Chapter 89: The Apex Accepts

Caelus looked at the student standing before him, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Finally.

Despite the rumors surrounding his D-rank status and supposedly unimpressive abilities, no one had challenged him since he became the Academy’s Apex. The title carried enough weight to make even those who doubted his strength hesitate, apparently unwilling to be the first person to test whether it was deserved.

Someone had finally decided to take the risk.

More interestingly, the student standing before him was someone Caelus already had business with. He had intended to have a nonviolent discussion with the man, though the opportunity to arrange one had yet to present itself. It seemed Ruven had decided to make the first move himself, albeit in a rather different fashion.

Caelus could have refused. Ranked students were given three opportunities to reject ranking challenges, and he had no particular reason to waste one of those refusals on a stranger.

He tilted his head slightly, studying the young man with the expression of someone struggling to recall a face he had seen only in passing.

"Who are you again?"

The student’s smile froze.

Several people standing behind him immediately lowered their heads, struggling to suppress their laughter. It was an exceptionally rude question to ask someone who had formally introduced himself, and the fact that Caelus appeared entirely sincere made it worse.

Had another student spoken to him that way, the consequences would have been considerably less amusing. Ruven belonged to the Stailor family, a count’s house renowned for producing knights and maintaining close ties to the imperial family. Among ordinary nobles, the Stailor name carried enough prestige to command respect without requiring an introduction.

Before a Vespera, however, the distinction was considerably less impressive.

The conversation had already attracted the attention of nearly everyone in the lecture hall. Some watched with poorly concealed anticipation, eager to see the Academy’s Apex humiliated, while others seemed more interested in discovering whether Ruven was courageous enough to challenge him or simply foolish enough to believe the rumors.

Ruven recovered his composure with admirable speed, allowing his smile to settle back into place even as the faint tension around his eyes betrayed his irritation.

"Ruven von Stailor. Rank Seven. Wind Knight."

He inclined his head with practiced courtesy, preserving the outward appearance of respect that the situation demanded.

"So, Young Master Caelus, do you accept my challenge?"

Caelus met his gaze without answering.

The silence lasted only several seconds, but Ruven’s smile grew increasingly strained beneath his stare. Around them, the other students waited for Caelus to dismiss the challenge. Ranked students had routinely rejected such requests during the first week, preferring to assess their new positions before risking them in public, and most of the room seemed convinced the Apex would do the same.

Eve watched from one side of Caelus while Leon looked on from the other, neither interrupting the exchange.

Caelus finally answered.

"I accept your duel."

The announcement caught the room off guard. Ruven’s expression remained composed, though surprise flickered across his face before he managed to hide it. Caelus had given him exactly what he wanted, yet the student who had issued the challenge appeared less prepared for the acceptance than he had been for the possibility of rejection.

Caelus had already turned away.

By the time they reached the Academy’s dueling hall, word of the challenge had spread throughout the campus.

Rows of ascending seats surrounded the circular dueling platform, giving the hall the appearance of a small colosseum. Students from all four years had gathered to watch, their conversations overlapping as they settled in. The Academy’s Apex accepting a challenge from the Seventh Rank was enough to draw a crowd, particularly when rumors about Caelus’s abilities had circulated since the entrance examination.

"The Apex is fighting the Seventh Rank?"

"I heard he killed an S-rank creature during the examination."

"That doesn’t prove anything. There were other students with him, weren’t there?"

"Then we’ll finally see what he can actually do."

Another student scoffed, dismissing the prospect of a D-rank cripple defeating a Wind Knight as though the result had already been decided.

The comments continued around the arena, but Caelus paid them little attention. His gaze moved across the spectators and settled on two familiar figures seated among them.

His elder brother and sister had both come to watch.

Neither attended dueling matches very often, which made their presence conspicuous enough to draw a few curious glances from the surrounding students. Caelus examined them briefly before his eyes met his brother’s.

He understood the message immediately.

Do not sully the Vespera name.

A quiet chuckle almost escaped him, but he suppressed it before it could reach his lips. Even here, where the Academy had formally recognized him as its strongest ranked student, his family appeared more concerned with the possibility of embarrassment than with the reasons he had accepted the challenge in the first place.

Caelus looked away and settled onto the waiting bench near the platform, adjusting the strap of the light armor around his wrist. The material fitted closely around his forearm, offering protection without restricting movement, and he checked the fastening before pulling it into place.

Eve sat beside him, her gaze shifting briefly toward his hands.

"Are your injuries from last time healing?"

"They’re fine," Caelus answered.

The lie came easily enough, although his mana circuits remained incompletely recovered. The damage had improved since their last encounter, but the process was taking longer than he would have preferred, and forcing too much mana through the affected pathways could aggravate the injury.

Eve studied him from head to toe. Her eyes lingered briefly on his posture before returning to his face, as though she had noticed something that did not quite match his answer. She said nothing about it, however, and Caelus made no effort to offer a more convincing explanation.

"Don’t get seriously injured," she said. "Once you’ve recovered fully, you’ll be fighting me for the title."

She delivered the statement with the certainty of someone discussing an appointment that had already been arranged.

Caelus turned his head toward her.

"You’ve already decided the outcome?"

"I’ve decided we’re fighting."

Eve’s expression remained unchanged, leaving little room for further discussion. She had made her intentions clear, and Caelus suspected that refusing her would only postpone the inevitable.

He rose from the bench and headed toward the platform.

"Your sword?" Eve called after him.

"I don’t need it."

Caelus continued walking without turning around.

Caelus stepped onto the platform without a sword, drawing immediate attention from the nearby spectators.

"Where’s his weapon?"

"Isn’t he supposed to be a mage?"

"I saw him carrying a sword before."

"A Vespera who can’t even use a weapon properly?"

His empty hands drew more attention than the armor covering his forearms, and several students leaned forward to get a better look, apparently hoping they had missed some detail that would explain his decision.

Across the platform, Ruven had already taken his position. He carried a claymore whose broad blade looked considerably more suited to crushing through an opponent’s guard than making delicate adjustments during a close exchange. His eyes moved from Caelus’s hands to his waist, searching for the weapon that should have been there.

Finding nothing, he frowned.

While the crowd continued speculating, Elysia made her way to the betting counter along one side of the arena.

The attendant had already collected a substantial number of wagers on Ruven’s victory. There was comparatively little interest in backing Caelus, whose supposed weaknesses had given the other students ample reason to consider him an easy opponent. The betting side reserved for the Apex consequently remained almost empty.

Elysia approached the counter and placed one thousand gold coins on Caelus’s victory.

The attendant looked at the amount, then at her, apparently uncertain whether she had understood the odds.

"Are you certain?"

Elysia offered him a small smile before turning away, leaving the coins where they were.

She had no intention of arguing with the crowd or explaining why she trusted Caelus to win. If the students wanted to judge him before seeing him fight, that was their mistake to make.

Back on the platform, Ruven raised his claymore slightly.

"Where is your sword?"

Deja vu.

"I don’t need it," Caelus replied.

A series of whistles rose from the audience, accompanied by scattered laughter. Ruven’s smile tightened, and his fingers closed more firmly around the weapon’s grip.

"You’ll regret that," he said.

Caelus looked directly at him.

The faint smirk that had accompanied his acceptance was gone, and his expression settled into a coldness that left no trace of the amusement he had displayed earlier.

"You’ll regret being born."

He spoke quietly, without raising his voice or making any effort to ensure the audience heard him. The words were directed entirely at Ruven, who stood opposite him with a claymore in hand and a smile he was finding increasingly difficult to maintain.

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then the match official stepped between them, drawing their attention toward the center of the platform.

"Both contestants will abide by the rules of a standard ranking match. Lethal attacks are prohibited. The duel will end when one combatant is rendered unconscious or forfeits. Any interference from outside the platform will result in immediate disqualification."

The official waited until both participants had acknowledged the conditions before retreating to the edge of the arena. The spectators quieted as he raised one hand, their earlier conversations gradually giving way to an expectant silence.

The Apex stood without a weapon, facing the Seventh Rank.

Ruven tightened his grip around the claymore, his expression finally settling into something more serious than the courteous smile he had worn since issuing the challenge.

Caelus remained still, watching him approach the starting position with an unreadable expression.

The official lowered his hand.

"Begin!"

Ruven blurred forward.𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂