Zeff rampages across the arena, his attack pattern now resembling Heirian’s—pouring out as much raw power as possible in a full-frontal assault. Though Vichel manages to evade, fragments of the electro explosions still graze her, inflicting damage. At this point, getting too close to Zeff is dangerously reckless.

  “With attacks like that, his stamina will burn out quickly. I just have to keep dodging until his berserk state fades.”

  Vichel forces herself to keep evading, maintaining distance as Zeff chases her down relentlessly, his blows exploding with dangerous bursts of electro power.

  Zeff’s expression hardens as the wind-element girl keeps turning her back to him, slipping further away.

  “I’ve been striking her head-on, yet she keeps dodging! What does she want?!!”

  Once again, the speed orb flares to life. Zeff rockets forward in a straight line, his hand reaching as though he’s finally about to seize Vichel’s back.

  “I have to get her! I will get her!!”

  Vichel suddenly spins around, her left hand snapping into motion.

  JAB!!

  Two wind seals slam into Zeff from both sides. His body stiffens in shock—his frenzied assault had blinded him to the moment Vichel had set her trap.

  The impact tears into him, and his protective sheath drops even further.

  But Zeff’s eyes sharpen once more. Ignoring the pain, he channels a surge of electro power and hurls himself forward at high speed.

  Vichel is caught off guard, not expecting Zeff to press on so recklessly. Before she can bring her hands together to summon the wind, Zeff reaches her first and releases a blast of electro energy.

  It isn’t as massive as his earlier strikes, but it’s enough to send Vichel crashing back against the rocky cliff wall, her white sword flying from her grasp.

  She tries to raise her hands at once to gather her strength again, but in the blink of an eye Zeff is already there—pinning both of her wrists firmly against the stone wall.

  Vichel freezes in shock. Her hands are locked in place, held firmly by Zeff’s unyielding grip. They are so close that she can feel his uneven, heavy breaths against her skin, his face clouded with a confusion that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

  “Can’t you just surrender?”

  The question leaves Vichel stunned.

  “Don’t joke with me!”

  She lashes out with a sharp upward kick, forcing Zeff to retreat and release her. But in the same instant, his hands flick, sending his twin electro daggers flying at blinding speed. They embed themselves into the stone wall to the left and right of Vichel’s neck, pinning her in place once again.

  Zeff stands only a few meters before her.

  “Stay right there!”

  Zeff raises both hands, arms outstretched toward Vichel, his palms aimed at her. Sparks of electro gather and expand, forming into a sphere that quickly grows wider until it engulfs Vichel entirely.

  Fear clenches at her chest—it feels as if she’s about to be executed with a spell on par with the Spear of Thunder.

  The electro sphere swells until Vichel’s whole body is surrounded. Then Zeff forcefully sweeps his arms apart, as though tearing the air itself.

  “SHRED!!”

  TRAS!!

  Vichel’s eyes widen in shock as faint gray fragments scatter around her, as if they were torn from her very being. Her protective sheath instantly drops to 0%.

  The arena falls into stunned silence.

  “What just happened?! Zeff Lou Roan unleashed a technique that destroys only Vichella Arleith’s protective sheath?!”

  Vichel stands frozen. The electro daggers at her neck have vanished. Zeff gazes at her without expression.

  “I win.”

  With that flat declaration, he turns and walks away, leaving Vichel still shaken—wondering why he chose to defeat her in such a way.

  “Since victory in this match is decided by the status of the protective sheath, the Faculty Council hereby declares the winner of the 77th Verlyn Academy Battlemage Competition… ZEFF LOU ROAN!!”

  The arena erupts at once with thunderous applause and cheers.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “And our runner-up—Vichella Arleith!”

  Zeff and Vichel return to the stage, standing side by side yet never meeting each other’s eyes. Vichel’s face remains clouded with confusion, while Zeff shows no trace of joy at being crowned champion.

  Zoi doesn’t care what’s going on—she and Yanzen immediately burst into celebration over Zeff’s victory.

  Jacelin also joins the applause, though her expression stays puzzled, much like Bertan’s.

  “I truly never expected him to defeat Vichel in that way,” she says.

  “Was it because his opponent was a woman?” Bertan wonders aloud.

  “Last year, Zeff faced Vichel in the arena too, and he threw her clear out of the ring. I always thought Zeff never cared whether his opponent was male or female. But… why is his attitude so different this time?”

  Wasting no time on the stage, Zeff quickly descends and makes his way back to the participants’ chamber, his steps brisk. His face shows no emotion, yet something clearly weighs on his mind.

  Tseryo is the first to greet him in the otherwise empty room. He stands waiting, arms crossed, eyes glinting like blades.

  “Congratulations.”

  His tone is flat, but there’s a hidden sharpness glinting in his eyes.

  “Was it because your opponent was a woman that you treated her that way?”

  The words carry a note of displeasure, and to Zeff, the question only worsens his mood.

  “You upset? Is she your girlfriend?” Zeff replies with equal sharpness.

  “Hah, people from Argoust really do share the same shallow mindset.”

  “If it bothers you, I can spare the time for another duel—though I’m certain the result will be exactly the same.”

  Zeff has no intention of arguing any further. He turns away and walks off before his mood worsens, leaving Tseryo behind with his simmering frustration.

  “You owe Vichella Arleith an apology!”

  Tseryo’s shout halts Zeff in his tracks, his eyes narrowing in a sudden jolt.

  “You humiliated her in the arena! Do you think she’d be happy to be defeated like that?”

  The words strike deep, piercing the confusion Zeff already feels about his own behavior toward Vichel. For a moment, he almost turns back to retort, but that impulse is cut short by the sound of another voice entering the chamber.

  “Tseryo?”

  Vichel has just arrived.

  In an instant, Tseryo wipes away every trace of his earlier hostility, replacing it with his usual gentle smile.

  “Vichel, your match was incredible.”

  “Thank you.”

  Watching their closeness stirs a discomfort in Zeff’s chest—an emotion he can’t even begin to understand himself. The sight makes him all the more unwilling to stay a moment longer. He quickens his pace and leaves the chamber behind.

  Zeff didn’t bother to look back. He strode out of the contestants’ hall with quick, heavy steps, his face still unreadable. Yet inside, a storm churned—confusion, irritation, and something else he refused to name.

  Why did her voice affect him like that? Why did seeing her with Tseryo twist his chest?

  The further he walked, the tighter his fists clenched.

  “Ridiculous… I don’t care.” He muttered under his breath, as if forcing himself to believe it.

  .

  The Verlyn Academy Battlemage Competition reaches its final event—the awarding ceremony for the victors. Zeff, Vichel, and Tseryo stand side by side on the stage according to their placements.

  Zeff receives the grand prize: the Arzechlous Orb. Once its glass casing is lifted, the radiant white sphere rises into the air and sinks into Zeff’s chest. He feels the flow of the immense power sealed within it. A satisfied smile spreads across his face—he has claimed the strength of an orb known to be exceedingly rare.

  From the audience, Zoi watches with teary eyes. Her dream has come true, to see the artificer team she’s part of succeed in forging the Arzechlous Orb. Yanzen pats her shoulder and gives her a thumbs-up in congratulations.

  .

  Blizt!

  The photographer captures the three champions in a commemorative shot—Zeff in the center, Vichel to his right, and Tseryo on the left. Each of them wears their medal according to their rank.

  “Okay! Perfect shot!” the photographer announces.

  Without a word, Zeff turns and walks off first. Vichel and Tseryo exchange a puzzled glance, but soon they’re surrounded by classmates eager to offer their congratulations.

  Zeff doesn’t stray far. He withdraws to a quieter spot, watching the scene unfold before him—Tseryo and Vichel receiving cheers and praise, smiling as their peers crowd around them. When the fuss dies down, Zeff notices Tseryo leaning close to invite Vichel along. The two then leave together, side by side.

  Zeff’s gaze narrows, his mood sinking even further. Tseryo’s words echo in his head:

  “You owe Vichella Arleith an apology.”

  Fragments of memory flood back—his desperate charge to catch Vichel from behind, the moment he pinned her hands against the cliff wall.

  With a sharp exhale, Zeff slams his fist against the wall beside him. His emotions are in disarray.

  “Damn it… what the hell is happening to me?”

  “Zeeeff!!”

  Hug! Jacelin suddenly bursts in from behind, throwing her arms around Zeff’s neck in a tight hug, making him stumble half a step forward. Bertan strolls over at a calmer pace to join them.

  Jacelin immediately rattles on, “Good thing I spotted which way you ran off after leaving the stage! I was going to congratulate Vichel, but Tseryo whisked her away—ugh, what a pain! So why are you hiding out here, Zeff? Loads of Argoust students are looking for you.”

  Zeff just stares at her blankly, oddly dazed by her closeness.

  “Jacelin…” Zeff mutters, his voice oddly restrained.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re… a woman, right?”

  Jacelin furrows her brows in confusion, then quickly answers the strange question with a playful pose—hands on her hips, turning slightly to the side so the curve of her waist and chest are impossible to miss.

  “Of course I’m a full-blooded woman!”

  Zeff’s face clouds with thought again.\

  “So… do these feelings only come up when it’s with Vichella Arleith?”

  “Huh? Where’s that coming from all of a sudden?” Bertan finally chimes in, intrigued by Zeff’s strange behavior.

  “Yeah, you’ve been acting off ever since your duel with Vichel. What’s going on, Zeff?”

  Zeff struggles to form an answer.

  “You guys think I’m acting weird too? I don’t know… maybe it’s just exhaustion from overusing electro.”

  Bertan presses further, curiosity sharpened.

  “You beat Vichel by only stripping away her protective sheath—like you didn’t want to actually hurt her. Zeff Lou Roan feels… different this time.”

  Jacelin’s eyes widen in exaggerated shock, her voice rising hysterically.

  “Oh no! Don’t tell me, Zeff—you’ve suddenly fallen for Vichel after fighting her?!”

  “That’s the dumbest question in history. Interested in someone I just defeated in the arena? My logic is still perfectly clean from that kind of delusion, Jacelin.”

  His flat dismissal only makes Jacelin more frustrated.

  “Then…” Bertan concludes with a knowing tone, “maybe you’re just in shock because you’ve finally realized you’re actually attracted to the opposite sex.”

  Zeff freezes.

  Jacelin claps her hands over her mouth, eyes welling with tears.

  “Senior Bertan, I feel like crying… our Zeff has finally hit puberty!”

  “Oh for crying out loud! You two sound like a pair of nagging parents!”

  Zeff groans, caught in what feels like a ridiculous verbal crossfire.