When Riven heard that Oscar and his cronies had dragged Elira into trouble again, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her expression darkened like a brewing storm.
"Brother Riven, let's just go home. Don't bother with them."
Elira tugged gently at his sleeve, her voice pleading, but Riven didn't move.
He stood there, calm yet unyielding, his eyes fixed on Oscar across the training ground.
"Let me say this one more time," Riven said, his tone quiet but cutting. "Elira Vayne is not your sister-in-law. And I don't decide who she belongs to. But—" he tilted his head slightly, a faint spark flashing in his eyes, "—if you want a fight, Oscar, I can grant your wish."
The students milling about in the courtyard froze at the sound of his words. Within seconds, a small crowd began to gather, drawn in by the tension crackling in the air.
"Did he just challenge Oscar ?" someone whispered.
"That can't be right. Oscar's natal beast is one of the strongest in our grade."
Riven ignored the murmurs. To him, the noise was nothing more than the wind.
To everyone else, however, his boldness was insanity. Oscar wasn't someone ordinary students dared to provoke. His contracted beast, the Fiery Lion, was famous across the academy for its raw, explosive power.
Yet Riven—usually composed, quiet, even indifferent—was suddenly the one throwing down the gauntlet.
Elira stared at him, dazed. She had never seen him like this before.
Why is he acting so impulsive lately? she wondered. Is it because of me?
The thought made her heart flutter despite herself. Her cheeks flushed pink as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
But it's fine, she decided. If he gets hurt, I'll step in and help. It's not like Oscar could seriously harm him while I'm here.
Her gaze softened, her determination quiet but steady.
Across the way, Oscar's lips curved into a mocking grin.
"Well, well, Riven ," he drawled, stepping forward. "If you're so eager to humiliate yourself, who am I to deny you?"
His tone was dripping with arrogance, but his eyes glittered with anticipation. There was no better stage for him than a public duel.
Under the watching eyes of half the campus, the two made their way to the battle arena—a massive circular platform reinforced with spiritual barriers and alloyed stone, built specifically for beast-tamer combat.
Oscar turned toward Riven, his grin widening. "Just a plain old fight seems boring, don't you think? Why don't we make this more interesting?"
The words sent a ripple through the audience.
By now, the stands around the arena were crowded. Students from every class had come running—especially the boys who admired Elira. The gossip had spread like wildfire: Riven Ashwood was challenging Oscar Lidi over the school beauty.
"Has he gone mad?" someone whispered. "Oscar's beast is leagues ahead of him!"
"I heard it's because of Elira Vayne. He's trying to impress her."
"I give Riven thirty seconds before he's flat on the floor."
"Thirty? Please. Ten at best."
San Elif, Oscar's younger cousin, appeared from the crowd with a self-satisfied smirk. "You're all being generous. My brother could end this in five."
The laughter that followed only fueled the tension.
On the stage, Riven remained composed. His eyes met Oscar's.
"What if you lose?" he asked, his voice calm but sharp as glass.
Oscar blinked. For a moment, he thought he misheard.
"Lose? To you?" His grin returned, wider than before. "Fine. If by some miracle I do, I'll pay you ten thousand Federal Credits."
The crowd gasped.
Ten thousand Credits—that was more than most families made in a year. Even for a student from a wealthy family like Oscar's, it was a considerable sum.
"Ten thousand Credits…" someone murmured. "That's his entire semester's allowance."
Riven's expression didn't change, but a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. Ten thousand would be enough to fully restore Frost Serpent's core energy, he thought. This could work perfectly.
He smiled faintly. "That's quite generous. I accept."
Oscar chuckled darkly. "Not so fast. You haven't heard my terms yet."
He crossed his arms, his tone laced with cruelty. "If you lose—and you will—you'll strip off your uniform jacket, run around the academy track shouting, 'I'm an idiot,' and then serve as my lackey for a month."
The words hung in the air, followed by an uproar of laughter from the audience.
Oscar's real intent was obvious. Ten thousand Credits was bait; humiliation was the prize. He knew Riven couldn't possibly afford to pay if he lost. The only way out would be to accept his public punishment—and become his servant.
He turned to glance at Elira in the stands, grinning maliciously. "Let's see if she still fancies you after she watches you grovel at my feet."
"Brother Riven, don't!" Elira's voice cracked with urgency. "He's trying to—"
"It's a deal," Riven interrupted.
The crowd fell silent for a heartbeat.
Oscar blinked, then laughed, long and loud. "Hah! Fine! Let's see how long your confidence lasts."
The referee stepped forward, checking the field's protective barriers. "Both competitors ready?"
They nodded.
"The match begins!"
The referee quickly retreated to the edge of the platform as two flashes of light illuminated the arena.
In front of Riven, a ripple of frost condensed into a serpentine shape. His Frost Serpent coiled gracefully, its scales gleaming like ice-crystal glass. The temperature around it dropped several degrees.
Across the arena, Oscar's summoning light flared into a burning crimson blaze. A majestic Fiery Lion materialized, its mane wreathed in living flame. Heat waves radiated outward, forcing even the audience to take a few steps back.
Elira felt her palms sweating as she watched. The Fiery Lion's aura was even stronger than before. She could tell it had recently broken through another level.
Riven's Frost Serpent raised its head, hissing softly. The thin layer of frost spreading under its coils was quickly evaporating under the Lion's heat.
Oscar crossed his arms, smirking. "So that's your trump card? I thought your spirit beast was just a worm. Looks like it evolved—but it's still only first-level, second stage."
He sneered. "My Fiery Lion is already first-level, fifth stage. You don't stand a chance."
Riven met his gaze steadily. "We'll see."
Her calm tone only made him angrier.
"Charge!" Oscar roared.
The Fiery Lion leapt forward with a deafening roar. The ground beneath its paws cracked under the explosive heat as it lunged straight toward the Frost Serpent.
The two beasts collided—ice against fire, cold against flame.
A shockwave rippled across the arena as frost and embers exploded into a cloud of mist and smoke.
Gasps echoed from the stands.
The Frost Serpent coiled back, its body glowing faintly blue. The Fiery Lion pressed forward, claws blazing with molten light. Each movement left scorch marks on the arena floor.
"Come on, Riven!" someone shouted from the crowd, though most voices were jeering rather than cheering.
Oscar's smile widened. "End this!"
The Lion let out a thunderous roar, opening its jaws to unleash a torrent of flame.
But before the blaze struck, Riven raised his hand. "Freeze the field."
His Frost Serpent's eyes flared icy white.
A rush of frigid energy burst outward, blanketing the arena in a layer of hoarfrost. The temperature plummeted instantly, and the Fiery Lion's flames flickered, shrinking under the sudden cold.
"What—?!" Oscar's smug expression faltered.
The Frost Serpent lunged forward, its tail snapping like a whip. With a sharp crack, it struck the Lion square across the muzzle, sending embers scattering.
Steam hissed violently as fire met ice.
The crowd gasped.
"he actually countered it!"
"No way—that Lion should've melted his in seconds!"
Riven stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the fight, his hand moving only slightly to direct her serpent's flow. Every motion of the Frost Serpent was deliberate, efficient—predatory.
Oscar clenched his fists. "You think that's enough? Burn it, Fiery Lion!"
The Lion let out another roar, bursting into full flame again. The frost melted instantly around its paws as it pushed back with renewed fury.
But the moment it tried to leap again, the Frost Serpent twisted its body, coiling around its opponent like a ribbon of ice. Its scales shimmered as frost spread rapidly over the Lion's fiery mane.
The Lion thrashed, roaring in fury, its body engulfed in steam where ice met flame.
Riven's eyes narrowed. "Now."
The Frost Serpent's tail snapped once more—this time striking the ground. A surge of cold erupted outward, forming jagged spears of ice that impaled the Lion's shadow.
The Fiery Lion froze mid-roar.
The fire in its mane guttered, then died.
Silence blanketed the arena.
When the steam finally cleared, the Fiery Lion lay unconscious beneath the Frost Serpent's coils.
Riven exhaled slowly, the faintest trace of satisfaction flickering across his face.
Oscar stood frozen in disbelief.
"he… he actually won…" someone whispered.
A murmur rippled through the crowd, swelling into a roar of astonishment.
Riven turned to Oscar. "You owe me ten thousand Federal Credits."
His tone was calm, polite—almost gentle—but the smile at the corner of her lips carried a blade's edge.
Oscar's face burned crimson. His pride shattered before the entire audience.
Elira couldn't help but smile—relief flooding through her.
Riven brushed a strand of hair from his face, her voice cool as ever. "Don't worry, I won't make you run laps. I'd rather you remember what happened here today."
Je turned and walked off the arena, the Frost Serpent slithering quietly behind him.
Oscar stood there trembling with humiliation, the echoes of laughter and cheers ringing in his ears.
The Gambling War was over—and Riven Ashwood had just turned the tables on one of the academy's strongest tamers.