Chapter 12
The arena buzzed with noise long after the dust had settled. Students leaned over the rails, voices overlapping—half disbelief, half pure exhilaration.
"Did you see that light?"
"He made them look like amateurs…"
"That was cinema."
The headmaster rose from his seat at the far end of the stadium, his cloak catching the breeze as his voice carried across the field.
"Today, we witnessed strength. Not just victory, but resilience. Every one of you gave more than you thought you could—and that is the true spirit of Arcanis."
Applause scattered across the stands, though it came softer from the side that had just been flattened.
Medics sprinted into the field, crouching over the Blue Team. Spells hummed, runes flared, and students slowly began to stir awake. Ethan stood among them, mind still whirling with images of William's overwhelming light. It didn't feel real—how quickly one person had shifted the entire battle.
A shadow fell over him. William Light, hands in his pockets, leaned down with a crooked smile.
"Relax. I only hit you hard enough for a nap. You'll be fine." His tone carried a mock sympathy that made it sound more like a joke than reassurance.
Sage groaned, dragging herself upright with a scowl as she muttered.
"Oh, please. You only won because Maximiliano Zoltan wasn't around."
The name dropped like a spark in dry grass, igniting whispers all around. Maximiliano. Ethan blinked, but before he could ask, he spotted a familiar figure limping toward them.
"Freddie!" Ethan rushed over. "You okay?"
Freddie gave a faint smile through his bruises. "I'll live. Just… not the way I wanted it to go." His eyes flicked toward Warren, who was already leaving the field. "Guess he was right."
Ethan frowned, not missing the disappointment behind his friend's words. Around them, the battlefield dissolved into motion—Blue Team recovering, Red Team dispersing, medics hauling stretchers. The noise blurred, but Ethan could still feel William's laughter echoing in his head.
By evening, the arena felt like a distant memory. Ethan found himself tucked between shelves of ancient tomes, the quiet of the library a welcome contrast to the roars of the crowd.
He ran his fingers along a page, though his mind lingered on fists and fire. Maybe brute force isn't always the answer… Every battle so far had been the same—him throwing himself headfirst into fights, hoping power alone would carry him through. But against opponents like today's, that wasn't enough. He needed control. Knowledge. Brain over brawn.
A soft voice broke his thoughts.
"Why do you keep staring at me?"
Ethan's head snapped up. Across the table sat a sharp-eyed second-year, black hair neatly parted, posture straight as a blade. He hadn't even looked up from his book.
"I—I wasn't staring," Ethan stammered.
"You were." The boy turned a page calmly. "On average, every 2.5 seconds. Each time I flipped."
Ethan blinked. "…Who measures that kind of thing? Are you secretly a stopwatch?"
The silence that followed made Ethan more restless than the battlefield had. "Alright… I was just curious. The second-years don't seem to care about anything here. You're all… detached."
The boy finally met his gaze. His expression didn't change. "Some of us prefer not to waste time on games. Name's Eric and yes—before you ask—I'm in the Top Seven."
Ethan's eyes lit up. "Then show me your magic!
"No." The refusal was flat, immediate, and absolute.
"Wow," Ethan muttered, leaning back. "You're a real riot at parties, aren't you?"
Eric gave no reaction. The silence stretched, and Ethan decided he'd met the single most boring yet somehow intimidating person alive.
Elsewhere, Freddie stood in the gym, sweat dripping down his chin. Warren's words echoed in his mind: Head to head, you'll never beat me.
Freddie growled, slamming his fist into a training dummy. The strike detonated with such force the dummy snapped off its base, skidding across the room. He pressed a hand to his ribs, still aching, but his eyes burned. "I'll prove you wrong."
Meanwhile, Warren and William strolled through the quiet corridors, their voices carrying in the emptiness.
"You really waited until the last second to end it," Warren said, half amused.
William shrugged. "The match was boring. I felt like finishing it then."
"Enjoy your moments of power while they last," Warren teased.
William didn't take the bait. "I'm heading to the casino. Don't wait up."
Warren sighed, shaking his head. "Addiction's going to kill you before a ghost does."
William ignored him, already walking away. Over his shoulder, he added, "By the way, headmaster's been on me about a meeting. Top Seven business…It's been a while and as the captain, If you keep skipping, you'll catch hell for it."
William rolled his eyes. "He'll live."
And with that, the two drifted apart, shadows stretching long under the torchlight.
That evening, Ethan strolled the academy halls beside Luna. The glow of lanterns painted the stone corridors in warm light.
"You did well today," Luna said softly.
Ethan smirked faintly. "Thanks to you. If not for your help, I'd have been toast."
Her cheeks flushed. "You don't have to say it like that."
"I mean it. But compared to what I saw out there…" His smile faded. "I've got a long way to go."
"You do," Luna admitted. "So… what's your plan?"
Ethan's eyes sharpened. "Knowledge first. Then strength. I'm going to ask one of the top seven to train me."
Luna stopped in her tracks. "You're serious? Ethan, they won't waste their time with a first year."
"Probably not. But that won't stop me from trying."
They rounded a corner—and found a crowd gathered, voices buzzing.
"What's going on?" Luna asked a group of girls.
The answer hit like thunder. "Haven't you heard? Maximiliano Zoltan is finally back!"
Luna's eyes widened. "Wait… seriously?"
Later, the cafeteria buzzed with the same news. Ethan slid into a seat beside Freddie and Sage, trays clattering. For the first time all day, the four of them sat together—Ethan, Freddie, Sage, Luna—while the academy swirled with excitement around them.
The storm had passed, but something bigger loomed on the horizon.
In the headmaster's office, shadows stretched long against the walls. The headmaster leaned back, speaking to a cloaked figure at the window.
"Good work. Things were starting to destabilize, but with how events are unfolding… I fear we may not be able to trust our own people anymore."
The cloaked figure said nothing, only shrugged before slipping out into the dark.
The headmaster's eyes narrowed. "So it begins."