The clandestine cabal of high-ranking nobles that held sway over various aspects of the school operated under the enigmatic moniker "The Luminar Conclave." This secret club, concealed within the shadows of influence, comprised a select group of individuals whose lineage and social standing granted them unparalleled power and privilege.
Within the hallowed halls of academia, The Luminar Conclave exercised subtle yet pervasive control, their influence extending into academic decisions, student affairs, and even disciplinary matters. Meetings of this exclusive society were held in concealed locations, far from prying eyes, where the nobles convened to discuss and enact their plans.
The Luminar Conclave's agenda was shrouded in secrecy, and their motives were known only to those who held the coveted invitation to join their clandestine ranks. The aura of prestige and authority surrounding this secretive society created an air of mystery and trepidation among the student body, as rumors circulated about the extent of their influence and the consequences of crossing their path.
As guardians of tradition and heritage, The Luminar Conclave wielded their status with a sense of entitlement, often steering the course of events to align with their own interests. Those within their esteemed circle enjoyed privileges beyond the reach of ordinary students, and the consequences of defying their unspoken rules were whispered about in hushed tones.
The Luminar Conclave, with its hidden machinations and silent puppetry, cast a long and looming shadow over the school, ensuring that the influence of the elite remained unchallenged and their secrets well-guarded.
…
"He's not here yet…" Marlene muttered.
"He'll be here soon. Don't worry," Calix replied.
Not even a few minutes later and Silas came busting through the front doors, entering the classroom which had been shaped into an arena, and settling down right next to his friends. Currently, matches weren't going to start for another five minutes, so the trio had time to figure out any kinks in their teamwork.
"What we practiced yesterday was shit. We'll just use the matches to figure out our best combinations. It's not like we're the worst goddamn team in this class," Calix suggested.
"What? Let's just practice what we did yesterday and then we'll figure shit out from there."
"Dude, we SUCKED yesterday. Especially with Silas having no magic."
"Guys," Silas spoke up, cutting through the tense air surrounding this brittle team. "Let me handle the first match by myself. I want to try something out."
Both Calix and Marlene snapped their heads towards each other.
"This guy's crazy."
"For sure…"
Although they were disturbed by how stupid this sounded, they couldn't convince themselves to talk Silas out of it further. The calm mystique surrounding him sent shivers down their spines, enough of a sign to tell that maybe he did have something up his sleeve.
And they didn't even have to wait long to see this new mystique put into action as they were instantly called up to the arena, representing the first match.
"Marlene, Calix, and Silas! You three will be facing Stevenson, Abigail, and Roth!"
Silas, Marlene, and Calix stepped into the center circle of the arena, their eyes focused on three formidable opponents—Stevenson, Abigail, and Roth. Each of them emanated an air of confidence and determination.
Stevenson, a tall and lean figure, had dark hair slicked back with a few unruly strands falling across his forehead. His steampunk attire, adorned with intricate gears and leather accents, suggested a keen interest in technology. Stevenson's piercing blue eyes hinted at a strategic mind and a readiness for the upcoming clash.
Abigail, on the other hand, exuded an aura of mystique. Her long, flowing hair, dyed a deep shade of indigo, framed a face marked by subtle yet captivating features. She wore a steampunk outfit with elegant, swirling patterns reminiscent of ancient glyphs. Abigail's eyes, a mesmerizing shade of violet, hinted at a proficiency in magical arts, leaving an air of unpredictability about her.
Roth, a sturdy and muscular individual, had a shaved head, revealing a series of intricate tattoos that adorned his scalp. His physique suggested a focus on physical strength and combat proficiency. Clad in steampunk armor with reinforced plates, Roth emanated a sense of raw power, his sharp gaze fixed on the opponents before him.
As the two trios faced off in the center circle, the anticipation in the air was palpable. The clash of skills and abilities was about to unfold, with each participant poised for a challenging and exhilarating confrontation… or that's what most expected.
Both teams were sent to polar opposite sides of the center ring and as the remaining students backed up toward the edges of the entire classroom. The mysterious professor whose name nobody ever knew took a step into the center of the ring. He raised his pale hand ever so gently before swinging it down, marking the beginning of the match.
"Okay… do your thing."
Before we continue with the fight, we have to talk about the four people lying amongst the crowd of kids ready to watch this match: the previously mentioned "great four" of this combat class. The kids who everybody wanted to team up with just because of how strong they were.
Eleanor, Victor, Lilith, and Lucas. All four of them were grouped up. They weren't in a single group together, but for now, they were roughly in the same area, eyeing each other as currently they were spies. Spying on who exactly? Well, obviously the new kid on the block: Silas von Sterling.
"He doesn't have much steam. From what I've heard he's got an artificial heart though," Lucas spoke up first.
"Must've had a bad roll on life…" Lilith scoffed arrogantly while also chuckling just a little bit.
"That means we have to watch out for him. He may not have any magic, but he could be doping with Necros," Eleanor smiled.
"He's a small fry either way. If he doesn't have magic, we might as well already be writing our report right now-"
SWOOSH
Victor was cut off by the sound of a resonant gust sweeping through the facility. And to their surprise, everybody, including the four children taking notes, found Silas with a small gust in his right palm.