The duel against Galea Grog erupted the moment words ended. His arrogance turned to rage, and his sword cut through the air in reckless fury. Connor dropped the broken wooden blade and stepped aside with ease, letting the strike miss. Each of Grog's attacks carried brute power, but none found their mark.
Grog's personality revealed itself in every motion. Obsessed with strength, scorning the weak, and bending knee to those above him, he was a noble who despised the academy's equality. His "Gift" mirrored that flaw—it drained those of lower status when struck, overwhelming them with exhaustion. His "Curse" was its twisted reflection, leaving him weakened when hit by someone of higher rank. A power built on cowardice, strong only against the defenseless.
Connor knew he could not afford even a single blow. The weight of the Gift was crushing, yet Grog's fury made him predictable. The larger man swung wildly, spitting insults, his bloodshot eyes blind to defense. For Connor, openings appeared everywhere. But humiliation would not be enough—against nobles, a shallow defeat would only invite future trouble. What was needed was a complete fall, one that would crush pride before the eyes of every spectator.
At the perfect moment, Connor slipped inside Grog's guard. His fist shot upward, cracking against Grog's chin with a sharp impact that echoed through the arena. The giant toppled, teeth scattering across the floor as his sword clattered away. Gasps swept through the crowd.
Even stunned and bleeding, Grog tried to rise again. Pride forced his body forward, but his legs betrayed him, dropping him to his knees. Before he could continue, a commanding voice stopped the chaos.
From the stands descended Bergt Platinium, the Ninth Prince of the kingdom. His words were cold and absolute—Grog had lost. Nobility meant bearing defeat with dignity, not dragging shame across the arena. Shaken, Grog obeyed. Blood on his lips, he extended a trembling hand to Connor. For the sake of pride, Connor accepted it, offering only restrained courtesy in return.
With the duel ended, Connor expected peace. Instead, Sina Pallen pulled him into the waiting room, where her companions Jessie and Beatri awaited. To Connor's surprise, the two bowed deeply, voices rising in apology for their earlier insults. They thanked him as well, for saving their lives during the Hall Test.
But Sina's true purpose soon followed. With boldness burning in her eyes, she declared rivalry. From that day forward, her group would no longer rely on Connor—they would stand against him as equals and challengers. Jessie and Beatri echoed her words in clumsy unison, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment yet determination steady.
Connor could only wonder if they were serious, their dramatic performance resembling more a comedy than a threat.
The next day brought no time for rest. Connor followed Kyle's guidance to the academy's libraries. During the duel with Sina, Kyle had sensed a trace of Kurnugia's magic in the crowd, and now urged Connor to dig into the dragon's history.
The First Library towered above like a monument, its ten floors filled with knowledge from every field. Yet Kyle directed Connor elsewhere—to the neglected Second Library, a smaller, dust-choked building where ancient records from centuries past were kept. Its crumbling exterior and absence of windows made it feel abandoned, but inside lay forgotten truths.
If Kurnugia had lived for a thousand years, the answers to her disguise as a mere maid could only be found in the past. Though the path seemed futile—what could knowledge matter against a dragon?—Connor's instincts resisted submission. His body rebelled at the thought of kneeling, pushing him toward confrontation.
With steady resolve, he pushed open the heavy door of the Second Library, stepping into the darkness where history whispered and secrets of dragons might yet be uncovered.
.