Chapter : 29

  Zefar slowly raised his right hand. The air around his palm began to shimmer and distort with sudden, intense heat. A bright, orange flame sparked to life, wrapping around his fingers like a glowing glove. The temperature in the corner of the room spiked instantly.

  Neil gasped and grabbed Love by the collar, pulling the skinny boy behind him to protect him from the incoming fire. The nobles standing nearby quickly took a few steps back, eager to watch a fight but not wanting to get their expensive clothes singed.

  Ken just stood there, staring at the glowing fire magic in Zefar’s hand.

  Internally, Ken’s mind was completely unfazed. "Fire magic? Really?" Ken thought, feeling a little bit bored. "That is so basic. I could blow out that flame just by breathing a little too hard. If he actually tries to throw that at me, I guess I’ll have to trip and 'accidentally' dodge it. What a drag."

  Outwardly, however, Ken prepared to do another loud, fake scream. He opened his mouth to yell something about becoming a human marshmallow, but before he could make a sound, someone else stepped into the middle of the confrontation.

  "Back off, Zefar."

  ----

  The voice was sharp, polite, and completely fearless.

  Ken turned his head and blinked. Sayma, the Vice-Captain of the 13th Unit, had walked all the way across the room from her comfortable couch. She stood directly in front of Ken, placing herself right between the lazy boy and the angry, glowing fist of the Senator's son.

  Sayma did not look intimidated at all. She stood tall, her posture perfect. She slowly reached up with one finger and pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose. The glass lenses reflected the orange light of Zefar’s fire.

  Behind Sayma, Naomi was walking over as well. Naomi had her arms crossed tightly, and her face was set in a deep, angry scowl. She clearly still thought Ken was an idiot, but he was their idiot, and nobody from another unit was allowed to mess with him.

  Zefar narrowed his eyes at Sayma. The flame in his hand did not disappear, but it stopped growing. "Sayma," he spat, saying her name like it was a dirty word. "Step aside. This peasant insulted me. I am simply teaching him a lesson in basic manners."

  "He was standing in a corner eating his food," Sayma said calmly, not taking a single step back. "You walked over here looking for a fight. Lower your hand, Zefar. You are making a scene."

  "He is a stain on this building," Zefar argued, pointing his fiery hand toward Ken, who was currently peeking out from behind Sayma’s shoulder. "Look at him! He is wearing his uniform like a clown!"

  Ken popped his head out and waved happily. "Hi again! Still angry, I see! My offer for the tiny swan bread still stands!"

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  "Shut up, Ken," Naomi hissed from the side, lightly smacking him on the back of the head. "You are making it worse."

  "Ouch," Ken mumbled, rubbing his head and pouting.

  Sayma ignored the distraction and kept her eyes locked on Zefar. Her voice was firm, carrying the authority of a Vice-Captain. "He is a member of the 13th Unit. If you insult him, you insult Princess Iris. And if you attack him, you attack the 13th Unit. Are you declaring war on us right here in the Waiting Pavilion?"

  Zefar let out a loud, nasty laugh. He threw his head back, and the sound echoed through the quiet room. He found her threat absolutely hilarious.

  "Oh? Is that supposed to scare me?" Zefar mocked, looking Sayma up and down. "The reject team is defending their pet? Everyone in this room knows the 13th Princess is a joke. She has no money, no powerful backing, and a crumbling estate. You are the weakest team in the Succession War. My Prince, the 5th Prince, is going to crush your little group in the very first round."

  Zefar took a step forward, closing the distance. The heat from his hand was getting intense. Ken could feel the warm air washing over his face.

  "I don't care if he is in your unit," Zefar whispered cruelly. "I am going to burn his messy clothes to ashes, and if you stand in my way, Sayma, I will burn you too."

  The orange fire magic in Zefar’s palm suddenly flared up, turning a bright, dangerous blue. It was high-level fire magic. He was genuinely ready to fight right there, completely ignoring the rules of the pavilion.

  Naomi immediately reached for the dagger on her belt. Sayma’s hands glowed with a faint golden light, preparing to summon her Absolute Hexagon barrier.

  Ken watched the situation escalate. His lazy smile slowly faded. His sleepy eyes opened just a tiny bit more, and a cold, sharp intelligence flashed in his dark pupils.

  "This guy is actually crazy," Ken thought, his internal voice shifting slightly toward the cold tone of the Sovereign. "He is willing to attack the Vice-Captain over a stupid joke. If he throws that fireball, Sayma can block it, but the explosion will blow back and hit Neil and Love. I can't let that happen."

  Ken secretly gathered a microscopic drop of mana into his left index finger. He kept his hand hidden deep inside his pocket. He aimed his finger directly at Zefar’s knee.

  "I’ll just hit a nerve in his leg," Ken decided silently. "He will collapse in pain, his magic will cancel out, and everyone will think he just had a random muscle cramp. It is the perfect, lazy solution."

  Ken was one millisecond away from firing the invisible spell.

  Suddenly, a loud, booming voice shattered the tension in the room.

  "Stop!"

  The voice was not magical, but it carried an incredible amount of natural authority. It was a voice used to giving orders and having them instantly obeyed.

  Zefar froze. The blue fire in his hand flickered nervously. He turned his head toward the center of the room. The crowd of nobles quickly parted again, bowing their heads respectfully.

  Walking toward them with heavy, confident steps was the 5th Prince.

  The 5th Prince was a tall, handsome man with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes. He wore a perfectly tailored military-style uniform covered in shiny medals. He did not look angry; he looked extremely annoyed. He walked over to the corner, completely ignoring Ken, Sayma, and Naomi. He only looked at Zefar.

  The 5th Prince did not care about Ken. He didn't care if a commoner lived or died. But he cared very deeply about one thing: his own reputation.

  "Zefar," the 5th Prince said coldly, stopping a few feet away. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"

  Zefar’s arrogance vanished in a split second. His face went pale. He quickly closed his hand, making the fire magic disappear instantly. He bowed his head low, looking like a scolded dog.

  "My Prince," Zefar stammered, his voice totally losing its tough edge. "This peasant... he was disrespecting me. He insulted my honor. I was simply putting him in his place to show the strength of your unit."