## CHAPTER 59: Blaze and Blade.
The afternoon sun cut sharp rectangles across the lecture hall of Class . Dust motes drifted through the light like lazy embers.
Caspian leaned against the stone windowsill, fully engrossed in the discussion between Elisa and Casel.
Allium stormed into the class followed by his friend's, his blue hair catching the light, jaw set so tight it looked carved from marble, His friends tailed him bur stopped, even they didn't want to be too close to whatever was about to happen.
Caspian straightened off the windowsill. His eyes met with Allium and in that second, the classroom became a different kind of battlefield.
"Commoner," Alium said. The word was venom and silk at once. "You talk a lot for someone who hides behind cheap tricks."
Lyra stood. "Alium, don't—"
"Stay out of this, Valerius." Alium's voice cracked like a whip. "This is between me and the Commoner who thinks he belongs here."
Casel stepped forward, but Caspian put a hand on his shoulder. Gentle. Firm. _Don't._
Alium's hand slid into his coat. When it came out, it held a white dueling glove, embroidered with the gold crest of his house.
The room went dead silent. Everyone knew what that meant.
A formal challenge. Public. Unrefusable, without forfeiting honor.
Alium's lip curled. Then, with deliberate malice, he flicked his wrist.
The glove spun through the air and struck Caspian across the cheek. Not hard — but loud. Insulting. Final.
A gasp rippled through the class. Elisa's hand flew to her mouth.
Caspian didn't flinch. He just closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, the easy-going light was gone. What was left was cold, and old, and very, very tired.
"Now. Unless you're afraid, _Ordinary_."
He turned on his heel and stormed out, his lackeys scrambling after him.
The silence he left behind was thick enough to choke on.
Lyra was the first to move. She grabbed Caspian's sleeve. "You don't have to accept. He's breaking three academy codes just by—"
"I know," Caspian said quietly. He reached up and brushed his cheek where the glove had hit. "But if I don't, he'll just find someone weaker to take it out on."
He looked at Casel, at Elisa, at Lyra. _"Sorry,"_ his eyes said. _"I tried."_
Then he walked for the door, and the classroom erupted into frantic whispers behind him.
---
"Mr. Alium... is this really what you want?"
Caspian's voice was a low anchor in the rising storm of the training courtyard. He didn't want this. He looked at the scorched stone beneath Alium's feet and the manic light dancing in the other boy's eyes, searching for even a flicker of the person who had once just been a boastful rival. He was trying to find a way to stop this madness before the first drop of blood hit the pavement.
Alium ignored him. Words were nothing but static now, white noise that couldn't penetrate the roar of the fire in his veins. The humiliation of their last encounter had festered in his gut like a parasite, and today, he was going to cut it out. He was going to release every ounce of his bottled rage and finally put the Commoner in his place.
"Hey, Commoner!" Alium barked, his voice cracking with a jagged, hysterical edge.
"Yes?" Caspian replied instantly. He held his breath, hoping against hope that Alium had finally hit a moment of clarity—that maybe, just maybe, they could lower their hands.
But Alium's hand dipped into the air, and with a flash of light, he tossed a heavy object across the space between them. It tumbled through the air, glinting in the afternoon sun. Caspian caught it with a practiced reflex. It was a long sword, housed in a scabbard of midnight-black leather.
*SIGH.* Caspian let out a long, weary breath. *"If this is what he wants,"* he thought, his jaw tightening, *"I have no choice."* He had tried to be the voice of reason. He had offered the olive branch. Now, he could only hope that a swift, decisive defeat would finally force Alium to see the truth.
Caspian went down on one knee, his movements fluid and disciplined. He gripped the hilt and drew the blade just a few inches. The steel was a polished obsidian, a black blade so pristine it acted as a dark mirror, reflecting his own determined eyes back at him.
*"Excellent craftsmanship,"* Caspian noted. As a master of the blade, he could read a weapon's soul through its weight and texture. He slid the sword back into the sheath with a metallic *shing* and rose to his feet. He took a classic drawing stance, the sword held low by his left hip, his thumb resting against the guard.
He looked back at Alium. The blue-haired boy stood empty-handed, his palms open and facing upward.
"Sir Alium... where is your sword?" Caspian asked.
"You really think I need such a crude, primitive tool to beat the likes of you?" Alium's laugh was a sharp, grating sound. "Why would I reach for steel when I possess the supreme form of weaponry? A talentless nobody like you—someone who will never feel the hum of mana in their marrow—does not deserve to stand in the presence of those graceful enough to wield the elements!"
He threw his arms out wide. Massive plumes of orange-red fire erupted from his palms, roaring like jet engines.
"BEGIN!" Alium screamed.
Caspian's eyes widened. In a sanctioned duel, the start was always signaled by a third-party official. To call it yourself was a blatant violation of the duelist's code—it was cheating, plain and simple.
But Alium was beyond the code. He was a man drowning in a sea of his own pride, convinced that a victory here would make him the academy's hero, the one who finally took down the untouchable Commoner.
"Blessed be the spark! Rise from the depths!" Alium chanted, his voice rising in a feverish pitch. A golden incantation circle snapped into existence in front of him, spinning with violent speed. "Nature, reveal your power! **FIRE BOLTS!**"
Orbs of concentrated flame shot out from the circle, one after another, shrieking through the air with terrifying velocity. They weren't just fire; they were guided projectiles, honing in on Caspian with predatory accuracy.
Caspian didn't panic. He blurred into motion, jumping backward as the first orb struck the ground where he had been standing, shattering the stone. He twisted his body in mid-air, a second bolt whistling past his ear so close he could smell the singe of his own hair.
He landed, his boots skidding, and finally, his hand moved.
It was a flash of black steel—a move so fast the eye couldn't track the blade's trajectory. *Clang! Clang! Clang!* Caspian spun the sword with a dexterity that bordered on the supernatural, slicing through the remaining fireballs. He didn't just parry them; he cut the mana threads holding them together, causing the flames to dissipate into harmless embers before they could explode.
Lyra's breath hitched in her throat. "Such shocking speed," she whispered, her crimson eyes straining to follow him. Even as a Valerius, she had rarely seen a swordsman move with such lethal grace.
"He... he sliced through the magic?" one of Alium's lackeys yelled from the sidelines.
"No way! That's physically impossible!" another cried out.
Alium's face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated loathing. He saw Caspian return the sword to its sheath, resetting into that same calm, infuriatingly patient stance.
*"Caspian..."* Silas thought from the shadows of the pillars, his dark eyes fixed on the combatants. *"Waiting for the next attack is a mistake. You think you can tire him out, but Alium is fueled by madness now. If you don't end this quickly, you will regret it."*
"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" Alium shrieked, his voice breaking.
He slammed his hands together. Three massive, interlocking incantation circles appeared above his head, glowing a violent, pulsating red. The air in the courtyard began to warp from the sheer output of heat.
"Hades O Lor! Spring forth through thy might! **ASHUETH INCINEROAR!**"
The circles erupted. Three spiraling beams of concentrated plasma shot forth, lashing out like the tongues of dragons. Caspian's pupils dilated. This wasn't a standard spell; it was a high-tier annihilation technique.
With a powerful thrust of his hind leg, Caspian launched himself to the side. He didn't just dodge; he began to run in a tight, dizzying circle around Alium, a blur of motion that left after-images in the dust.
"Such power..." Lily breathed, her usual disdain for Alium momentarily forgotten. She had never expected him to reach this level of intensity.
"CASPIAN is keeping up!" Casel shouted, cheering as Caspian performed a series of gravity-defying leaps over the beams as they carved deep, molten trenches into the courtyard floor.
"Yeah, but look!" Lyra pointed out, her voice urgent.
As a fire-user herself, Lyra saw the trap. A spiral-class move like *Ashueth Incineroar* didn't just travel in a straight line; it had a tracking component. The beams were beginning to curve, following the heat signature of Caspian's movement.
Caspian skidded to a halt, preparing to lunge, when Alium adjusted his aim. A beam grazed Caspian's shoulder, the heat so intense it charred his sleeve instantly. He did a desperate backflip to avoid a follow-up, but as he moved, the beam he had just dodged curved in mid-air. It pulled a sharp 180-degree turn, screaming back toward his blind side like a heat-seeking missile.
It was coming from his right. He was mid-air, eyes locked on the two beams coming at him from the front. No time to land. No time to dodge.
*"Ughh"* Caspian thought.
He wrenched his body around, bringing the black sword—still in its scabbard—up to his right in a desperate block.
*BOOM!*
The beam slammed into the black blade. The impact was like being hit by a speeding train. The concussive force sent Caspian hurtling through the air, his body tumbling across the stone floor like a ragdoll. His sword was wrenched from his grip, spinning away and clattering into the far corner of the arena.
"CASPIAN!" Elisa screamed, her face pale with terror. She wanted to run in to stop this but since it was a duel as a noble she could not intervene.
"Come on, Caspian... get up!" Lyra whispered, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing.
***
*Cough.*
Caspian groaned, his vision swimming. He tasted copper in his mouth. He struggled to his knees, his left arm hanging limp and scorched. He looked toward his sword—it was twenty feet away.
*"He's really not making this easy,"* Caspian thought, his breath coming in ragged gasps. *"I know I'm not supposed to show my true strength... but this is getting lethal."*
He forced himself to his feet, panting hard. He clutched his left arm, his gaze locking onto Alium.
Alium stood at the center of the charred arena, a terrifying, satisfying smile stretching across his face. He looked like a god of the furnace.
"Now you see!" Alium yelled, his voice booming with a manic triumph. "You are nothing against the majesty of magic! Magic rules supreme! I bear power far beyond your feeble, mundane understanding! NOW... KNEEL!"