The room remained quiet, expectant. Then, a scoff broke the silence.
"You suppose?" The voice came from the far right of the U-shaped table.
Axel turned his head slightly to look. A first-year student, with slick black hair and an overly tailored uniform. He lounged with an elbow hooked over the armrest and a teacup balanced loosely in his hand like he was auditioning for royalty.
"If you're lowering the bar just to let in every first-year who finds the door, then this club's already a joke."
Mico didn't answer immediately. She tilted her head just a fraction, brown curls brushing her cheek, expression unreadable. Her silence gave the statement weight, made it linger longer than it deserved.
Axel recognized him now.
Cael Dravik.
Not a major name in the book. Not some villain or influential player, but Axel knew him.
Kai knew him.
In his first life, they'd been assigned to the same party during a class dungeon raid. Cael had been the squad leader, all charm and swagger on the surface. But the moment things got rough, when the monster ambushed them and panic set in, Cael had snapped Axel's blade in half trying to "lighten the load," shoved him aside like a useless accessory, and left.
Left him to die.
No warning. No plan. Just a smirk, a shrug, and his back disappearing into the shadows.
Axel had survived anyway.
Barely. Bleeding, broken, weaponless.
He dragged himself out through sheer instinct and raw hatred.
And now that same coward was lounging in a throne-like chair with a teacup, talking down to him like he was trash on the rug.
Cael leaned forward now, placing the teacup down with exaggerated care. "With all due respect, Lady Valeine, if we're going to pretend this is an elite circle, then maybe don't hand out chairs to people who clearly weren't even considered worthy of an invite."
All eyes turned again. Some amused. Some wary. One girl in the back was openly trying not to laugh. Yanin, meanwhile, didn't even blink. Her focus was fixed onto Axel.
Axel didn't move. Didn't respond right away.
He could handle the insult. Honestly, he expected it. He was used to it.
Mico exhaled. "Cael, if you have something productive to add—"
"I do. Let him prove himself," Cael said. "Put his skills where his arrogance is. You made us all go through screening. Exams. Trials. This one just… walks in?"
He turned back to Axel, a smirk already forming. "Unless you're afraid?"
Afraid? The word left his vocabulary years ago. Oh how badly his fist was itching for revenge. He'll beat the shit out of this motherfucker.
Axel slowly pushed his chair back, the legs scraping softly against the carpeted floor.
"I'm not afraid," he said, voice level.
He stood, cracking his knuckles. "I just don't want to humiliate you in front of your friends."
Cael laughed, actually laughed, and the ripple of amusement spread through the room.
"Oh, this should be good."
Mico looked between the two of them. She sighed, her smirk shifting into a frown
"Fine," she said. "We'll hold a spar. I'll take you to the training room. But first, we'll have some rules. No skills and no personal weapons. Everything else is free game though."
Mico didn't wait for objections. She turned on her heel and walked to the far end of the room. She stopped in front of a wooden door and pressed her finger into the knob.
Fingerprint Recognized
She pushed open the door revealing a large and wide space. A rectangular chamber carved from black stone, warded runes glowing faintly along the walls. Floating lanterns hovered near the ceiling, casting dim, moody light over the space. The floors were enchanted slate, designed to absorb shock.
The room was barren aside from a rack of weapons.
Axel grabbed a wooden longsword, balancing it in his palm. It wasn't his preferred grip, but he'd adapt. Cael chose a slightly curved blade, more akin to a dueling saber. Flashy. Fast.
Figures.
Mico raised a single finger.
"One fight determines one winner. Fight fairly. As said before, no skills nor personal weapons. Step in the center once you're done." She spoke calmly and elegantly.
Axel nonchalantly walked to the center. His face was cold, showing no expression. Cael followed, standing 10 ft opposite.
One of the older kids placed a mana barrier and the rest of the group watched as spectators.
He could see Cael opening and closing his mouth, but Axel was deaf to the noise. He toned out the sound, his focus only on Cael.
3
2
1
GO!
The moment GO rang through the chamber, Axel was already moving.
No hesitation. No theatrics.
Just movement. Sharp, brutal, efficient.
Cael blinked and Axel was already in front of him.
The wooden blade cracked against Cael's saber with a deafening CLACK, the sheer force of it sending vibrations through both weapons. Cael staggered back, caught completely off guard.
Axel didn't follow up immediately.
He stood there, one foot forward, head tilted slightly, not even in a proper stance.
Watching.
Cael recovered quickly, lips curling into a sneer. "Fluke."
He lunged, blade flashing out in a horizontal sweep.
Axel ducked. Effortless. His knees bent like a coiled spring, and in the next instant, he twisted his whole body into an upward slash.
The blade connected with Cael's ribs, clean and deliberate.
CRACK.
The barrier flickered for a moment, catching the force.
Cael wheezed, staggering back several steps, the wind knocked out of him. His grip fumbled on his weapon. But Axel didn't advance.
Not yet.
He just watched.
Golden eyes cold and empty.
There was no hint of smugness, no satisfaction.
Just that unnerving silence.
Cael wiped his mouth and lunged again, this time putting everything into a downward overhead strike.
Axel stepped to the side, avoiding it like he was swatting at a falling leaf, then slammed the hilt of his sword directly into Cael's exposed shoulder.
Cael screamed. Short, raw, and sharp.
The saber clattered to the floor.
Axel didn't stop.
He raised his blade again.
And brought it down.
Thwack.
Again.
Thwack.
Cael cried out, covering up with both arms now. He wasn't even standing, he was crawling backward across the enchanted slate like an animal. And Axel followed, step for step, never letting up.
Another strike.
Another.
Not with precision now, but with rage.
The mask slipped.
This wasn't swordsmanship anymore.
This was punishment.
This was personal.
Each hit sounded like a drumbeat of violence, like he was trying to beat the memory of that dungeon run out of Cael's spine.
He didn't hear the shouts.
He didn't hear Mico's calls.
All he saw was that day. Cael breaking his sword, giving that fake-sympathetic shrug, turning his back and leaving Axel for dead like he was nothing. Like a broken tool.
Something inside him snapped.
The next hit wasn't with the blade.
It was his fist.
He dropped the wooden sword entirely and grabbed Cael by the collar.
One punch.
Then another.
CRACK.
Cael's nose crunched under the second blow.
Axel reared back for a third, but his arm froze.
A hand clamped onto his wrist.
Cold. Firm. Unshakable.
"Enough."
Yanin's voice.
Even then, he didn't stop.
He tried to wrench his arm free, breathing heavy, eyes wild, but Yanin held on, mana crackling faintly along her grip. Even through the haze, her grip was firm. He'd forgotten she was this strong.
Her other hand pressed against his chest.
"Axel," she said again, this time softer. "That's enough."
He didn't answer, but his breathing slowed.
The red haze that clouded his mind slowly lifted.
He looked down.
Cael was barely conscious, face bloodied and swollen, groaning incoherently as he twitched on the floor. The others behind the barrier were staring in stunned silence. No one said a word.
Axel stepped back, finally.
Yanin let go.
He turned away from Cael, eyes vacant, chest still heaving.
Mico slowly stepped into the center of the room, face unreadable.
She didn't yell. She didn't scold.
She simply looked down at Cael, then back up at Axel.
"Well," she said after a long silence, "that was… thorough."
Nobody laughed.
Not even a chuckle.
Axel picked up his blade and brushed the dust from his hoodie. His hands were shaking. Not from exertion, but from the force it took not to go further.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
No one asked.
Yanin glanced sideways at him, still standing nearby. Her eyes lingered. Not with judgment, but something else. Concern? Curiosity? He couldn't tell.
Mico clapped once.
"Meeting adjourned. We'll resume next week. Axel... welcome to Ravenveil."
The others filtered out silently, giving him space.
No one made eye contact.
No one dared to speak.
Cael was dragged out by two upperclassmen, his broken saber left forgotten on the floor.
Yanin was the last to leave, but paused at the doorway, glancing back at him.
Her voice was quiet.
"You looked like someone else back there."
He didn't respond.
Because maybe… she was right.