WebNovels

Chapter 35 - Christmas Banquet [5]

Celestina's eyes were glued to the two princes standing at the center of the ballroom.

Not a sound stirred the air. Silence reigned, heavy and absolute.

'Caleus was right… he has changed.'

Changed a lot.

The old Azriel would never have done everything he had tonight.

But it wasn't that alone which unsettled her.

No—what shocked her most was simple.

'He complimented me…'

It wasn't as if compliments made her blush or her heart flutter. She'd received more of them than she could count, from nobles, knights, even foreign dignitaries. Compliments were as common to her as snow in winter.

What startled her was that he had said it.

Azriel.

The boy who rarely spoke at all, much less to her or to Caleus.

The one whose very presence had always whispered,

Stay away.

A boy who walled himself off from everyone, as though the world beyond his shadow was beneath his notice.

And now?

Now he was promising her a duel at the Academy.

Celestina hadn't even meant to speak her desire aloud—it had been a stray thought, one that slipped past her lips before she could stop it. Yet he hadn't ignored her. He had heard. And he had answered.

'So… he really will be joining the Academy now.'

The thought left her faintly… happy.

Among the Four Great Clans, Azriel was the only one her age. And yet, until now, he'd shown no interest in heroism, no spark of the same ambition she carried like a banner.

'What happened in those two years…?'

The question burned in her chest as she studied his face.

And then—

"…!"

A chill swept down her spine.

His face changed.

One moment, determination burned in his crimson eyes as he squared off with Caleus. The next—

Gone.

All of it.

His fire, his focus, the faint glimmer of humanity.

His expression smoothed into a blank canvas.

'W-what…'

Celestina's breath caught. Looking into those deepening crimson eyes felt like being swallowed whole.

No emotion.

No warmth.

Only detachment.

His gaze fixed on Caleus as though he weren't an opponent at all, but an empty shadow.

Not a prince. Not even a person.

Insignificant.

She might have dismissed it as some skill, but…

'Unless he found something like that in the Void Realm…'

It seemed impossible.

A skill that suppressed one's emotions? Anyone would kill for it. The ability to keep a clear head in battle—unshaken, untouchable—was priceless.

But the only explanation that made sense was chilling:

'Did he learn to suppress his emotions there? In the Void Realm?'

His earlier words echoed in her mind.

'Strength matters above all.'

Was this what survival there forged? Not just scars of the body, but the killing of the heart?

'No. Others have survived the Void Realm before him. And none of them came back like this.'

So what had happened to him?

The flame of her curiosity, once small, now burned brighter, hungry.

Before she could think further, Caleus moved.

He struck like lightning, his spear thrusting forward faster than any dormant or awakened eye could track.

Swish—!

But—

Gasps filled the hall as Azriel stepped lightly to the side, the spear's tip grazing past him by inches.

Spinning on his heel, Azriel brought Void Eater down in a swift arc.

Clang—!

Steel met steel. The sound rang through the ballroom, sparks scattering across the polished marble.

'No way…'

Celestina's eyes widened.

Azriel had dodged.

Not just dodged—countered.

And against Caleus, no less.

Caleus Nebula wasn't just any Grade 2 Intermediate. He was the Nebula Prince, groomed with training opportunities most could only dream of. Among the Four Great Clans, their heirs were supposed to stand unmatched in their ranks.

Except for Azriel Crimson.

Until now.

Azriel gave him no room to breathe. Void Eater blurred, slashing with merciless precision.

Clang—!

Clang—!

Clang—!

Caleus parried each strike, his spear spinning in graceful arcs, deflecting blow after blow. Sparks lit the air like fleeting stars.

A sudden lunge forced Caleus back. He gritted his teeth, countering with a sweeping strike aimed low at Azriel's legs.

"!!"

Gasps erupted again as Azriel leapt, twisting midair with inhuman agility. Void Eater slashed downward, forcing Caleus into a desperate roll aside.

"Tch… Were you out surviving in the Void Realm or secretly training under some master!?" Caleus barked, frustration slipping into his grin.

Azriel said nothing.

His eyes, cold and detached, never wavered.

Steel clashed again. Katana against spear. A dance of violence echoing through the hall.

Clang—!

Azriel pivoted, bringing Void Eater down in a heavy overhead strike.

Clang—!

Caleus raised his spear just in time, the impact vibrating through the marble floor.

The crowd held its breath, enraptured.

Caleus spun his weapon in a wide arc, forcing Azriel back.

Clang—!

Clang—!

They moved across the ballroom in a blur, each step, each strike, a storm barely contained.

"Haaa!"

Caleus roared, unleashing a flurry of jabs. The spear darted like a serpent, relentless.

Clang—!

Clang—!

Clang—!

Azriel parried, faster than thought, but even he couldn't stop them all. His tuxedo tore under the assault, fabric splitting. A shallow cut grazed his cheek, and he leapt back.

Drip… Drip…

Blood hit the polished floor, faint but sharp in the silence.

Azriel didn't flinch.

Only the smallest twitch of his eyebrow betrayed him.

That was all.

'Caleus is still stronger. He can't win in pure skill.'

Celestina's chest tightened. The conclusion was clear—Azriel would lose.

But even knowing that, the fact that he had lasted this long against Caleus was staggering.

Her hand clenched into a fist, knuckles whitening.

'I want to see more.'

She didn't want it to end.

She needed to see more.

More of the boy once called the unworthy prince.

*****

'Interesting.'

The thought rang clear in Azriel's mind as his gaze locked on Caleus.

Wiping the blood from his cheek, he glanced down at his fingertips. They should have been red—yet in the colorless world of [Void Mind], they were a dull shade of grey.

'I never thought I'd get this far.'

The skill dulled his emotions, sharpened his thoughts, but offered no physical boost. No sudden surge of strength. No miraculous edge.

And yet, here he was.

Not that winning had ever been part of the plan.

At best, he had aimed for a draw.

A convincing enough performance to impress Freya—that was the goal.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Now…

'It seems winning is more possible than I thought.'

The realization was strange.

Yes, he had trained diligently. But never enough to match someone like Caleus—the Nebula Prince, groomed to excel since birth.

So why was he holding his own?

It didn't take long to arrive at the answer.

'The missing memories…'

Somewhere in those two lost years, he had grown stronger. Stronger than even he realized. His body moved with instinctive precision, reacting before his mind could fully process.

Even his footwork… it wasn't purely Azriel's. It carried the ghost of Leo's.

A memory flickered—Leo, standing on a middle school stage, hand raised in victory after winning a Muay Thai tournament. A chapter that had ended the moment he quit, bored of the sport he had mastered.

Now, that forgotten rhythm flowed through Azriel's every movement.

'A hybrid… Leo's instincts and Azriel's blade. My own style.'

He almost smirked.

'Truly interesting.'

The plan had been simple: put on a show, earn Freya's attention, and—if fate allowed—walk away with a draw.

But now?

Plans had changed.

He wasn't playing for a draw anymore.

He was going for the win.

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