The words hit harder than Raphael expected. Silence fell. He glanced at Alex—and saw the smirk fade, replaced by something else. The weight of unspoken memories pressed into the room. Raphael softened his tone. "You realize I'm right, don't you?"
Alex lowered his gaze. "Yeah," he muttered.
"Then we'll have to do something about it," Raphael said, his voice brightening with determined resolve. "I'd rather die a virgin than die weak. So let's fix that."
Alex lifted his head slightly, studying him. Then, with the faintest flicker of life in his tired eyes, he said, "How about we go practice after you finish cleaning?"
"That's the best idea I've heard all week." Raphael flashed a grin and gave him a thumbs up before resuming his work. But as he cleaned, his curiosity returned, sharp as a blade. "By the way, Alex… what happened yesterday? Who was that man? Why did he attack you?"
"You don't need to know." Alex's voice dropped, final and heavy.
"Why not? Am I not good enough to know?" Raphael frowned.
"It's not about qualifications." Alex's jaw clenched. He turned away, shoulders stiff.
"Then what?"
"I don't want to drag you into my mess." His voice cracked, but he pressed on. "It's enough that I'm already falling apart. If you get caught in it too… it'll crush me."
Raphael's chest burned with frustration. "Alex…"
"Getting upset won't change my mind," Alex hissed, cutting him off. His eyes, usually restless, now burned with the stubborn glare of a boy refusing to share his pain.
For a while, Raphael stayed silent. But silence never meant surrender. His mind turned quickly, searching for a crack in Alex's wall. Then he smiled slyly. "How about a duel?"
Alex blinked. "Huh?"
"You love fighting, don't you?" Raphael leaned forward, eyes gleaming with challenge. "So let's have a duel. If I win, you tell me everything. If I lose, I'll stop asking."
Alex frowned. "I won't fight you."
"Oh?" Raphael smirked. "Are you admitting I'm stronger than you?"
The spark ignited instantly. Alex hated the smugness in Raphael's tone, hated the implication of weakness even more. His crimson-tinged eyes narrowed. "Who says I'm weak? Fine. Fight it is!"
Raphael hid his triumph beneath a laugh. "After I finish cleaning, then."
"Sure."
Raphael finished tidying in record time. By then, Alex had managed to drag himself together, bathed, and changed clothes. They left side by side, walking through the Academy corridors until they reached the practice hall—only to find it buzzing with students preparing for the upcoming inter-house tournament. Too crowded, too many eyes.
"This won't do," Raphael muttered.
"Then let's go back," Alex suggested.
"No," Raphael shook his head. "The place you fought that man—wasn't it hidden? Big enough for us?"
Alex paused. His lips curved faintly. "Yeah. Let's go there."
They made their way to the secluded area, an abandoned training yard at the far edge of the grounds. Shadows hung heavy across cracked stone walls, the ground scarred from past battles. The silence here was absolute, the kind that made even breath sound loud.
Alex rolled his shoulders. "So what's the plan? Rules?"
"Simple." Raphael spread his stance, raising his fists. "We exchange blows. Use whatever you want. Just win."
"Good." Alex smirked, a faint fire flickering behind his weary eyes. "Then let's begin."
Raphael launched forward, his speed impressive, honed through relentless training. His fist shot toward Alex's abdomen.
Alex didn't move. He only watched, lips curling into a faint smile as the punch connected. The impact barely made him flinch. In the next instant, his hand shot out, gripping Raphael's shoulder.
"Stop," Alex muttered.
And Raphael froze. His body locked, every muscle refusing to obey his will.
"I got you." Alex smirked, preparing to pin him.
But Raphael chuckled, his eyes flashing. With a twist, he broke the hold, wrenching Alex's arm behind his back. "That ability doesn't work on me." He drove an elbow into Alex's chest before releasing him.
Alex stumbled but caught himself, surprise flashing across his face. "Hmph. Then something else will." He darted forward, faster now, unleashing a sharp kick.
Raphael hissed as it connected, forcing him back. But he wasn't done. He bounded up the wall with feline agility and lunged from above, his fist aimed like a spear.
Alex smirked and leapt skyward to meet him. They collided midair, Raphael's strike grazing Alex's side. Alex twisted in the air, bringing his leg down hard. His kick slammed into Raphael's shoulder, driving him to the ground.
Dust rose as Alex landed, his foot pressing Raphael's knees into the dirt. "Give up already," he taunted, pushing harder.
"Tsk…" Raphael's lips curled into a grin. His eyes glinted as he whispered, "Don't move."
Instantly, Alex's body locked the same way Raphael's had before. Shock widened his eyes as realization struck.
"I win," Raphael said smugly, rising even as Alex strained helplessly. "Now get ready to tell me everything."
"Fine. I'll tell you but make sure it stays between us," Alex said after sighing. "Well, the thing is..."
"So you're saying…" Raphael's brows furrowed, his voice filled with disbelief. "After killing your parents… and your second uncle… Damon came yesterday only to tell you he wasn't the one who did it?"
Alex gave a stiff nod. His hands clenched on his knees, knuckles white.
Raphael shook his head slowly, almost to himself. "I don't get it. How can someone who brutally murdered your family suddenly deny it like it was nothing?" His fists trembled at his side. "Then why fight you at all?"
"I seriously don't know." Alex's voice was low, tired—haunted. His crimson eyes flickered faintly before dying down again.
Raphael's expression softened, but his gaze never left Alex. "So what are you going to do?"
"I have to find out the truth," Alex said firmly. Then his voice hardened with cold determination. "But only after I'm done here. This mission comes first."
"That sounds… okay." Raphael exhaled and nodded, though he still looked troubled.
Alex stood, brushing himself off. "Right now, we need to focus. Remember what Derek said—the inter-house event isn't just sport. It's cover. We must be prepared for what's coming."
"Then let's go join the others in the practice hall," Raphael suggested. "We'll pick up some new moves, sharpen our basics. No reason to waste time."
Alex nodded, and together, they left.
-----
The training hall was alive with noise. Students shouted, sparred, and tested strength against one another. Sweat, determination, and the faint buzz of anticipation filled the air. Everyone thought the coming event was nothing more than a grand competition. Only Alex, Raphael, and Klein knew the truth: beneath the banners and cheering, blood and death waited.
They trained hard that day, but when evening came and the students retired one by one, Alex's dissatisfaction gnawed at him. The others smiled, joked, and bragged about their progress. But for him? It wasn't enough. It never was.
'I'm still too weak.'
When they split off to their separate rooms, Alex dragged his feet back to his dorm. He shut the door behind him, leaned against it, and exhaled deeply. His body felt heavy, his spirit heavier.
Raphael had his curse-speech. A gift from birth. Klein wielded flames that burned not only skin but the soul itself—flames that could reduce even the proudest beast to ashes. Both of them had innate abilities, blessings the world bestowed at birth.
But Alex? He had nothing. No innate gift. No natural power. Only the cursed legacy of his bloodline and the dangerous pact he had made.
The memory of Damon's smirk resurfaced, along with his mocking words. Rage flared, quickly smothered by frustration. 'What kind of strength do I even have? What if all I'm doing is pretending?'
He sat heavily on the bed, burying his face in his hands. Then, after a long silence, he lifted his head.
"…Arthur."