Chapter 68: Unofficial Match [3]
The arena lights made the empty stands look larger than they were.
Most of the seats were dark. The battlefield that had held hundreds of matches today sat quiet under the magical overheads, the reinforced floor still carrying the cracks from earlier fights. The crowd that had gathered were just people who had caught word somewhere in the corridors and followed out of curiosity.
They were already whispering when Alden and Augustus walked in.
"They’re seriously doing this now?"
"What happened between them?"
In the front rows, Seris had already taken a seat.
A few minutes later, footsteps came fast down the aisle.
Nicholas got there first, eyes on the arena, jaw tight. Leon right behind him. Roselle and Legion together a step after.
"What the hell happened?" Leon leaned over the railing. "Why are they fighting tonight?"
Roselle looked at the battlefield. Then at Seris sitting alone near the front.
She crossed to her immediately.
"Vice-President Seris. What happened?"
Seris glanced at them. Just once.
"I’ll explain later." Her eyes went back to the arena. "Watch for now."
The four of them looked at each other. Then at the battlefield.
The announcer was doing her best to look professional and was not entirely succeeding.
She hovered on her cloud between the two of them, clipboard in hand, looking between a Crown Prince running lightning up his arms and the person on the other side of the arena who appeared to be thinking about something unrelated to the fight.
"I want to point out that the first-round examination ended several hours ago—" She glanced at both of them. "And conducting additional matches without proper administration approval at this hour is, technically speaking, against procedural—"
"Just shut up already." Augustus’s voice didn’t raise.
The announcer’s cloud wobbled. Her clipboard went sideways.
"Everything that happens here is on me." His eyes didn’t move from Alden. "Stay silent."
"...Yes, Your Highness."
Alden stood on his side of the arena and considered something.
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Status
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Name: Alden
Level: 32 — EXP: 52,970 / 53,000
Power Combat: 160
Rank: C+
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"By the way, President."
Augustus looked at him. "What."
Alden raised one finger. "I want to add an additional condition."
The eyebrow went up. "Speak."
"For every condition you applied for this fight." He paused. "It only counts while we’re inside the academy."
Augustus stared at him.
Then he laughed. "Where exactly do you think I’m going?"
He shook his head. "Fine. I’ll accept something that pointless."
The smile that settled on his face afterward was colder than the one that came before it.
"After all — I’m the one who’s winning."
Alden’s lips moved. Just slightly.
"Good."
The announcer raised her hand weakly. "Are both sides—"
Neither of them answered. The atmosphere changed.
BOOM.
Thunder erupted around Augustus without him moving. Yellow lightning coiling up from the floor, wrapping his arms, spiraling to his shoulders and tightening, the arena lights flickering from the pressure of it. The ground beneath his feet vibrated.
Students in the stands leaned back at the same time.
Nicholas’s expression went serious without him deciding to make it serious.
"That’s him when he’s not holding back," he said quietly.
Leon swallowed. "He’s a completely different person."
Roselle’s eyes moved from Augustus to Alden.
Alden stood with his arms at his sides.
Coat moving in the pressure wave. Expression still.
The announcer’s hand came down.
"Begin."
Augustus looked across the arena at him.
Something was wrong.
During the examinations Alden had fought with his whole body — constant adaptation, constant reading, full presence in every exchange. Against Nathan. Against four people at once. There had never been a moment where he seemed checked out.
Right now he wasn’t in a fighting stance.
Arms loose, weight relaxed. He wore the distant look of a man running numbers in his head—completely ignoring the person in front of him.
’Is he taking me lightly?’ Augustus’s jaw tightened. "Are you looking down on me?"
He didn’t wait for the answer.
BOOM.
Lightning exploded beneath his feet and he was across the arena before the sound caught up. His fist was wrapped in condensed electricity, already committed to the face of the person in front of him.
He wasn’t putting everything into it.
’He’ll dodge this. Like he did with Nathan. And then he’ll stop playing around.’
The distance disappeared.
Alden didn’t move.
Augustus registered it half a second before impact.
’He’s still not moving—?’
BAAM.
His lightning-coated fist hit Alden square in the face.
Alden’s body launched backward, feet off the ground, coat snapping, and he crossed the arena floor in under two seconds before hitting the far wall.
BOOM.
The wall cracked outward from the impact. Dust erupted in a thick cloud.
The arena went completely still.
Then:
"WHAT?!"
"Why didn’t he DODGE?!"
"Is he seriously not taking the President seriously?!"
Augustus’s fist was still extended.
He stared at where Alden had been standing.
’He didn’t move afterall?’
The murmuring from the stands only made the feeling worse. He had expected a fight. He had expected Alden to stop playing passive and actually show him what today’s performance had come from.
Instead the man had just stood there and eaten a full-speed lightning punch to the face.
His fists tightened.
"What’s your problem?!" His voice rolled across the arena. "Are you LOOKING DOWN ON ME?!"
The dust was settling.
A silhouette appeared crouched against the cracked wall. One hand on the floor. The other on his own jaw, like he was checking something.
Alden coughed once. Then he pushed himself upright and stood.
He rolled his shoulder. Checked his jaw again with two fingers. Then he brushed the dust off his sleeve.
The students who had been waiting for the counterattack were still waiting.
Alden looked across the arena at Augustus.
"I give up." He raised one hand. "You win."
The arena went dead silent. Dozens of people were trying to make sense of what just happened, and nobody was getting anywhere.
Even Augustus had gone completely still.
"...What."
"I said you win." Alden dusted off his other sleeve.
The silence held.
Somewhere in the stands a student let out a sound that was half-laugh and half-confusion and couldn’t decide which one to commit to.
Nicholas was staring at the arena floor.
Leon’s mouth was open.
Roselle had pressed two fingers against her lips.
Legion’s eyes hadn’t moved from Alden’s face.
The same person who had climbed from 248th to first place in a single day. Who had taken a point-blank strike from a top-ten student and walked away. Who had caught two full-power punches with his bare hands in front of the whole academy.
Had given up after one punch.