simple 'we'll try harder next time' can fix."
He stood up abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked away from the group.
Yani didn't reply. She only clicked her tongue in frustration once he was gone.
"I wish he wasn't right."
They're both right. A promise to do better next time doesn't mean much after a loss like that. Even if we truly intend to support Atro and help him grow stronger, he needs something real to lift him up again.
"Why don't we go see him?" Kaida suggested quietly, her tone shy.
"And what?" Yani asked. "Tell his unconscious body something he won't hear?"
I knew she was upset. I couldn't blame her for reacting this way.
"I will..." I said, standing up. "When I was unconscious, people came to visit me—stayed by my side even though I couldn't hear or respond."
My mind flashed back to the times I woke up in the infirmary and saw Fran sitting there—the first thing I'd see when I opened my eyes.
As I turned to leave, Kaida abruptly stood too.
"I-I'll also g-go!" she stammered, her cheeks flushed a deep red.
"I'm coming too," Cole added, standing and quickly catching up to Kaida and me. Silva silently followed close behind him.
"Ah... w-wait..." Yani called out as she stood up and hurried after us.
"S-sorry... I didn't mean to act like that. I was just—"
"We're all mad that Atro lost, Yani. You don't need to apologize," I said, my voice calm as she walked beside Kaida.