The rain came down in sheets, hammering against the roof of the cave where Damian and his squad had taken refuge. The cold seeped into their bones, but the fire in the middle of the cave offered some warmth as they sat huddled around it. Their bodies ached from the day's skirmishes, their muscles stiff, and their morale low. Damian could feel the tension in the air, thicker than the storm outside. Something was wrong.
Lionel Greaves, their so-called "noble leader," had been acting suspiciously. He kept straying from the group, disappearing into the shadows only to return moments later with a smug look on his face. Damian's instincts screamed at him, but he kept his suspicions quiet, watching Lionel's every move. They were all exhausted, and the last thing he needed was another confrontation within their ranks.
As Damian leaned back against the cold stone wall, trying to gather his thoughts, the faint sound of footsteps echoed through the cave. He snapped to attention, hand moving to the hilt of his sword. The others noticed it too, their faces growing pale. The footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the sound of metal armor clinking together.
From the darkness outside, three squads emerged into the firelight
Damian's stomach twisted in knots. How did they find us? His eyes darted toward Lionel, who was now smirking openly, stepping forward to greet the newcomers.
"Nice of you to show up," Lionel said with a mocking tone. He turned to face his squad, but his gaze lingered on Damian. "I did what you asked, Nathaniel. Now, let's have some fun with this commoner."
Damian's heart sank. The pieces fell into place—Lionel had betrayed them.
From the darkness stepped Nathaniel Valencrown, the number one ranked graduate. His platinum blond hair shimmered in the flickering firelight, and his red eyes glinted with an eerie, domineering presence. He exuded an aura that made everyone's skin crawl. He was calm, composed, and every step he took commanded attention.
"Who is Damian Cade?" Nathaniel's voice was soft, almost bored, but it carried a dangerous edge that made everyone freeze.
No one spoke at first, but then Damian's own squad members, the people he had fought alongside, pointed at him without hesitation. Damian felt a cold wave of betrayal wash over him, but he forced himself to step forward.
"I'm Damian Cade," he said, his voice steady.
Nathaniel's eyes scanned Damian, appraising him like one would a piece of meat. "I've heard you've been spending time with someone important to me," he said, his tone casual. "Arabelle Verdell. My fiancée."
Damian's jaw tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. "Yes, Arabelle. What of it?"
Nathaniel smiled, though it was anything but friendly. "That makes this easier. Ten minutes," he said, holding up a single finger. "If you can survive for ten minutes against these students, I'll let you go. I'll even forget about you spending time with my fiancée. But if you don't… well, you die."
The weight of Nathaniel's words hung in the air, freezing everyone in place. One of Nathaniel's lackeys spoke up, his voice shaky. "Kill him? You can't be serious. The academy—"
Nathaniel turned and fixed the student with a cold, piercing gaze. "I'm the emperor's son. Do you really think the academy would expel me for killing a lowborn? They'd sweep it under the rug." His voice was soft, but the threat was real.
The student swallowed hard, shrinking back in fear.
Nathaniel turned his attention back to Damian, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "Anyone who doesn't fight Damian will have to answer to me. And I promise, I'll make their lives a living hell."
The fire crackled louder, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the tension in the cave reached its breaking point.
Without warning, Nathaniel's squad lunged forward.
The cave erupted into chaos. As soon as Nathaniel gave the signal, three students charged at Damian. He reacted on instinct, raising his sword just in time to block the first attack. The clash of steel echoed through the cave as Damian deflected a heavy strike aimed at his shoulder. Sparks flew as his blade met another sword, the impact jolting his arm. The force was stronger than he expected.
A second attacker came from his left, swinging a spear in a wide arc. Damian barely had time to dodge, the sharp tip grazing his side. Pain shot through him, but he didn't slow down. He twisted, bringing his sword around in a horizontal slash, forcing the spearman to back off.
But the moment Damian turned his attention to the spearman, the third student closed in with a dagger, aiming for his ribs. Damian pivoted on his heel, narrowly avoiding the strike. His eyes darted around the cave, taking in the positions of his enemies. They were coordinated, moving in sync to overwhelm him from all sides.
Damian gritted his teeth. He needed to create space. He couldn't let them surround him like this.
With a burst of speed, Damian lunged forward, catching the spearman off guard. His sword slashed upward, cutting deep into the spearman's arm. The student cried out in pain, dropping the spear as blood flowed from the wound. Damian didn't stop—he kicked the student back, sending him stumbling into the wall of the cave.
But just as Damian pressed his advantage, another blow came from behind. One of Nathaniel's men had swung an axe, aiming to cleave Damian's back. Damian ducked, the blade whistling inches above his head. He rolled to the side, coming up on his feet just in time to block another sword strike.
His arms shook under the strain. He could feel the fatigue setting in, his muscles burning from the relentless defense. There were too many of them. Every time he managed to land a hit, another student would step in to take their place, forcing him to stay on the defensive.
One of Nathaniel's men, a burly student with a large two-handed mace, charged at Damian with a feral grin on his face. The student swung the mace with all his strength, aiming to crush Damian's skull. Damian sidestepped the attack, the mace slamming into the cave floor with a deafening crash, sending debris flying.
Before the student could recover, Damian slashed at his side, but the blow barely scratched the surface of the student's thick armor. Damian cursed under his breath.
The student with the mace turned, a savage gleam in his eyes. He swung again, this time aiming for Damian's legs. Damian jumped back, but his foot slipped on the wet cave floor. He stumbled, losing his balance for just a second—and in that moment, the spearman, who had recovered, rushed forward, his spear tip aimed directly at Damian's chest.
Damian's eyes widened. He had no time to block. He twisted his body at the last second, the spear grazing his side instead of piercing him straight through. The pain was sharp, searing, but Damian pushed it aside. He couldn't afford to hesitate.
He slammed the hilt of his sword into the spearman's face, hearing a satisfying crack as the student's nose broke. The spearman fell back, clutching his face in agony. But Damian didn't have time to savor the small victory—another attack was already coming.
The student with the mace roared, charging at Damian once again. This time, Damian didn't dodge. He stepped into the attack, raising his sword high. The mace came down, but Damian angled his blade perfectly, catching the blow on the flat of his sword. The impact sent a shockwave up his arms, but he held firm.
With a grunt of effort, Damian pushed the mace aside, opening the student's guard. In a single swift motion, Damian drove the hilt of his sword into the student's exposed face. The student's eyes widened in shock as blood poured from the wound. He collapsed to the ground, unmoving.
But Damian's victory was short-lived.
Before he could even catch his breath, another sword strike came from behind. This one hit its mark, slicing across Damian's back. He hissed in pain, staggering forward, his grip on his sword faltering. The pain was overwhelming now, every movement sending sharp jolts through his body. Blood dripped from his wounds, mixing with the rainwater on the cave floor.
And then, disaster struck.
In the chaos of the battle, one of Nathaniel's men knocked Damian's sword from his hand. The blade clattered to the ground, spinning out of reach. Damian's heart pounded in his chest. He was unarmed, and there were still four students left, all ready to kill him.
For a moment, time seemed to slow. Damian's vision blurred as rainwater dripped into his eyes, but through the haze, he saw the remaining students closing in on him.
He was cornered. But he refused to give up.
With a swift motion, Damian lunged forward, his hands glowing faintly with the remnants of his aura. He had no weapon, but he didn't need one. His aura flared, wrapping around his fists, enhancing his strikes with raw power.
The first student to reach him swung a sword, aiming for Damian's throat. Damian ducked under the blow, his hand snapping out to grab the student by the wrist. With a brutal twist, he disarmed the student, then drove his fist into their chest with all his strength. The student's ribs cracked under the force, and they fell to the ground, gasping for air.
Another student came at him, this one wielding a dagger. Damian met the attack head-on, catching the student's arm and twisting it behind their back. He slammed them into the cave wall, knocking them unconscious in a single, fluid motion.
But even as Damian fought like a beast, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. His aura was fading, his strength draining with every passing second. The last two students circled him like vultures, waiting for an opening.
One of them, a boy with a scarred face, charged at Damian with a spear, thrusting it toward his gut. Damian sidestepped the attack, grabbing the spear's shaft and yanking it from the boy's hands. He spun the spear around, using the blunt end to knock the boy off his feet. Before the boy could recover, Damian brought the spear down on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Only one student remained now—a girl with a short sword, her face twisted with fear and determination. She hesitated for just a moment, but then she charged, her blade flashing in the firelight.
Damian was ready. He ducked under her swing, grabbing her arm and twisting her around. With a savage growl, he slammed her to the ground, disarming her in one swift motion. He held her there for a moment, his bloodied hands shaking as he fought to control his breathing.
Then, slowly, Damian stood.
The cave was silent except for the sound of rain and the crackling fire. Damian stood at the center, his chest heaving, his body covered in blood and bruises. Around him, Nathaniel's squad lay defeated, groaning in pain. None of them had expected this.
Damian's hands trembled, his aura flickering like a dying flame.
Nathaniel watched from the shadows, his cold red eyes gleaming. He smiled, a slow, sinister smile that sent a chill down Damian's spine.
"Three minutes left," Nathaniel said softly.
Damian's breath came in ragged gasps as he stood there, bloodied but unbeaten. His body ached, his vision blurred, but he was still standing. Still alive.
The fire crackled, the rain fell, and Damian stared into the eyes of Nathaniel Valencrown.