With her bag of school supplies over her shoulder, Ranni exited Class 1-A.
Out in the hallway, there was a pair of eyes immediately drawn to her.
"Can I be real with you?" Mark said, standing up and walking over to Ranni's side.
Ranni continued forward down the hall without care. Upon hearing the completion of his sentence, she stopped, turned, and then looked at him dead in the eyes.
With extremely exaggerated movements, she extended her left arm and firmly planted her finger on the watch's screen. Recording. Again.
"Yeah, go for it," Ranni said with a quirky, stern sarcasm.
"Oh, no. It isn't about that."
Ranni tapped her watch once more to turn off the recording, then turned and continued walking down the hallway, the pair's footsteps echoing against the marble.
"What do you want?" she asked as Mark followed beside her.
"Well," Mark exhaled. "I'm flat broke. I have around 3 Silvers to my name. And as a wealthy Duchess, how should I go about making money?"
"How should you or how could you?"
"Let's start with legal first."
"Did you try begging your adoptive church?"
"I've cut all ties."
"Really?" Ranni asked.
Mark paused, taking a second to choose his next words very carefully.
"Alright, mostly. I'm independent. I can't rely on them," Mark replied, lying through vague statements—he didn't know his backstory.
"Well, I'd imagine you'd want to go hunting."
"Yeah," Mark conceded, though with hesitation. "but issue with that is—"
"Was 3 Silvers all you got for selling that stolen ingredient to the Underground in Straw Ridge?" Ranni interrupted.
"What? Of course not. I was there to buy, not sell."
"Is that why there's a Kolzig-Bondra-issued cloak with your name on it now circulating in the Underground?"
'Shit, she really must have paid that investigator well…'
"I just was short on a couple of Coppers and that bastard of a Skill merchant got the better of me. That's all.'
"Is that so?"
"Yes. That's so."
The two pushed the exit doors open, a gust of late summer air gently blowing through their faces.
"To me, this just seems like you're in a pickle and you want me to bail you out with my status," Ranni condemned.
"No. Nothing like that," Mark rejected. "It isn't 'bailing' if I intend to earn it."
"Seems like you have an idea. What is it?"
"How can I get an Excursion Pass from you?" Mark asked, his tone solid and determined.
Tons of other students stared with wide eyes at the pair—though Mark didn't seem to notice. His eyes were trained on Ranni.
Ranni only looked at Mark from her periphery, keeping her head high and locked forward.
"I don't know. You have nothing to offer me," Ranni looked him up and down, then rested her eyes forward once more as she shut his aspirations down.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really need an Excursion Pass to make money… what the hell can I offer her? All I have is information…'
But there were no grand revelations in the novel. No secret formulas to mana disease, no grand scheme of the gods or plot affecting the Luikots. Nothing to bail Mark out.
There were many major conflicts and small arcs with key information, but all were unrelated.
He had information on valuable Items, but giving those to her would open up many cans of worms.
It was clear to Mark: that these characters were much more capable and critical than those in the novel—now that they were real.
While he was initially stumped, there was one idea that kept growing in the back of his mind. One he ignored due to the personal moral implications.
"I can… offer myself," Mark proposed, though with reluctance and uncertainty.
"…And you mean that how?" Ranni replied with a raised brow.
"A commitment to the Luikots Guild."
…
"You think you're worthy, not only of the admission to the Luikots Guild, but a down payment?" Ranni questioned.
"I know I am."
Ranni looked at him from the corner of her eye once more.
"Bold. But baseless."
…
Ranni didn't continue. The two walked in silence, nearing closer to the dormitories.
"Look," Mark went on. "How can I—"
"You should pay some attention to your surroundings," she interrupted.
'What?'
When Mark ripped his gaze free from Ranni and looked forward, he reacted with a confused repulsion.
Along with several groups of students glancing at them as they passed, there was a larger herd directly in front of them; as if they were heading straight for Mark and Ranni.
Because they were.
The herd surrounded one lanky boy. He had long black hair that reached his shoulders, yet parted in front.
While the herd of students had playful, sneering looks, the lanky boy had a palpable demeanor of determined spite.
And it was trained on Mark.
Mark stopped walking, awaiting the group's arrival with confusion.
Ranni stepped off to the side. No longer the center of attention, her face curled into a watchful smirk.
"What's this about?" Mark asked, his eyes slowly switching between her and the crowd.
"You said you wanted to prove yourself," Ranni said forebodingly. "Here's your chance."
Mark returned his gaze to the crowd. The boy had reached a distance of five meters before his parade stopped.
A tingle ran down Mark's spine. Silence. All eyes were on him. He tried to suppress his confusion amidst the overbearing attention.
He stood perfectly still, combatting the lanky boy's angry gaze with a perplexed—but equally determined—gaze of his own.
The entire street went silent with anticipation. Dead silent. Shuffles, sniffles, and the distant chirps of birds were all that remained.
Then the silence was broken.
"Mark di Abbott!" the lanky boy roared with a scrunched face, his voice reverberating throughout the open road.
"That's me," Mark nodded.
"You commoner piece of utter trash… do you know who you've fucked with?"
"Nope. I didn't do anything wrong, I don't think," Mark replied. "But show some class. You're a noble."
A few snickers. A few whispers. They died as the lanky boy started once more.
"Laugh it up while you can, fucking phony. I'll wipe that smug look off your face."
"You can't do that," Mark taunted. "That's against school rules!"
'Is he going to fight me right here? He's in my hand's range. Should I invest my Shards?'
"You really don't know anything, do you? Fucking commoner scumbag."
"You're acting quite ignoble. Could you tell me your name at least?"
"Mark di Abbott!" he roared once more. "For stealing my rightful Class 1-A spot, I, Dawson Reaves, heir to the Marquis-level Reaves Guild and Rank 50 within the prestigious and noble Kolzig-Bondra Academy, hereby challenge you to a duel!"
Dawson Reaves held his watch outward, performing a dramatic tap of the screen.
A chorus of vibrations rang out. Every single watch had been notified, including Mark's own.
Mark looked down to check his notification.
===================
To: Mark di Abbott
Dawson Reaves (Rank 50) has challenged you to a duel. As a member of Class 1-A, this challenge is compulsory
The duel has been scheduled for noon, August 29th, year 724 (thirty minutes) in Sparring Arena 1.
As the first Ranking Duel of the 724-725 school year, the duel will be extensively supervised by Academy students and faculty.
Kolzig-Bondra Academy wishes you the best of luck.
Mortal wounding will be permitted.
===================
After reading the message, Mark's indifferent eyes met Dawson's smug face.
"There's still plenty of time to skip town," Dawson goaded. "But I would rather you leave the Academy in a bloody pool of my own doing. So be there."
Dawson turned around, marching off in the direction of the Training Complex. He took the entire crowd with him.
'I'm such an idiot… how could I forget about this?'
Mark stared at the message with indifferent eyes.
But the longer he read the message, the more he began to smile.
Mark looked over at Ranni.
"Show the Luikots guild something," Ranni affirmed. "If you impress, I'll get you that Excursion Pass."
With that, she walked off.
All Mark did was watch her in silence, her mystical outline slowly becoming more and more distant. Ranni followed just behind the herd.
…
His hands jittered and twitched. His heartbeat grew exponentially as reality set in.
But it was not fear. No. It was a physical manifestation:
Mark jittered with an uncontainable glee.