The following day, the sun blazed over the academy courtyards, casting a fierce brilliance across the stone grounds. Magnus Bourlance, the institution's director, stood upon the central platform, his presence commanding respect from the students assembled before him. Every face reflected anticipation, nerves, and tightly restrained excitement.

  "Listen up!" Magnus called out, his firm voice echoing across the courtyard. "The time has come for the Class A Lightning Tournament. Each of you will demonstrate your strength, skill, and strategy."

  He placed a large roster before the students, clearly dividing the matchups: warriors and mages from Classes 1A and 2A against those from Classes 3A and 4A. The battles would be swift and eliminatory—a clash of talent under strict time constraints. Two weeks to determine the best among them.

  "Due to time limitations," Magnus continued, "the top four ranked knights and the top four ranked mages will face one another to decide who claims this season's glory. I wish you the best of luck. And remember—give it everything you have. Every match counts."

  Students exchanged glances—some eager, others frowning as they evaluated their future opponents. The roster was mounted on a crystal display board, reflecting the midday light and making the names seem to shimmer with promises of glory and danger.

  Warriors – 1A vs 2A

  Lusian Douglas of Mondring vs. Hector DouglasCraig Denisse vs. Regina PanKasper Bourlance vs. Edrick CollinsDarilyn Macallister vs. Ezequiel OwenNilson Stanley vs. Cadel SneiderConwick Briggs vs. Blair GreigWalker Wall vs. Jean MondringCorwin Armett vs. Leonardo Erkhan

  Warriors – 3A vs 4A

  Kara Bourlance vs. Lorenso DenisseSett Kessler vs. Benjamin ArmettJulian Erkhan vs. Andrew ErkhanMathew Brown vs. Alejandro JonesEthan Douglas vs. Dilan BourlanceEmmet Carter vs. Niel SneiderLiam Briggs vs. Kendal of Mondring

  Mages – 1A vs 2A

  Emily Carter vs. Melodi DenisseSandra of Mondring vs. Roxy BriggsAbdel Brown vs. James KesslerVerano Kessler vs. Mark BrownNaomi Sneider vs. Adela DouglasJaslin Erkhan vs. Isabella Armett

  Mages – 3A vs 4A

  Elizabeth Erkhan vs. Nora RymerDaniela Sneider vs. Lizbeth Brownámbar Armett vs. Dayana HarrisonIan Gressel vs. Violet KesslerClarise Stanley vs. Katherine of MondringRegine Macallister vs. Camilla Briggs

  Some students murmured names under their breath, already anticipating rivalries and strategies yet to unfold. Lusian observed calmly, assessing each matchup with a mixture of interest and faint disdain. He knew some battles would be mere formalities for him, while others would test his wit and speed.

  Emily, meanwhile, took a deep breath, fully aware she would soon face Melodi Denisse. Her gaze met Lusian's, and a brief, silent exchange conveyed mutual confidence. Each had their own path, but they shared the same objective: to prove that skill and strategy could overcome any rival.

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  The students' murmurs blended with the wind sweeping through the academy courtyards, heralding a tournament that would measure not only strength, but willpower and control. Every name on the list was a promise of battle. Every glance, a reminder that in the Lightning Tournament, only the most efficient and determined would rise victorious.

  A day later, the tension in the air was almost tangible. Isabella approached Lusian with hesitant steps, her hands trembling slightly.

  "Excuse me, Lord Lusian… may I have a moment, please?" Her voice faltered, betraying her nerves.

  Lusian nodded and suggested they find a more private place to speak. They moved to a secluded corner of the courtyard, where the academy's bustle faded into a distant murmur.

  "Well, I'm listening," Lusian said, prepared for whatever revelation she might bring.

  Isabella drew a deep breath before speaking, her words forced out with effort.

  "I know it may be hard to believe… but the ones responsible are the Denisse family. I don't know exactly how they did it, but they made me write the letter that summoned Caleb… against my will."

  Lusian's heart tightened, and the thought escaped him before he could stop it.

  "Mind control?" he whispered. "That's demonic magic."

  Isabella stepped back, fear flashing across her face.

  "Demonic magic?" she repeated, her voice shaking.

  Lusian raised his hands calmly, attempting to reassure her.

  "Easy… I believe you. I know you're not guilty. You have nothing to fear." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Did they do anything else to you besides forcing you to write the letter?"

  She shook her head, her face pale.

  "No… The only thing I remember is that one day, when my father and I were supposed to meet at the Golden Dome Restaurant, Lorenzo invited me somewhere else and introduced me to a strange man. When I shook his hand… my mind went blank. I don't remember anything after that. When I came to, there was ink on my hands—but I hadn't written anything that day."

  Lusian clenched his fists, anger flashing in his eyes.

  "Those bastards are working with the demonic cult," he said through gritted teeth.

  Isabella looked at him with desperate hope.

  "Then you believe me? Could you save my family?"

  Lusian exhaled slowly, his tone serious and honest.

  "I can likely secure your life—and your siblings' as well. But Count Noah… I'm not certain I can do anything for him."

  Desperation overwhelmed Isabella, and she even offered her own life in exchange for her father's. Lusian shook his head sadly.

  "That wouldn't solve anything," he said. "I'll send a letter to my mother explaining the entire situation. I assure you—she will not harm you."

  Through tears, Isabella thanked him with all her heart.

  "Even if it's only my siblings… I'll be eternally grateful."

  Almost instinctively, Lusian gently patted Isabella's head—a protective, comforting gesture.

  "I'm truly sorry you're caught up in all this chaos," he said sincerely.

  Anxious and restless, a cold wave of helplessness ran down Lusian's spine. Despite his high status—the nobility that granted him respect, influence, and nearly limitless resources—he felt trapped before events he could not control. Laurence would die in this war. Though his memories of the game were incomplete, he knew with certainty that the Empire was moving invisible pieces across a board where he could barely act. Every plan, every strategy he attempted to devise was constrained by his lack of experience in bureaucracy and the intricate political webs to which he was unaccustomed.

  Frustration burned in his chest. He could try to protect Isabella, explain everything to Sofía and beg for her help, safeguard Laurence and prevent his death—though their relationship was strained, his father's fall would undoubtedly weaken the duchy—but beyond that, the world continued to turn without him able to alter its course. The impotence crushed him. For the first time in a long while, Lusian felt truly vulnerable.

  And that vulnerability reminded him that each passing day drew him closer to the events that might lead to his own death. Helpless before that reality, a restrained fury built within him. Rage, mixed with guilt for not being able to do more, wrapped around him like an icy mantle that no one—not even himself—could remove.