Look at the Time

The Academy's Duel Grounds were located in the northeast corner of the Academy's sprawling lands, consisting of four round, raised, white stone platforms with stairs on two ends and arranged in two rows of two columns.

Surrounding these four platforms were the stands, where the audience could watch the proceedings. The four platforms were entirely encircled by these metal stands, only accessible via the small corridors set in the base of the stands' east and west sides.

Fate and his opponent, Venden Grendeven, stood on one of these platforms, the latter staring at Fate with the bloodthirsty gaze of a lion sizing up a deer.

Fate returned the stare with his own placid expression, not too bothered one way or another by the man's palpable murderous intent. It's not like the rules allowed either duelist to kill the other. This was still a school, after all.

To Fate's left and Venden's right was a referee, an older man in silver robes with a bored expression on his face. His job was to make sure this duel, sanctioned by the Academy, followed the proper rules.

Venden Grendeven was a Mage with the same hair and eye color as Kathrin, and the same snide smirk. While he was dressed in light, unrestrictive clothes made for nobles like Fate was, there was a clear difference between their attire.

Fate's clothes were simple, high quality and yet as drab as a commoner's clothes. The sergeant, who he got this particular set of clothes from, wasn't a fan of flashy silk and embroidered sleeves.

Venden, on the other hand, couldn't flaunt his status enough. While not covered in outrageous jewelry or gold-spun fabric, his clothes were bright and flashy, the shirt sporting mixes of green and black that flowed together into beautiful patterns of planets and stars, accented by daring black or green stripes.

If Fate was more knowledgeable about this sort of thing, he would notice many of Ziobrun's own constellations dotting the man's shirt.

He was pushing nineteen, which meant he was a first-year just like Fate, and his aura showed the world his status as a Journeyman. While a normal person might be apprehensive about the advantage this would bring, Fate was too busy going over possible scenarios in his head to end this quickly.

'His sister can teleport, that definitely wasn't just speed. So the Grendevens probably have Universal Facets. Or he could have a Power Facet. Let's see, Power has Speed, Strength, Motion…'

The more Fate thought about it, the more he relaxed. None of these had any mind-altering powers, and were almost purely physical in nature. His skill should work just fine, then. Even with these thoughts, though, Fate kept himself ready for anything.

Overconfidence had no place in a fight.

Fate was just slightly weaker than Venden Grendeven, who himself was barely a step into the Journeyman Stage. Fate, naturally, had no idea how impressive that was, but still kept this small power disparity in mind.

It had to be remembered that on Ziobrun, even the greatest of geniuses with unnatural inclinations toward their Facets took at least six months to leap from Apprentice to Journeyman.

It's also important to note that every Mage was forced to wait until they were eighteen years old to unlock the power of their Facets. Some may be a Magician before their Awakening, but there had never been a Mage in all of Ziobrun's recorded history to Awaken their Facets before their eighteenth birthday.

This meant that Venden had become a Journeyman in less than a year, well below the average time of two years that most took.

Fate didn't focus on that, however. His mind was too busy chalking up scenarios that Venden's potential Facet could cause. Confident or not, he always took his fights seriously. His life or well-being tended to be on the line half the time, so it usually paid off.

"You nobles sure do love putting too much stock into words," Fate said, deciding to rile his opponent up a little. "It's a wonder you can get anything done when you're too busy getting pissed off at every single word someone says."

Venden's sneer only deepened. "You wouldn't understand the importance honor has to our noble household."

Venden neglected to mention that this wasn't a matter of honor. This entire farce was engineered by his sister to get in good with the Settan boy. Having a descendant of the Empress as a friend of their family would open many doors for them, and may even allow Venden the chance to succeed his father as head of the household.

If that meant beating up some uppity commoner brat, who was he to say no?

"Whatever. We doing this or not?"

Fate's opponent let out a derisive snort as he waved to the stands. They were completely packed, hundreds of students sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with each other and holding up their crystal balls to record the entire thing.

It was a classless Friday afternoon, and one of the more prominent noble households had issued a challenge to save their face. How could they not attend?

"These men and women will be the witnesses to your fall," Venden said with a smile. "Once I send you to the nurse's office for the next three weeks, they will be the ones to spread your defeat to everyone they know."

"Uh-huh, sure. What are the rules of this thing? Never dueled before."

"You truly are a commoner," Venden said snidely. "No weapons are allowed. Only ourselves and our Skills can be used. The duel ends at an admission of defeat or when the opponent is rendered unconscious."

"Sounds good. Ready when you are," Fate said as he shooed away a fly.

"I'm ready as well," Venden told the referee.

The older gentleman's gray eyes flicked from Venden to Fate and back again. "No weapons, no killing. The duel stops when defeat is determined by me, and not a second later. Failure to follow these rules will result in suspension from the Academy until further notice. Are both contestants ready?"

"Yes," Venden said.

"Yes," Fate said soon after.

"Then… Begin!"

Venden shot forward in an instant, fast but not superhumanly so. Fate marked the Speed and Motion Facets as "unlikely" within his mind as he stepped forward to meet the charge.

Venden's bullrush transitioned seamlessly into a jumping kick as he broke his forward momentum, the kick sailing straight for Fate's face.

A confident smirk appeared on Fate's face as the kick flew toward him.