Chapter 21
Imagine The Fire
Friday morning.
6:02 A.M.
Princess Nora Ophilis, clad in training sweats, paced herself along the stone path circling Artheris Academy’s walls. Steam plumed white from her breath in the winter chill. Today was the exam. Today was everything.
As she rounded back toward the gates, her steps halted.
Across the street, on the far side of the academy gates, she saw a man. A shoeshiner, by appearance. But his face—familiar.
She squinted.
“Mr. Livramento?”
“?”
The tall, dark-skinned man looked up from his chair, momentarily dazed.
Nora dashed across the street, dodging a passing carriage, until she reached him. He had his kit neatly arranged: brushes, polish, a chair for clients.
“A new job?”
He nodded.
“I thought you all scattered under Mr.Fury’s orders.”
He shook his head. Tapped his chest twice, pointed to Nora, then to the ground here.
“…You came to watch me?”
He raised four fingers.
“All of you ?”
He nodded again.
“You guys didn’t have to go that far.”
He shook his head once more. Four fingers, circling motion, a firm hand to his chest, then pointed at her.
“…You’re here to give me courage?”
??
“How do we even understand each- ... ugh doesn't matter anyway... but ... you don’t even know me, and yet—”
Livramento raised both hands, pointed them toward himself.
Nora froze.
“…By Mr.Fury’s orders?”
He nodded.
“…He called you all here just to see me?”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Another nod.
Nora pressed her palm to her face.
But then—clasp.
Livramento gripped her shoulder, gaze steady.
??
His eyes said it clear: You can do this.
Then he mimed fangs, a bat’s wings, and the two-finger I see you gesture.
Nora’s eyes widened.
“Valencia misses me?”
??
" I prefer she doesn't , Mr. Livramento.”
He hummed. Nora blinked.
He pointed at her, shook his head, wagged his finger.
“…You don’t want me to call you Livramento? Then what should I call your human form?”
The man rifled through his shoeshiner’s bag and produced a card.
She turned it over.
McNair
His huma alias.
“...McNair?”
Nora bowed her head slightly.
Whoever chose that name…
“Well then. See you in the arena.”
McNair: ??
And the hour arrived.
Madison Square Garden.
Never before had the stands been so packed. A deafening roar filled the air. Every seat, every ledge, every corner was taken. The duel between Rafinya Saint Pauli and Princess Nora Ophilis had become a saga the entire academy burned to witness.
The gates were shut early. No more walk-ins—the crowd already overflowed.
“Ugh, really…”
Zeedee Lamb flicked back her hair, her red earrings glinting as she eyed the mob pouring into the stadium.
“Humans, fussing over two kids.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Hah?”
She snapped at the woman cloaked in brown beside her. Sunglasses hid her face, but the golden eyes beneath gave her away: Casca Saint Maximin herself, incognito.
“Excuse me? Speak in human tongue, gorilla, not monkey chatter.”
Casca clicked her tongue.
“This is our entertainment.”
“Entertainment?”
“A jellyfish can’t process that. No brain.”
“I am not brainless!”
“…Are you two really married? Why does it feel the same every time?”
“Oh? Roma? Finally.”
Casca turned to the white-haired boy, his hair tied in a stubby knot. Beside him loomed the tall, dark-skinned Livramento.
“And the other one?”
Livramento pointed.
The crowd split apart in fear. Striding in with a predator’s calm came a red-haired woman in a high ponytail.
“I’m here.”
Valencia.
But her attire shocked them—black Gothic leather, like a vampire huntress.
“…Don’t tell me Fury sent you to Velmount?”
Valencia nodded.
“Correct… Casca.”
“Then if Fury hunts the Shadows… he’ll…”
“He’ll need me. Not that filthy jellyfish.”
“What did you just say?!” Zeedee snarled.
“The prince assigned me there. Heh, heh…”
Valencia’s laugh was chilling.
“You’re worthless now. Heh-heh.”
“You bitch—!”
“Stop it. Today we’re here to support Lady Nora.” Roma forced them apart.
Zeedee clicked her tongue, elbowing Casca.
(You’ll let her stay with Fury?)
(Like hell!)
Backstage.
Dan slipped past the curtain last. Students sat waiting, tense.
Good news: Grok had returned. Bad news: he had surely heard about how Dan flattened Rafinya. His glare smoldered, but he didn’t dare act.
Dan spotted Nora, calm in meditation at her corner. Rafinya stood on the opposite side. The silence here was heavy, unlike the madness outside.
Dan moved toward the exit, glancing out at the VIP balcony. Nobles. Saints. The Pauli clan likely among them.
Nora’s eyes followed his every move. Rafinya’s gaze slid to Nora, and she gave a sharp hmph.
“First bout!”
Smack!
“Winner: Dan Burn!”
As expected. His opponent fell easily. Maybe Dan’s swordsmanship had grown sharper through training.
He helped the boy up, nodded—good match. Then parted ways.
Looking up, Dan spotted the VIP lounges. He knew the Saint Paulis were there. He sheathed his blade and descended to sit ringside, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the next pair.
The real main event.
Behind the curtain, they were ready.
Nora Ophilis and Rafinya Saint Pauli, side by side, staring into the light beyond.
Then—
“Bout Fourteen!”
The curtain lifted. Blinding light poured in.
The crowd roared. Every student had abandoned class to see. The noise rattled the stone, professors frowned, even Foden betrayed concern. He gestured the two forward.
As tradition, they clasped hands.
Rafinya raised her black sword case, etched with roses. Her personal blade.
Nora’s eyes flicked toward Dan at the sidelines.
I won’t let you down.
No practice blades here. Nora drew forth black ice—Snowhaven’s gift. The air itself froze into a sword in her grasp.
“I know this isn’t your strength,” Rafinya said, unsheathing her personal weapon.
“I don’t care.”
Her blade was straight as a pike, honed by Luminus’s finest smiths. The hilt bloomed golden roses, twin lions engraved upon it. And when she gripped it—
Sparks ignited red. Her body burned hot. Nora’s aura bled frost.
One side of the audience shivered as if in a blizzard. The other sweated as if beneath a desert sun.
They circled once.
Instructor Zoros raised the flag.
“Begin!”
