Several students instinctively clamped their hands over their mouths, shoulders shaking violently as they struggled to contain the laughter threatening to burst out of them.
A few turned their backs entirely, pretending to cough, their faces flushed deep red from the effort of suppressing themselves. Others weren't as disciplined, muffled snorts slipped through fingers, and the sound spread like a contagious tremor across the cafeteria.
Rianne saw all of it.
Every shaking shoulder.
Every trembling smirk.
Every pair of eyes that quickly looked away when she glared.
And the humiliation burned through her veins like molten metal.
"You…" she hissed, her voice low and venomous, teeth grinding against each other. "I'll kill you. How dare you try to humiliate me like this?!"
Ashan responded as if she had merely complained about the weather.
He lifted one hand in a lazy half-wave, fingers moving dismissively.
"It's fine," he said, his tone irritatingly calm, almost sympathetic. "I get it. Some women get overly aggressive during… certain days. Happens. I understand it."
Her eyes widened so suddenly it looked painful.
"…WHAT?! What nonsense is that? How are you saying that with a straight face?!"
Ashan let out a tired sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose like a weary teacher dealing with a particularly difficult student.
"And when Zevi said you smelled, I assumed he was exaggerating. But now that I'm closer…" He tilted his head slightly. "It really is strong. A fishy scent. That's usually a sign of infection. You should really check.."
He didn't finish.
Rax moved.
There was no warning.
One second he stood still, the next he exploded forward, fury distorting his face into something almost feral. His fist tore through the air like a fired bullet, aimed directly at Ashan's temple.
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
Gasps erupted from every direction.
But Ashan didn't move his feet.
Not an inch.
His arm rose smoothly, almost lazily, and caught Rax's fist mid-air with insulting ease.
The impact didn't even echo.
It was as if Rax had punched a wall.
"You need to be reminded," Ashan said calmly, his fingers tightening around Rax's hand, "that you don't get to act however you want here."
Then,
CRACK.
The sound was sharp. Wet. Unpleasantly intimate.
It sliced through the cafeteria like a blade.
Rax's eyes widened in shock.
A split second later, his face contorted as pain shot violently up his arm. He stumbled backward, clutching his wrist, breath hitching.
'My bones…' he thought. 'He cracked them… from the inside… What kind of monster…?'
Ashan released him without ceremony.
No triumph. No arrogance.
Just a blank, unreadable expression.
Zevi leaned over the table, eyes gleaming like a child watching fireworks.
"Did I just hear bones crack?" he asked with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Ashan, my guy, did you literally crush his hand?"
Rax ignored him, pride bleeding more heavily than his injury. His trembling fingers tightened around his wrist, jaw clenched so hard it looked like his teeth might shatter.
"You…" he forced out. "You apologize. Right now."
Ashan exhaled slowly through his nose.
"I will. Sure."
He pointed calmly at Rianne and Tyron.
"But only after they apologize to Elara first."
Rax scoffed harshly.
"Apologize? For what? They told the truth. Elara used Tyron for her selfish goals."
Nevil's nails dug deep into his palms, knuckles whitening.
But Ashan stepped forward before Nevil could speak.
"You're assuming she's guilty," Ashan said sharply, voice cutting through the tension like a blade, "because you're too blinded by your own stupidity to see what's in front of you."
He gestured toward Tyron.
"Look at him. The narrowed eyes. The twitching jaw. The inconsistent lip movements when he speaks. Micro-expressions of agitation and deflection. Physiological tells of a manipulative liar. This is basic physiognomy."
Tyron stiffened instantly.
His face flushed a furious red.
"You crazy bastard! That bitch used me.."
Nevil slammed his palm down on the table so hard the plates rattled violently.
"ENOUGH!"
The single word froze the entire cafeteria.
Nevil stood slowly, chest rising and falling heavily, fury trembling in his voice.
"Tyron," he said, eyes blazing, "I challenge you to an official duel. Right now."
Shock detonated through the crowd.
Even Elara snapped her head up in disbelief.
Rax barked out a harsh laugh.
"You? Duel Tyron? Don't be stupid. He'll kill you in ten seconds."
Zevi's smile disappeared.
He stepped forward, cracking his knuckles slowly as he faced Rax.
"Alright, asshole," Zevi said evenly. "If Nevil is fighting Tyron… then you're fighting me. I'm challenging you. Officially. Refuse if you're scared."
Rax's brows furrowed in irritation.
"Why would I fight you? What do I gain from it?"
Zevi's mouth curled into a mocking grin.
"Aww… trying to calculate risk now?" He leaned closer. "Alright then. If you defeat me, I'll crawl on the floor in front of everyone and apologize. Publicly. I give you my word."
That caught attention.
Rianne grabbed Rax's arm.
"Accept it," she urged, eyes burning. "This is the perfect chance to teach him a lesson."
Zevi nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah, why not listen to your girl? Or do you not love her enough to avenge her honor?"
Rax's teeth ground audibly.
"Fine," he growled. "I accept. But remember this well.. I will cripple you. You won't touch a sword for a long time."
Ashan narrowed his eyes slightly.
—---------------------------------
Name - Rax
Age - 26
Gender - Male
[Power rank - A]
[specialty - Combat fighter]
[Strength - 200]
[Stamina - 190]
[Endurence - 200]
[Agility - 150]
[Other powers and skills]
<> Blade Dance – A
Rapid slashes delivered in fluid succession, capable of striking multiple targets in a seamless offensive rhythm.
<> Flame Slash – A
Channels fire through the blade, converting physical damage into burning devastation.
<> Deathline Strike – A
A precise, singular blow aimed at a vital line in the body. Nearly impossible to block without flawless timing.
<> Phantom Footwork – B
Evasive footwork that allows the user to slip through attacks and reposition unpredictably.
—---------------------------------
—---------------------------------
Name - Tyron
Age - 25
Gender - Male
[Power rank - B]
[specialty -Battle mage]
[Strength - 140]
[Stamina - 150]
[Endurence - 100]
[Agility - 120]
[Other powers and skills]
<> Spear Mastery – B
Increased attack damage when using spears.
<> Power Jab – C
Fast, precise strikes that interrupt or stagger opponents.
<> Iron Stance – B
A stable defensive stance reducing incoming damage and preventing knockback.
<> Night Vision – C
Enhanced sight in darkness.
—---------------------------------
'Rax's raw strength and endurance are slightly above Zevi's… and that difference in speed won't help either. This isn't going to be easy. If Zevi slips even once, Rax has the power to turn a single mistake into a decisive finish.'
Ashan's gaze shifted subtly.
'But Zevi can at least handle himself. He's fought stronger opponents before. He adapts.'
His expression hardened almost imperceptibly.
'Nevil is the real problem.'
'Tyron may only be B-rank, but his numbers are still far beyond Nevil's current level. One hundred forty strength. One hundred fifty stamina. That's not something you casually overcome. And his skills aren't useless either; Iron Stance alone could shut down any reckless charge, and with Spear Mastery backing him, his mid-range control will be solid.
A quiet conclusion settled in Ashan's mind.
'If things continue like this… Nevil will definitely lose.'
He placed a firm hand on Nevil's shoulder.
"Don't rush it," Ashan said quietly. "There's no need to fight that moron."
But Tyron's voice thundered across the cafeteria before Nevil could respond.
"To hell with that! I accept the duel. I'll teach you and that gold digger a lesson you'll never forget!"
Ashan clicked his tongue.
Then he turned to Rax.
"Since everything is decided, let's do it properly. We inform the professor and schedule it. One week from now."
Tyron sneered.
"What's wrong? Trying to buy time? Afraid your friend will get crushed?"
Ashan smiled faintly.
"Are you afraid he might grow stronger in that time and defeat you? Or are you just eager to show off?"
Tyron's mouth snapped shut.
Rax raised his hand.
"A week is fine."
Ashan nodded.
"Good. Then let's end this before someone reports us."
"Look at you," Rianne said mockingly as she walked toward Ashan. "Putting on an innocent act and trying to escape."
Ashan met her gaze calmly.
"Does it look like that? What do you want?"
"You insulted me. I want an apology."
"An apology?" Ashan tilted his head slightly. "I don't think it's necessary. There's a possibility everything I said might be true."
Rianne's veins visibly bulged.
"Fine," she snapped. "If you won't apologize, I challenge you to a duel too."
Shock rippled through everyone again.
"Rianne, you don't need to.." Rax began.
"I refuse."
Ashan's immediate response cut him off.
Rianne blinked.
"What do you mean you refuse? Afraid your image will shatter?"
"That's exactly the issue," Ashan replied calmly. "If I duel a sick woman, people might say I took advantage of weakness to look strong."
"Coward," she spat. "You're making excuses because you know you'll lose."
Ashan's smile vanished.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Nevil felt it first.
Then Zevi.
Ashan's half-closed eyes slowly opened.
His pupils turned glowing white. Veins surfaced around them in sharp contrast, pulsing faintly.
A pressure filled the space.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just suffocating.
Rianne felt it crawl down her spine like cold water.
"What… what is that?" she whispered.
Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the glow faded.
Ashan smiled again.
"I'll accept your duel," he said softly. "But do not expect mercy."
His voice dropped slightly.
"You lost the moment you crossed the line and humiliated my friend's girlfriend."
He stepped closer, just enough for her to feel the weight of his presence.
"Prepare yourself. You're about to receive threefold of the same humiliation."