Chapter 133: A Commoner’s Battle
The assessment continued after Lilith’s victory. Sylas announced the results, his voice echoing through the Coliseum.
The second match of the ninth group took place after, landing in a draw.
The time limit came, as one of the opponents was already suppressing the other. The other, who knew this, was smart enough to devise a strategy that could keep him in the battle while wasting time. That led to the draw.
The battle continued until the 11th group’s first battle, which shocked one opponent to the extent that he was grinning.
"Evan Dusk vs Alaric Vane."
Sylas called both candidates out as the screen flickered to life.
Evan stepped into the arena. He was average height, lean but not skinny. His black hair was messy and unkempt, falling over his forehead in uneven strands. His eyes were dark, calm, and watchful. He wore the standard academy uniform, but it looked plain on him. Nothing fancy. Nothing that stood out.
He looked like a commoner. From his aura to his worn-out boots, everything about him screamed ordinary. His black hair was messy and unkempt, falling over his forehead in uneven strands. His eyes were dark, calm, and watchful. He wore the standard academy uniform, but it looked plain on him. Nothing fancy. Nothing that stood out.
A few students in the stands whispered, wondering how someone like him had made it this far.
Alaric Vane walked in from the opposite side. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes. His hair was a pale blond, slicked back neatly, not a single strand out of place. His uniform was the same as everyone else’s, but it fit him differently. It looked expensive. Tailored. Like it had been made just for him.
He was from a noble clan. That much was obvious from the way he carried himself. His chin was high, his gaze steady, his steps measured. He didn’t look at the crowd. He didn’t look at Sylas. He only looked at Evan.
His lips curled into a faint smirk.
The students leaned forward. This was going to be interesting. A commoner against a noble. A nobody against a somebody.
Evan didn’t seem bothered. He just stood there, hands at his sides, his dark eyes fixed on Alaric.
Lucien did what he always did. He scanned both of them, their details appearing before him on the system interface.
He wasn’t that surprised when he laid his eyes on Alaric Vane. The guy had an SS-Rank Talent and three S-Ranked Talents. Impressive, but not shocking. Nobles bred strong bloodlines. That’s what they did.
But when he saw Evan’s status, his eyes unconsciously widened. It shook Lucien. For the first time since he had come to this world, this was the first time he was this shocked.
Evan Evans had a physique called the Seven-Colored Body. He had a total of seven SSS-Ranked Talents. Yes. SSS-Ranked Talents.
This was what surprised Lucien. Someone having not one but seven SSS-Ranked Talents, and from the looks of it, they all came from his physique.
The Seven-Colored Body consisted of seven origin elements: fire origin element, water origin element, wind origin element, earth origin element, metal origin element, wood origin element, and thunder origin element.
All at SSS-Ranked Talent.
Lucien’s gaze settled on Evan. The guy had the vibe of a commoner, looking like someone weak. But all of this was just a shell to conceal him.
And without any suspense, there was already a winner. Even though talent doesn’t define everything, in this case, the fact that even the academy was unaware of his talents up to now showed that he wasn’t a simple person to deal with.
Evan was like the Heaven Blessed.
From the system, Lucien found out that the Seven-Colored Body could be upgraded to a Nine-Colored Body. If that happened, Evan would gain two more SSS-Ranked Talents: the light origin element and the dark origin element.
Lucien leaned back in his seat. His expression was calm, but his mind was racing. He was meeting someone on par with him in talent.
The match hadn’t even started yet, but Lucien already knew the outcome. Alaric Vane was about to learn a very hard lesson.
The students continued to whisper, completely unaware of what was about to unfold. They saw a commoner and a noble and they expected a one-sided beatdown.
They were right about the beatdown. They just had the wrong guy.
In Aethelgard, there was still a distinction between a commoner and a noble, and it was a great one. Lucien and almost everyone he had met was born in a noble clan, an ancient clan.
Commoners found it hard to survive in this world of survival. Some joined the army of a noble clan. Most formed mercenary groups. And only the talented ones entered an academy.
The Aethel Academy wasn’t the only academy in Aethelgard, but it was the number one academy, proclaimed to have the strongest talents and Originators.
And it wasn’t disappointing, seeing someone who had seven SSS-Ranked talents, but for a commoner to have it, wasn’t something funny as his safety is impeded.
"Begin." Sylas commenced the beginning of the match.
The crowd of Honor students were focused on this match, even though all had an expected result in their minds. They saw a commoner against a noble. They saw a nobody against a somebody.
Alaric stretched his hands and summoned his Armament. A saber appeared in his grip, its blade curved and gleaming. The metal was dark, almost black, with faint silver runes etched along the edge. It hummed with power, a low, vibrating thrum that made the nearest students lean back.
As for Evan, he had taken the academy’s sword Armament.
The plain, standard-issue blade. Nothing special, nothing fancy. Just a simple sword that any student could borrow.
He was the second person to do so, which led to not much expectation from how he looked. A few students snickered. Others shook their heads. Some felt pity for him.
Alaric’s smirk widened. He twirled his saber once, the blade catching the light.
"Really?" he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "You’re going to fight me with that?"
Evan kept silent but nodded. This made Alaric smile, as he raised his saber up.
Even though he didn’t take Evan seriously, he didn’t take him lightly. Getting into Aethel Academy and being among the Honor students wasn’t something you could do just by talk and connections.
But as someone from a noble clan, there was a superiority complex that they grew up with.
An Elven Princess. A Dragon Prince. Children from powerful noble clans. A commoner didn’t fit in that picture.
He swung his saber downward in a quick, brutal arc. The blade came at Evans like a falling star, fast and unstoppable, aimed to cut him down where he stood.
Evan didn’t move, his eyes didn’t flinch.
The saber came closer, inches from his skin.
Then the academy sword moved. It was fast, controlled, precise. It came up before him and parried the attack.
The clash of the blades rang out, humming in response. The sound echoed through the silent arena, sharp and clear.
Alaric’s eyes widened.
The students gasped.
Evans still hadn’t moved his feet. He stood rooted in place, his plain sword locked against Alaric’s gleaming saber. His dark eyes were calm. His breathing was steady.
Alaric pushed harder, putting more weight behind his blade. The saber trembled, its runes flaring bright. But Evan didn’t budge. He held his ground like a mountain, his plain sword unwavering.
"What..." Alaric muttered, his smirk completely gone now.
Evan tilted his head slightly.
"Was that supposed to be impressive?"
His calm voice surprised his fellow students. Such an attack seemed simple, but at that moment, Alaric had used his saber qi in his strike.
But similarly parrying the attack, Evan released his sword qi. Both had control over their sword qi, not making it rampant but hidden. If one was careless, one wouldn’t know when they had attacked with it.
Alaric took a step back, seeing he wasn’t successful at the first attack.
"Well, that was just a warm-up. Let’s get things started."
Alaric willed his Originat as he controlled it.
A light green circular rune appeared before him as wind blew. The rune spun slowly at first, then faster, its edges sharp and jagged. The wind picked up around him, swirling and twisting, kicking up dust from the arena floor. The students in the front row felt the gust wash over them, warm and dry.
"Wind Vale."
The rune pulsed once, then the wind roared.
A massive gust exploded from the rune, compressed and sharp. It shot toward Evan like a blade made of air, screaming and rolling across the arena. The stone floor beneath its path began to crack, thin lines spreading outward like spiderwebs. The wind tore at everything in its way, howling with killing intent in an unstoppable manner.