The banquet hall buzzed with anticipation as Kane and noble boy faced each other, swords drawn. Every noble present leaned forward in their seats, their eyes locked on the two young men. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with curiosity and expectation.
Noble boy smirked, gripping his sword tightly. The blade shimmered with a faint aura, and a gust of wind seemed to hum around it, whispering of the power it held.
"You should have stayed in your corner, little prince," noble boy taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.
Without warning,he swung his sword. A roaring gust of wind burst forth from the blade, hurtling toward Kane with deadly speed.
The crowd gasped as Kane moved, his body gliding effortlessly to the side, avoiding the attack with precision. The wind blast sailed past him and crashed into the ceiling, where a small spark of fire briefly flared before extinguishing itself.
More gasps filled the hall.
Kane remained still, his expression calm and unreadable, as though the attack hadn't even registered. Noble boy's smug confidence faltered slightly. He gripped his sword tighter, swinging again, unleashing another wave of wind.
Kane dodged once more, his movements fluid and deliberate. He didn't rush, didn't counter, simply evaded each attack with practiced precision.
From the crowd, someone shouted mockingly, "Is he going to fight or dance all day?"
Laughter rippled through the nobles, followed by another comment: "But look at his defense. He's holding his ground!"
A scoff came from a different corner of the room. "Are you blind? Paul's just playing with him!"
Paul's eyes narrowed. He wasn't playing. Each swing carried power that would overwhelm most fighters of Kane's supposed rank. His wind magic wasn't something anyone below the rank of high warrior could counter.
And yet, Kane was evading each strike as though it were a mere inconvenience.
The room fell silent as Kane suddenly closed the distance between them. In a single, fluid motion, he swung his sword. The blade hummed as it cut through the air, aimed precisely at Paul.
Paul flinched.
But before the attack could land, a deep, commanding voice boomed through the hall.
"What is happening here?"
Kane froze mid-motion, his blade halting mere inches from Paul's shoulder. He turned his head to see King Aldric standing at the far end of the hall, his piercing gaze locked onto the two combatants.
Paul saw the hesitation and seized the moment. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a gust of wind crashing into Kane, throwing him backward. Kane flew across the room, landing hard on the marble floor and skidding several feet before coming to a stop near the edge of the crowd.
Gasps rippled through the hall as Paul straightened, sheathing his sword with an infuriatingly smug expression.
At that moment, three kings entered the hall.
King Aldric of Alderon stepped forward, his expression cold as his eyes darted between Kane and Paul. The nobles fell silent, the weight of his presence washing over them.
Paul quickly bowed, his demeanor shifting to one of feigned humility. "Your Majesty, the Prince of Alderon challenged me to a duel," he said smoothly, gesturing to Kane, who was struggling to push himself upright. "I was merely obliging his request."
From across the room, another voice rang out. "Paul, what are you doing?"
The speaker was King Evaron, ruler of Lorthen, the western kingdom.
Paul turned , bowing deeply. "Father, it was just a harmless duel," he said, his tone calm and measured.
King Evaron offered King Aldric a diplomatic smile. "It's just the younger generation testing their mettle. Let's not make more of this than necessary."
King Aldric's eyes flicked back to Kane. His son had finally managed to stand, his breathing labored and his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his sword. Kane seemed ready to retort, his frustration evident in his eyes, but under his father's cold stare, he swallowed his words.
Without breaking his gaze, King Aldric addressed the room. "I apologize for the disruption. Let us resume the banquet."
The nobles hesitated, unsure whether to linger or obey. Slowly, the hum of conversation returned as they drifted back to their tables, though many stole glances at Kane and Paul.
As the tension eased, King Caelith of Rhyedor, the eastern kingdom, turned to the red-haired boy standing silently by the wall. His piercing crimson eyes met the boy's for a brief moment. The young man stiffened, unable to hold the king's gaze.
"Let's go," King Caelith said curtly.
The red-haired boy hesitated only a second before following, his head bowed and shoulders tense.
Kane's mother and Julia entered the hall as the crowd began to settle. Their eyes immediately sought Kane, and when they saw him leaning against a pillar, their expressions darkened with worry.
"Kane!" Julia exclaimed, rushing to his side.
Kane's mother followed, her graceful movements drawing attention despite her quiet demeanor. She glanced at the older maid by her side, who moved swiftly to Kane.
The maid placed a hand over Kane's wound. A soft glow emanated from her palm, and in an instant, the injury healed, leaving no trace of the injury . Kane, though surprised by the speed of the healing, said nothing. He could heal himself through his system, but the maid's ability was extraordinary.
"Rest for now," his mother said softly, her voice calm but firm.
Kane nodded, though the pain of the side effects still lingered in his body. "Tomorrow is the exam," he muttered. "I need to sleep early."
Julia watched him go, her concern evident. Kane glanced back at his father, who was deep in conversation with King Evaron. Nearby, the duke's son smirked at Kane, his amusement clear. Kane ignored him and headed toward the exit.
Elsewhere in the Banquet Hall
Two men in black cloaks stood on a secluded balcony overlooking the bustling crowd below.
"We need to keep an eye on Paul," one of them said quietly, his voice serious.
Far from their discussion, Paul stood in his room, staring at his reflection in the mirror. his eyes fell on a thin scratch on his left cheek.
He reached up to touch it.
The moment his fingers brushed the wound, blood poured from it, staining his cheek. Paul froze. His mind flashed back to the moment Kane's sword had stopped mid-air.
"Is that from,,,," he mumbled.
Back on the balcony, a towering man with a thick black beard ,tall and muscular, in his hand a half-empty glass of wine ,approached the two cloaked figures.
"Are you two blind or something?" he growled, his voice deep and mocking. "Paul's not the one you need to watch. But someone else ."
The bearded man laughed to himself, taking another swig of wine. "This time, it's going to be more fun," he muttered before staggering away.
Kane stood on a balcony overlooking the arena. Workers below bustled about, preparing the grounds for the grand exams. His gaze was distant, focused inward.
A sharp pain tore through his body, forcing him to grip the railing. His breath hitched, and he gritted his teeth as the side effects struck.
"Damn it," he hissed, his vision blurring for a moment.
A familiar ding echoed in his mind, and a system message appeared before him:
"Side effect period is complete
another message appeared:
"You can now access 15% of your power."