“It feels like something changed,” Darius said, his expression serious.

  Nox nodded. “Alaric is different.”

  Shira, always more attuned to subtle shifts, felt it even more deeply. She whispered, “His demeanor’s changed.”

  Their heads turned toward her, expecting a deeper explanation. All she gave them was a single word:

  “Watch.”

  They sighed in unison and turned back to the fight.

  Alaric swung his sword lightly. Flames slowly began to creep along the blade, wrapping it in fire—only it wasn’t ordinary flame. Unlike Darius’ previous blaze, Alaric’s fire shifted from deep orange-red to streaks of blue, like heat pushed to its limit.

  Nova watched, intrigued, his gaze fixed and thoughtful.

  ‘This must be a stronger version of Darius’ fire manipulation’, he mused silently.

  “This is as far as I’ve gotten with fire,” Alaric said, a soft smile playing on his lips—then vanishing, replaced by a hardened stare. “I’m not holding back anymore. So… Boss, don’t take this personal.”

  Nova chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. “Don’t worry. Even if you beat me half to death, I won’t hold it against you.”

  Alaric’s eyes narrowed.

  “I hope you won’t take this personal either.”

  In a flash, Nova dashed forward. The ground beneath him cracked and shattered from the sudden force—just for a moment, he’d let his power slip.

  In a split second, a spear shot toward Alaric’s chest—fast, precise, lethal. But this time, Alaric parried it with ease, his blade twisting against the shaft with practiced grace. Then he struck back, fire erupting wildly from his sword, each swing leaving streaks of flame in its wake.

  Nova didn’t flinch. He surged forward with reckless abandon, a grin tugging at his lips. He wasn’t here to win—he was here to feel the fight, to enjoy every second of it.

  Steel clashed against steel as the two returned to their violent rhythm, blow for blow, step for step. Alaric’s blade scorched Nova again and again, flames licking at his flesh, threatening to consume him whole. But Nova’s spear struck true as well—tearing through armor, puncturing Alaric’s body over and over.

  [Spear Thrust proficiency increased]

  [Spear Jab proficiency increased]

  [Regeneration proficiency increased]

  [Keen Reflexes proficiency increased]

  [Momentum Streak proficiency increased]

  Notification chimes rang nonstop in Nova’s mind, a relentless stream of warnings he could no longer ignore. Compared to this, his battle with the Sky Serpent felt like a warm-up—child’s play.

  Shockwaves burst from the battlefield, far stronger than before, tearing into the foundations of Nova’s villa. Cracks spread like spiderwebs, and the tremors didn’t stop there—they rippled outward, creeping dangerously close to the surrounding villas.

  Students nearby felt it instantly. Panic set in as they rushed from their homes, eyes wide, instincts screaming.

  Up on the ridge, the watching generals stood frozen in awe.

  “Monsters…” Adira muttered under her breath, barely audible—but not quiet enough. Her colleagues snapped their eyes toward her, faces painted with disbelief, a silent Are you trying to die? hanging in the air.

  Realizing the weight of her words, Adira blushed, eyes dropping to the ground as she fell silent.

  To the side, Shira appeared calm—but her clenched fists betrayed her. “We might need to retreat soon,” she said, voice low.

  “Why?” asked Malachi, eyes still locked on the battlefield, mesmerized by the unnatural blue flames dancing across scorched earth.

  Nox answered instead, his steps already retreating. “Because they’ve stopped caring about their surroundings.”

  Seeing Nox quietly distance himself—and the two combatants fighting as if the world around them didn’t exist—the other generals exchanged brief glances and silently followed suit, retreating until they reached the villa’s entrance.

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  From outside, the sound of panicked shouts echoed through the air. Students were flooding into the streets, chaos blooming as alarm spread through the academy. Nothing like this had ever happened before. But the generals didn’t flinch. They watched, captivated. As for Nova and Alaric… they couldn’t hear a thing.

  They were locked in a world of their own.

  Alaric stood, blood soaking his torn clothes, his expression focused, unrelenting, his mind consumed by the singular goal of victory.

  Across from him, Nova grinned wildly despite the raw burns scattered across his skin. A low, manic chuckle escaped him every so often, like he was savoring every blow, every near-miss.

  “Keep it up!” Nova shouted, lunging forward with a sudden jab, his spear flashing toward every opening he could find.

  Alaric met each thrust with steady precision, parrying blow after blow. “I should be the one saying that,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  With a vicious kick to the stomach, Nova was sent crashing into a nearby tree, shattering it upon impact.

  Alaric didn’t hesitate.

  Seizing the moment, he sprinted toward his boss, his sword cutting through the air in a swift, deadly arc aimed straight at Nova’s left arm—intending to sever his opponent’s dominant hand.

  Nova saw the intent in his general’s eyes. In a flash, he exploded out of the wreckage of the tree, splintered wood scattering in every direction. He barely had time to twist, before he watched as Alaric’s blade cleaved through the trunk with terrifying precision. Flames wrapped around the severed wood, consuming it within seconds, leaving nothing behind but smoldering ash.

  Nova couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “I need to learn that.”

  Alaric’s gaze snapped toward him, a determined glint in his eyes as he closed the distance, charging once more into the melee.

  Outside, several students had gathered, their nervous expressions visible as the battle inside the courtyard raged on.

  “Did anyone call the professors?” a young man in his late teens asked, his voice urgent.

  A calmer figure next to him nodded. “Someone went to get them. They should be here any minute.”

  The first guy looked around, his concern growing. “What do you think is going on? Why are they fighting like this?”

  “I don’t know,” the second guy admitted, shaking his head with uncertainty.

  The girl standing beside them, curious but cautious, asked, “Anyone have any guesses?”

  The young man shrugged, frustration edging his voice. “I’m just trying to figure that out myself.”

  The other guy, expression unreadable, chose to remain silent.

  They were the first three students to rush out of their villas to gather quickly. Meanwhile, there were four others—those who lived further away—they lingered on the opposite side of the road, watching with a detached amusement, like spectators at a grand show they commented on everything that was happening.

  Moments later, a figure in the familiar teacher’s uniform with long brown hair came rushing toward the three standing just outside the villa in question. As soon as the students recognized him, a shift in the air occurred: the three, seeing him approaching them, immediately straightened, their expressions turning respectful. Even the four standing further off didn’t dare to show anything less than reverence.

  “What’s happening here?” The teacher’s voice was calm.

  The three students opened their mouths simultaneously, but what came out was a jumble of disjointed words, nothing coherent. Their panic was evident, but their attempts to explain only added to the confusion.

  With a long, exasperated sigh, the teacher raised a hand, pointing to the second student—the one who appeared calmer than the others. “You. Brief me on the situation.”

  The second student snapped to attention, nodding sharply. “Yes, teacher.” He took a breath before starting his recount.

  He then began to recount what had happened.

  It started with distant shouts that quickly escalated into crashing sounds and flashes of light. Shockwaves followed—initially swaying the trees, but soon shattering windows and cracking walls. At that point, the four students decided to leave their villas and send one of them to call for help, but the chaos never ceased.

  “…and here we are. Th—” The student’s words were abruptly cut off, swallowed by the deafening clang of metal, followed immediately by a shockwave so forceful it further broke the the walls of the villas.

  The teacher, having pieced together the situation and now feeling the chaos firsthand, took a sharp breath and made his decision. He turned toward the three students, his voice firm but calm.

  “Wait here.”

  Without another word, he rushed toward the source of the clash.

  Meanwhile, in the courtyard, the sound of Alaric and Nova’s weapons meeting in a full-force strike reverberated through the air. Both men’s arms went numb from the impact. The sheer power of the collision sent shockwaves that tore through the ground, ripping up trees and stripping every blade of grass within a ten-meter radius. What remained was scorched earth, blackened and charred by the flames that followed.

  ‘This is fun,’ Nova thought, his grin widening as he smoothly shifted back into his stance, thrusting his spear forward.

  Alaric didn’t miss a beat. With equal fluidity, he slashed again, the flames dancing along his blade.

  But as the two continued their brutal exchange, something caught Alaric’s attention. In a split second, he noticed an opening in Nova’s stance—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable to an experienced fighter. It was the kind of mistake a beginner would make, and yet, it was a gap so easily fixable that it made him pause for a brief moment, his mind racing with questions.

  How did he make such a mistake?

  Is he baiting me?

  If I don’t take this opening, the fight will stall.

  Doubt tangled in Alaric’s mind, but he cut through it quickly. His focus sharpened, his thoughts narrowing as he made a decisive choice.

  I need to take this.

  With unwavering resolve, he took a step forward, gathering as much mana as he could into his blade. He pushed beyond his limits, feeling the familiar strain but also the surge of power. His flames roared to life, their range and intensity growing exponentially as they engulfed the sword in a fiery blaze.

  In front of him Nova’s lips curled into a subtle smirk. 'I’m glad you took it.'

  With the full force of his resolve, Alaric swung his sword down, the flames blazing toward Nova with an unstoppable intensity.

  But just as the strike was about to land, a voice pierced through the chaos, cutting through the fury of their battle

  “NOVA.”

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