It was evening now. The last of our classes for the day had already ended. But I wasn’t making my way to the dueling grounds just yet. No— if we arrived before sundown, we’d likely be caught by the faculty of the school and we’d get in trouble.

  After all, Initiates weren’t allowed to use the dueling grounds yet. At least, not without special supervision.

  And this was most definitely not going to be a sanctioned duel. So we had to wait until it was later at night— when most of the faculty had left the campus. That was why I was just sitting in my room, waiting as I flipped through the pages of a book on the chronological timeline of the War of Fates… according to the Church of Life, of course.

  It was their revision of history. The narrative they wove was clear: that they were the good guys, and Nox the Death God was a being of absolute evil.

  There was no nuance to it at all. No alternative perspective. I drew my lips into a thin line as I read a passage from the book.

  It was the summer of 3071 in the Year of the Goddess. During this time, the city state of Servithra was the most populated city in all of Parvos with an estimated 4,000,000 inhabitants (for reference, Albus the Capital City of the Sanctus Empire is home to just over 3,500,000 residents as of 3095 YG).

  A delegation from the Church of Life had just arrived at Servithra, when Nox the Death God seized the opportunity to lay siege to the city state, not only breaking the temporary ceasefire that had been called just a month prior to this attack, but also involving an unaffiliated nation in the conflict. By the end of the bloody battle, a million innocent civilians had been massacred, and the city state of Servithra was reduced to ash….

  It was a ridiculous retelling of the actual events that had happened back then. First of all, I hadn’t been the one to break the truce— Zander and his Templars had been the one to break the truce first, slaughtering many of my friends. Not only that, but the so-called delegation Servithra was housing wasn’t a delegation at all.

  It was a group of elite soldiers who they were sheltering, using their ‘neutral’ status in the war to protect the Church of Life. This wasn’t the first time one of the City States of Volidar had taken advantage of my naivety. Unlike my predecessor, Val the Death God, I had refused to declare war on all of Parvos at that point in time, choosing to limit the spread of the conflict as much as possible.

  So I wouldn’t attack any nation that hadn’t yet officially declared war on me, or any nation that hadn’t yet directly harmed me and my people.

  I had tried my best to show the City States of Volidar mercy— I hadn’t wanted to cause any pointless deaths. Even when some of their soldiers had been hired as mercenaries to aid the Sanctus Empire, I refused to attack any of the countries in their alliance.

  Perhaps I should have been more like Val the Death God— destroying every city and attacking every country she came across. But she had also died after a mere ten years, whereas I lived for over fifty years myself.

  In any case, it was only after the ceasefire between the Church of Life and I was broken, and many of my closest friends were killed… after Eve was murdered, and her murderers were given sanctuary, did I finally have enough of these games and laid siege to Servithra.

  And while I didn’t expect the Church of Life to represent my side of the story, I at least thought they would have given more context.

  After all, Servithra was no city of innocent civilians— it was a city of slavers. Over three-quarters of the population of the city state had been slaves, and I did them all a favor during the siege by slaughtering their masters, freeing them from their shackles once and for all.

  But nowhere in the history book was this detail mentioned. Which grated on my nerves. So I slammed it shut and rose to my feet. Looking out the window of my dorm room, I saw that the sun was gone, and it was now night.

  “Seems like it’s about time for me to get going…” I muttered under my breath as I turned to the doorway.

  However, before I could even take a step forward, the door swung open, and my roommate entered the room. He looked like he was in a rush— he was bent over, panting as he searched the room for me. We locked gazes and he marched right up to me.

  “Eli,” Cecil said as he grabbed me by the shoulders. “Just… what are you doing?”

  “Oh, so you heard about it.” I raised a brow back at him.

  “Of course I did— everyone in the Class of Solarin knows! They’re all going to gather at the dueling grounds tonight to watch you lose to Prince Claudius!”

  “Relax,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not going to lose.”

  “Prince Claudius was taught the royal art of dueling since he was your age. If you’re doing this for me—” the elf started.

  “It has nothing to do with you,” I cut Cecil off simply, and he blinked. “Princess Claudius is just mad because I insulted him, that’s all. So we’re going to settle our differences with this duel.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Cecil clenched a fist when he heard that. He averted his gaze as he spoke through gritted teeth. “But that only happened because you tried to defend me in class. This is why you never should’ve involved yourself with me. Everyone I know always gets hurt.”

  So that’s why you wear that abrasive personality, huh? I thought as I looked the elf over. You’re really like how I used to be— back when I was your age.

  Shaking my head, I walked past Cecil, heading out the doorway. “You should come and watch the duel.”

  “But—” he began to protest.

  And I glanced back at him with a sidelong glance, my lips curled up into a grin. “I promise you, you will be very much entertained.”

  The door swung shut behind me as Cecil could only watch me leave the room.

  ***

  It was a duel. But it was not just any duel— in the context of dueling within the Holy Academy, it was what was considered a royal duel. So there was a specific set of rules attached to it that made it different from just an all-out fight. First of all, it was not a duel where people died, so no one would be using real weapons. Instead, we would be using training swords.

  They weren’t made out of wood, but they had dulled edges, so they were relatively safe, apart from causing minor bruising upon impact. And winning the duel was scored based on the total number of strikes landed after a previously-agreed-upon amount of time— typically five minutes— elapsed.

  It wasn’t a type of duel that resembled a real battle in any way. There was a lot of a specific-type of technique that came with it— especially since it was possible to take one hit to the neck to land three hits on the arms and come out on top.

  No Skills. No risk. Not even punches or kicks. This was how nobles resolved disputes without actually risking their lives in a fight. And that was exactly why I chose to challenge Claudius to a duel. Because I knew as a prince he’d have enough experience when it came to dueling to be arrogant enough to think he’d easily beat me, without realizing that he was offering me a chance to beat him on a level playing field.

  After all, if he could use Skills, I would lose. Because I was a [Healer], and I couldn’t use any of my actual abilities against him without getting into trouble.

  When I arrived at the dueling grounds, there was already a crowd gathered there. I recognized many of the faces that were present. At least half of my class was already waiting, standing around. And there were a handful of other students— those from the other classes, many of whom I didn’t recognize. But most of those who were gathered came from the Class of Solarin.

  They perked up when they saw me, breaking out into hushed whispers.

  “No way, he’s actually here!”

  “What is he thinking?”

  “Gracious Goddess, he’s going to get hurt!”

  But I ignored their chatter as I walked past them, heading straight for one of the dueling pits. Claudius was already waiting there with his two goons. He was holding a pair of training swords over his shoulders, and he grinned when he saw me.

  I approached him, but a pair of figures intercepted me from the side. It was Kelton and Myrla.

  “Eli, you can still back out,” Kelton said as he tried to block my path. “Prince Claudius said he’d let go without a fight if you get on your knees and apologize for what you’ve said to him.”

  “What? Are you stupid Kelton? That’d be so humiliating— it would be even worse than losing!” Myrla shook her head at him, before facing me. “Eli, you should drop out and swap me in. I may not be that well-trained in royal duels, but at least I’ll stand a chance!”

  “I appreciate both of your concerns,” I said as I raised my hands placatingly. “But I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.”

  “But you don’t!” Myrla exclaimed, before pointing back at Claudius. “Even if you somehow best Prince Claudius in a fair duel, you’re not going to win, because it’s not a fair duel. He’s gotten one of his other friends to be the judge and keep tally of the strikes landed.”

  Sure enough, when I looked to the site of the dueling pit, I recognized a young man sitting there on a stool. I didn’t know his name, however I had seen him hanging around the Seventh Prince from time to time.

  But I knew this was going to happen too.

  “Seriously, Myrla. I’m fine. Thanks for your offer though.” I nodded at her, before stepping around both of my friends.

  Myrla opened her mouth, trying to protest. But Kelton stopped her. He shook his head at her, and she pursed her lips. They both watched me go as I finally reached the dueling pit.

  Claudius chuckled as he strode forward, leaving his two lackeys behind. “Trying to come up with a plan with your friends to win? Too bad, you’ve dug your grave. Now, it’s time for you to face the consequences.”

  He tossed a training sword my way, which I caught with ease. I came to a halt before him as he twirled his own training sword. He nodded at the judge, and the watching crowd settled down.

  “Alright, so I’m sure you probably don’t even know the rules, but it’s quite simple— five minutes, no grabbing, no punching, no kicking. The one who lands the most strikes on their opponent wins. Do you have any questions?” Claudius looked down at me condescendingly.

  I raised a hand and spoke innocently. “Actually, I do have a suggestion.”

  “What?”

  Claudius’s brows snapped together. His two lackeys exchanged a glance. The rest of the audience paused, and even both Myrla and Kelton wore confused looks on their faces.

  “Look, if you’re trying to back out now, you can just get on your knees and—” the Seventh Prince started.

  “What if we make a small change to the rules?” I cut him off.

  And this time, a susurration of surprise swept over the crowd. Roland and Dustin shouted in outrage. My two friends looked at each other apprehensively.

  Claudius shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. This a duel— a royal duel. We can’t just change the rules!”

  But I continued, ignoring the reaction to my words. “What if, instead of a five minute duel, we don’t have to set a timer?”

  “That’s—” Claudius opened his mouth as if to interject, but then paused. “What did you say?”

  The crowd quietened as even the judge leaned forward curiously as if to hear what I had to suggest. I shrugged back at the Seventh Prince, suppressing a grin from spreading across my face.

  “I’m suggesting that we just keep the duel going without any time limit, and instead of losing based on strikes received, the first one to yield is the one who loses the duel.”