Chapter 51: Fireball
William was furious—but he knew he was in a bad spot. The enemy outnumbered him more than a thousand to one, and he didn't want the sailors getting involved. If he'd learned one thing on this ship, it was that they took the chain of command seriously. If the sailors stepped in, they'd be killed.
As the nobles laughed at him with smug arrogance, William crouched beside Dixon, Cedric, and Thom. Their bodies were bruised, their faces covered in sweat, blood, and barely contained rage.
—"What's the rule?" he asked quietly.
—"Three minutes per match. Academy versus academy," Cedric muttered, spitting out a tooth. "If you can't handle it, they drag you out like a dog."
—"No surrender?" William frowned.
—"Only if you pass out or an instructor says so... and trust me, that never happens," Thom added bitterly.
William nodded, holding back his fury. He stood up and walked to the center of the makeshift arena. All eyes were on him—some curious, others mocking.
—"I challenge on behalf of my academy," he declared loudly.
The instructors looked at him, then burst into laughter.
—"You? You think you can take the place of fifty men?" one shouted, barely containing his ridicule.
Another stepped forward with firm strides—a square-jawed man with a hard face. His uniform bore a special emblem marking him as a Commissioner of the Union of Academies. He looked William up and down with scorn.