OLD-WORLD EXTRA-Chapter 508: Dueling Bullies

The Academy's dueling arena was buzzing with the kind of energy that only came from something everyone secretly hoped to witness but never thought they'd actually see.

A cliched story as old as time and just as satisfying.

A victim fighting back against their bullies. Besting them and showing them their betters.

Though it lacked in the latter part, as no one cared for Arthur enough to be happy about his strike back, this story still fanned the rumors, making everyone interested.

After all, even when ignoring the context behind it, the duel was nothing ordinary.

Most were friendly clashes, little more than practice skirmishes for status or bragging rights. But this?

Arthur's challenge had weight, and everyone could feel it. Legendary by their standards.

It was a three versus one, a duel never seen before on Academy grounds.

At least not the first years.

Arthur wanted to prove a point to the Academy. A message.

"Don't fuck with me."

No one would mess with him after today. He would make sure of that.

These three would prove an example of those who tried.

And so, as the students crowded around, there was a constant murmur, ongoing even as the duelists stood in the arena, staring each other down.

Bets were being placed under the table, especially under Elite tables, and the staff pretended not to notice the unusual amounts of AUC circling around.

It was clear more than a few instructors had participated as well while finding convenient reasons to linger nearby.

There was something magnetic about all of this, simply too curious for them to ignore.

Most professors had already deemed Arthur dead in the first month, or expelled at best, but now?

They didn't know where to place him.

To see someone they discarded change so much in so little time made them question their abilities to spot talent.

Or were they right?

After all, this Arthur they looked at seemed so distant from the boy they once knew.

Were the rumors about him true?

A group of students had seen him enter Templar's church before he had gone all recluse, so many thought that God had blessed him.

Those more cynical believed he struck a secret deal for power, allowing those of higher skill to control his body through the augmentations, while others whispered about dark rituals, prayers, and the like.

A few simply thought that he'd gone mad, nearing cyberpsycho with all the implants he had installed.

Read 𝓁at𝙚st chapters at ƒrēenovelkiss.com Only.

If they could take a look inside Emir's mind, they would understand that most, if not all, of those rumors had some truth to them.

Arthur did get blessed, but not by god, but by his own ability, {Blessed's Plea}, one that gave him an Aether Core.

He did strike a deal for power, yet it wasn't by choice.

It was made for him, and he simply received the benefits.

His body could be controlled by his two AI friends-the main reason why he had gotten so good at martial arts all of a sudden.

And lastly, yes, he performed rituals and prayers, thanking Aether for its blessings, becoming more fanatical by the day.

The boy was no longer the Arthur they knew but an entirely different person.

A distant one.

As he stood there, cold, that became obvious to the professors, to everyone.

Something real had shifted in him, they could see it in the way his gaze was fixed on his three opponents, his posture almost indifferent.

It was like he was watching shadows, not actual people.

The three bullies looked... well, uncomfortable didn't even cover it.

They fidgeted, stealing nervous glances at each other, muttering under their breaths.

A few months ago, they would have been smirking, confident, maybe even dismissive.

But now? They looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here.

Everyone knew this wasn't about pride or sport.

This was Arthur settling a score, and the intensity in his eyes showed he wasn't here for a friendly scrap.

He was going to injure them, severely, and getting penalized didn't seem to matter to him.

'...Hm.'

Emir leaned against a pillar, watching it all unfold with a mix of curiosity and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

The level of change in Arthur intrigued him, though that wasn't enough for him to take time out of his extremely busy schedule and waste it on watching a duel.

He had a question and he wanted it answered.

Just how different would this duel be compared to the one in the novel?

Just how far had the boy come since his transformation?

Emir wanted to see that firsthand, experience the difference, feel the subtle changes, learn of the strings in this play, where they sat, how they reacted, moved, spoke, everything.

One day, he would need to control puppets more than the audience present here, so he needed to know just how his actions affected each little thing.

"Hey..."

A few seats below Emir, Aria whispered to Ava, her voice laced with skepticism.

"Do you think that guy actually stands a chance against them? I mean, all three?"

Ava shrugged, eyes glued to the scene, her usual cocky grin replaced with genuine curiousty.

"I don't know, but look at him. He doesn't seem worried. If anything, they're the ones who look like they're about to get sent to the chopping block."

"Mhm... true, what do you think, Sof?"

Surprisingly, Sofia was sitting next to them, her gaze studying Arthur with intense interest, like she was mentally cataloging his every move before the fight even began.

"He'll win."

Similar conversations were happening everywhere in the stadium, the students' excitement

infectious.

Even Elijah, who normally would never bother with anything related to Arthur, especially not with something as trivial as a grudge match, was here, his arms crossed, the faintest hint of a

smile on his face.

Though he hated the boy to the core, and certainly would've liked seeing him get beat up, he couldn't deny that his winning was undeniable.

Still, he'd never admit it.

Junior and Max, who sat next to him, felt the same. Even Quinn, who for some reason sat alone in an empty part of the stadium, saw him as the clear winner.

The outcome of the match was known, yet no one left, interested in how the process to get to that outcome would unfold.

And, as if to respond to that, the signal was finally given by the referee, raising his arm high to

the sky.

The arena quieted to a near silence, the only sounds present were the occasional shifting of

feet and whispered rustles.

"Begin."