Chapter 277: Victory!
The cool, sterile air of the preparation room did little to soothe the slight, lingering tension in my shoulders.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the cuffs of the standard-issue Academy combat gear, a sleek, form-fitting black and midnight-blue tunic woven with light mana-conductive threads. It was light, durable, and didn’t restrict my movement.
I let out a slow, heavy exhale, staring at my reflection.
"So the time comes to this, huh?" I muttered to the empty room.
A duel on the second day of the announcement?
With how much I want to just avoid these things, but I couldn’t afford to hold back a victory here. If I wanted the endless waves of glory-seeking nobles to back off, this fight needed to be decisive. It needed to be brutal.
With a thought, I flicked my wrist, mentally executing the command to open my status window. The holographic blue interface materialized seamlessly in the air before me, the crisp text glowing in the dim room.
[STATUS]
Name: Jin Raith
Age: 17
Class: Debugger
Level: 30
EXP: 4,560/7,400
Rank: B
MC (Mana Capacity): 446/700
Affinity: Dark Lightning
HP: 3,100/3,100
MP: 1,650/1,650 (660 + 990)
STR: 60
VIT: 60
AGI: 99
INT: 120
WIS: 65
LUK: 39
Allocation Points: 0
Skills:
Active: Light Orb, Alchemy (Intermediate), Debug Vision, Rolling Thunder, Void Thunder
Passive: Poison Resistance (100%), Social Engineering, Iron Will, Mana Reservoir, Combat Analysis
Combat: Orthodox Fang (Mastered), Lightning Fang (Proficiency: Mastered)
Administrator Mode
---
I closed the window with a swipe of my hand, did a quick series of shoulder rolls, and stretched my legs one last time. The dull ache from last night was entirely gone. I walked toward the heavy iron doors at the end of the room, pushing them open as the loud, roaring hum of the arena washed over me.
I stepped straight out into the Dueling Ring.
The arena was a massive, subterranean amphitheater carved directly out of the bedrock beneath the Academy. In the center lay a wide, circular platform constructed from reinforced, mana-absorbent granite, surrounded by a shimmering, translucent barrier grid to protect the audience.
And the audience was massive. Because this was the literal first official ranking challenge of the semester, and a clash between the Rank 2 and the Rank 11 nearly the entire first-year batch had crowded into the stone tiers.
I swept my gaze across the stands. In the premium front-row seats, Kyle was leaning over the railing, shouting something incoherent while waving a fist. Sira sat next to him, looking deeply stressed, while Tobias calmly adjusted his glasses, watching with detached academic interest.
Emma sat on my right side of the stands, her hands neatly folded over her lap, offering me a sweet, completely untroubled wave. Across the arena, Torren Graves sat perfectly still, his arms crossed, his dark eyes tracking my every movement like a hawk.
From the opposite tunnel, Julian Vance stepped onto the stone platform.
He wore the same combat gear, but he had a look of absolute, unshakeable confidence plastering his sharp face. He cracked his knuckles, a faint, visible flicker of amber fire dancing across his fingertips as he sneered at me. To him, this wasn’t a fight; it was a public correction of a clerical error.
A senior faculty member, acting as the official referee, stepped into the dead center of the ring. He wore a heavy grey robe, a massive runic staff gripped firmly in his hand.
"Settle down!" the referee’s voice thundered, magically amplified to echo across the stone tiers, instantly silencing the roaring crowd.
He looked between the two of us, his expression grim and completely professional.
"This is an official Academy Ranking Duel for the First-Year Brackets," the referee declared.
"The challenger, Julian Vance, Rank 11, versus the defender, Jin Raith, Rank 2. The rules are absolute: The duel concludes upon surrender, physical incapacitation, or a critical barrier breach of a student’s personal safety ward. Lethal force is strictly prohibited. Any intentional violation will result in immediate expulsion and magical sealing."
The referee raised his staff high into the air, the heavy runic crystal at the tip beginning to glow with a bright, pulsing blue light.
"Both combatants, take your stances!"
I loosely gripped the standard-issue practice sword, bringing the blade up into the balanced, opening stance.
I kept my weight centered, my feet firmly planted on the reinforced granite of the platform.
Across the ring, Julian took a much more aggressive, theatrical stance. He held his practice blade casually in one hand, while his left palm burst into a steady, crackling corona of amber flames.
"You know, Raith," Julian sneered, his voice carrying easily across the quiet arena.
"You should have just surrendered in the mess hall. Saving yourself the public humiliation would have been the smartest move you’ve made all week. Enjoying the view from rank two? Because it’s a long way down."
But I didn’t give him a response. I didn’t even blink. My eyes remained locked on his center of mass, my Debugger interface already overlaying his body with structural weak points and tracking his unstable mana fluctuations.
Seeing my absolute silence, Julian’s smirk twitched, a flash of genuine annoyance crossing his features.
The referee looked between us, saw that both combatants were set, and violently brought his glowing staff down against the stone floor.
"BEGIN!"
"Let’s see how long you can keep that blank look on your face!" Julian roared, instantly thrusting his left palm forward.
Instead of closing the distance, he threw a barrage of localized fireballs, aiming to box me in and force me to panic.
"What’s the matter, Raith? Too scared to move? Did you leave your girls’ skirt behind today?"
This bastard.
He kept throwing taunts alongside the flames, desperately trying to get under my skin, to provoke me into making a reckless, emotional mistake.
But I remained a stone wall. I didn’t reply. I didn’t even grimace. I simply executed a series of tight, minimal sideteps, letting the erratic fireballs crash harmlessly against the stone behind me.
My utter lack of friction made Julian’s impatience rapidly spike. His breathing grew shallow, his movements turning noticeably sloppier as the sheer humiliation of being ignored in front of the entire first-year batch got the better of him.
"Hold still, you rat!" Julian snarled, his mana signature flaring violently as he channeled a massive, concentrated flame wave right toward the center of the ring.
Perfect.
I didn’t dodge this time. I tightly gripped the hilt of my sword.
[Rolling Thunder!]
Black, volatile lightning violently erupted along the wooden edge of my blade. With a single, explosive horizontal slash, I intercepted the incoming wave of fire.
The dark, high-density lightning didn’t just block the flames; it aggressively chewed through the elemental structure, completely dispersing the fire into a harmless cloud of black smoke and scattering ash.
Through the haze, Julian’s eyes went wide with sudden shock.
Before he could recover his stance, I mentally breached the local parameters of the arena grid.
{Target User: Julian Vance — Parameter: Agility — Apply Debuff: -40}
{Self User: Jin Raith — Parameter: Agility — Edit Override: +50%}
The shift was instantaneous. To the audience, it looked like Julian had suddenly frozen in thick mud, while I vanished into a blur of dark static.
The match instantly turned into a brutal, one-sided execution.
I closed the distance in a fraction of a second, appearing right inside Julian’s blind spot. He tried to swing his practice sword, but his movements were so comically slowed down by the system override that it was painful to watch.
Thwack!
My practise blade connected heavily with his ribs, the impact ringing out like a crack of thunder.
"Argh!" Julian gasped, his breath violently leaving him.
I didn’t stop at this.
Moving with rhythmic, ruthless precision, I executed the Lightning Fang sequence.
A heavy strike to his right shoulder disarmed his sword, followed by a swift, brutal sweep to his ankles that completely sent him airborne. Before he could even begin to fall, I pivoted on my heel, channeling a small, concentrated burst of Rolling Thunder into the flat of my blade, and slammed it directly into his chest.
The kinetic shockwave, combined with the explosive lightning, blasted Julian straight across the granite platform.
He skipped twice over the stone like a flat rock on water, crashed straight through the translucent barrier grid, and collapsed into a pathetic, unconscious heap on the dirt floor outside the ring.
The entire subterranean amphitheater fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Nobody screamed. Nobody cheered. The absolute, casual brutality of the takedown left the entire student body frozen.
I didn’t wait for the referee to officially raise my hand. I didn’t wait for a closing ceremony, and I didn’t even offer a single glance toward anyone else in the stands.
I just casually deactivated the lightning on my sword, spun on my heel, and walked straight back into the darkness of the preparation tunnel, leaving the stunned crowd behind.