The arena had gone quiet.
Kairon was carried off on a stretcher, bloodied but conscious.
Vaelric stood in the center, breathing heavy, fists still clenched.
No cheers followed his exit.Only silence.And the whispers of shame.
The Fallout at Xyprus Academy
The footage of the sucker punch went viral in seconds.
Replayed.Analyzed.Condemned.
Public Reaction:
"Thorne blood or not, that was dishonorable."
"Disqualify him retroactively!"
"He cracked the boy's jaw after the match—this wasn't just ego, this was assault."
Protests. Debates. The nobility scrambled to spin the incident, but the damage was done.
Internal Tribunal
An emergency disciplinary review was held behind closed doors.
The head of Xyprus Security read the charges.
Vaelric sat stone-faced, wearing the bruises of victory and the weight of disgrace.
Sera stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, saying nothing.
Instructor Rhys spoke up.
"He won the match," Rhys said, "but lost every lesson."
A pause. A decision.
"Vaelric Thorne is formally stripped of honorary tournament accolades.""He will remain enrolled but placed under probation for violent misconduct.""Future tournament eligibility: pending review."
The room was silent.
Not because of the punishment—
But because it was the first time a Thorne had ever been publicly shamed in Xyprus history.
Elsewhere – Medical Wing
Kairon lay on a medbed, half his jaw in a neuro-splint, his body covered in bruises. Monitors hummed softly.
A lone medic passed him a tablet.
"You should see this."
It was a video — raw, unedited.
The crowd standing.Damien turning away.Vaelric throwing the punch.The world watching.
And then, the comment threads below.
"That slum-born freak almost won.""That kid is a problem. He doesn't belong in the dirt.""He survived a Thorne. He's not done."
Kairon exhaled slowly.
A grin flickered, even through the splint.
"Let them talk," he muttered. "Let them remember."
A Private Chamber – Damien Thorne's POV
Damien stood alone in his highrise chamber. Lights off. Only the evening sun bled through the panoramic glass.
He didn't watch the match replay.He didn't need to.
He had seen everything.
The moment Vaelric lost discipline.The look in Kairon's eyes when he stood back up.The pain behind the pride.
He sipped from a glass of still water. Not wine. He had long outgrown celebration.
And then, a voice from the room's shadows.
"So," said Kaien Suro, arms folded. "Which of them reminded you more of yourself?"
Damien didn't answer immediately.
He walked to the window.
Looked down on the city.
"One fought like a king," Damien said at last."The other… like a survivor."
Kaien nodded slowly. "And which would you trust with a war?"
A pause.
Then Damien spoke softly.
"The survivor.He still knows what pain feels like."
Vaelric had the blood of Damien.But Kairon had the shadow of something older. Deeper. Dangerous.