Chapter 197: Lesson learned
A few parents muttered under their breath, scanning their children’s reactions with sharp glances, uncertain whether this was acceptable behavior or an omen of chaos to come.
Elise gasped softly, stepping forward, her hand brushing gently against Jae’s arm. Her touch was soft but insistent, a tether to reality, grounding him without judgment. "Enough, Jae. Please."
Her warmth seeped into him like a faint pulse, and for the first time in moments, the pressure of the hall, the weight of authority, and the thrill of victory softened just enough for him to release control.
He loosened his fist, and the crushing weight vanished as if it had never been. The noble collapsed fully, wheezing, face flushed red with anger, humiliation, and shock.
He looked around helplessly as his companions rushed to help him, their hands hesitant, unsure whether to scold or shield him from further embarrassment.
The hall buzzed with a renewed chaos, but it was a different kind of energy. Whispers had transformed into murmurs of awe. Some nobles stifled laughter behind delicate hands, others glanced nervously at one another, unsure how to address the breach of etiquette.
Servants glanced from table to table, aware that the audience’s attention had shifted entirely.
From the far side of the hall, Sun’s voice cut through the murmurs. Cold, cutting, filled with disdain. "Pathetic."
The entire hall shifted again, everyone turning instinctively toward the voice. Sun stood perfectly composed, arms crossed over his chest, though the faint gleam of mana along his sleeve hinted at readiness, not mere posture.
His expression was unreadable, a mask polished to perfection, but his eyes lingered on the groaning noble long enough to convey silent judgment before flicking to Jae, measuring him in a glance sharp enough to slice through air. "You embarrass yourself as much as you embarrass him."
Jae’s smirk didn’t fade, a slow, deliberate curl of amusement playing across his face. "Hes on the floor wriggling like larva, I think he’s slightly more embarrassed than I am."
Byun’s laughter rang out then, low, sultry, and bright, a sound that carried across the hall like music in contrast to the tension.
He leaned slightly forward, eyes glittering, clearly enjoying the spectacle, the elegance of chaos meshing perfectly with her sense of theater.
Elise, still holding Jae’s arm, couldn’t hide a flicker of pride in her eyes, though her cheeks burned a soft pink. She didn’t scold him; she never did.
Her presence was calm, steady, and caring, a silent reassurance that in the storm of social eyes and fragile egos, someone was watching out for him without judgment.
Byun, pale but still with the faint trace of amusement returning, shook his head slightly, muttering into his wine. Even he couldn’t fully suppress the thrill. The hall had been shaken, tested, and every observer had felt the shift.
The music, tentative at first, stumbled back into rhythm. Strings hummed cautiously, woodwinds returned with soft notes, and soon the ensemble found a tentative tempo, allowing the murmurs to grow but not entirely drown the sound.
The nobles whispered louder than before, speculative and anxious. The sense of propriety had been pierced, and the energy of the evening transformed from polite celebration into a quiet, taut excitement.
Jae turned his back on the crushed noble and the simmering prince, slipping a hand casually through his hair. The movement was effortless, almost languid, but it carried authority.
He walked back toward the shadows at the edge of the hall, past Byun, past Tirel, past Yuna, his stride confident. Every step was deliberate, marking space, marking dominance without a word.
He had made his point.
xxx
The next day, the sparring grounds of the academy thrummed with energy. The stands were filled with students, their shouts overlapping into a roar that carried across the wide, sunlit field.
The air smelled faintly of sweat and dust, mixed with the tang of scorched stone from previous matches. Wide rings of inscribed stone glowed faintly beneath the sun, etched with runes designed to absorb the force of both magic and steel.
These circles were sacred in a sense, they were arenas where skill revealed itself, where reputations were forged or shattered.
"Team Jae versus Team Veylan!" Mrs. Lira’s voice carried effortlessly over the crowd. Her presence alone drew murmurs; even standing at the edge of the field, her ice-tinged aura seemed to cool the heat of anticipation, enforcing order without a word of command.
Jae stepped forward with his squad: Elise, Tirel, and Byun. His movement was effortless, deliberate, each step placing him in the optimal stance for both offense and defense.
Sun was absent from the stands, but Jae could feel the faint, unmistakable pull of his presence lingering at the edge of the grounds. The sunlight glinted across Jae’s blond hair, catching in a way that highlighted the sharp angles of his jaw and the faint curve of a confident smirk.
He brushed a hand through his hair almost unconsciously, the gesture calm but carrying weight, a signal that he was ready and in complete control.
Tirel leaned lightly forward, her red hair catching the light as she let her hands trace arcs in the air, fire threading along her fingertips in teasing, harmless wisps for now.
"You ready?" she asked casually, the edge of her voice flirtatious even as her eyes remained sharp, tracking the movements of the opposing squad.
Elise’s gaze flicked nervously to Jae, dark eyes wide but composed. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Just... be careful," she whispered, not scolding, only cautious. Her hands glowed faintly as her mana adjusted to be ready for support if needed.
Byun, leaning lazily against the edge of their circle, grinned faintly. "He always handles himself," he said, shadows curling slightly around his feet as if in anticipation. "You know me, though. I’ll cover the parts he leaves open."
Jae’s smirk widened faintly. "Then it’s a good thing I have someone who can manage the details," he said, voice calm, carrying that subtle dominance he wielded naturally.
The horn sounded.
Veylan’s squad surged into motion immediately. The noble’s spear cut through the air, reinforced with pulsing mana that twisted along its length like liquid steel.