Just when Lucas thought he had read all of her patterns and rhythms, Princess Nyx made a move that shattered his expectations.
In the blink of an eye, she leapt into the air—her movements now fiercer, more erratic, more desperate to draw out something deeper from him. As she ascended, a fresh surge of icy spiritual energy erupted around her, crackling like frozen lightning.
Lucas's eyes widened.
In that moment, her grace vanished—replaced with a raw, volatile burst of force.
She raised her ice spear high above her head, the surrounding air turning bitterly cold in an instant. The weapon pulsed with condensed frost energy, almost glowing as if responding to her resolve. Then, with a high-pitched whistle that tore through the air, she descended at terrifying speed—a falling comet of ice.
Lucas didn't have time to dodge.
Her speed had crossed the limits of what his current rank could predict. She wasn't just moving fast—she was blurring, the air itself distorting around her descent.
He instinctively crossed his arms over his head and activated the runes stitched into the sleeves of his robe. A quick shimmer of golden light flickered across the fabric—the defense array etched into the robe igniting at full power.
BOOM!
The impact shook the dueling platform.
Cracks rippled across the marble floor beneath Lucas's feet. The spear, empowered by Nyx's brute strength and Expert-ranked cultivation, smashed down on his arms with brutal force. The defensive rune glowed brilliantly for a heartbeat—and then shattered.
The shield was gone.
Lucas gritted his teeth as the ice spear struck home, slamming into his forearm. A sharp, icy sting spread through his nerves as the blow connected. He took a step back, his jaw tightening in pain. Blood didn't spill, but the skin beneath his robe was already bruising—his bones rattling from the shock.
But Nyx didn't come out of it unscathed.
As her spear collided with Lucas's arm, a violent shockwave ricocheted through her body. The weapon—though forged with her full might—was no match for the condensed fire energy coiled within Lucas's body.
The moment of impact shattered her ice spear into shards, sending frozen splinters scattering in every direction. The recoil traveled up her arms in a blinding surge of feedback, and she let out a soft gasp, stumbling as she landed.
Her arms went numb. The force had backfired.
She hadn't expected that. She thought the strike would overwhelm him—would force him into the ground, or at least send him flying.
But he held his ground.
Lucas stood there, breathing steady despite the pain. One knee dipped slightly, but he didn't fall. He didn't retreat. His arms were lowered slowly, revealing the damage, but also the calm flicker of fire still dancing across his skin.
Nyx took a step back.
Lucas took a step forward.
And then... both froze.
They locked eyes—his calm, unreadable expression against her stunned, calculating gaze.
Neither of them spoke.
The crowd around the platform erupted in gasps, shouts, and disbelieving whispers. They'd seen the Princess go all-in, summoning all her force—and yet, it still wasn't enough to knock him down.
"I-Is he a monster…?"
"He took that head-on?"
"She shattered her spear… and he's still standing?"
"No Adept should be able to take that kind of hit…"
Nyx's gaze flicked down to her fingers, twitching from the numbing impact. He absorbed my full strike… and kept standing.
She hadn't held back.
Lucas, on the other hand, hadn't even struck her once.
They stood apart, both clearly injured in different ways, both refusing to back down.
The tension that had filled the dueling platform slowly began to ease, like a string being gently loosened after being pulled to its limits.
Princess Nyx stood tall, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat—but then her lips curled into a soft, graceful smile. Her usually confident gaze now held something more nuanced: amusement, respect… and maybe even a hint of curiosity.
"You're certainly no pushover," she said, her voice light, yet sincere, as she looked at Lucas.
Lucas didn't immediately reply. He took a slow step toward her, his posture calm, composed. There was no arrogance in his gaze—just a quiet fire that burned behind his eyes. He leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"I only took your full strength," he whispered, "not your full cultivation powers."
Nyx blinked.
Then she let out a light, amused breath through her nose—her smile growing just a little more playful, almost as if she was trying not to laugh.
"No Adept should still be standing after that attack," she said softly, the corner of her lips twitching upward. "And yet, here you are… standing like nothing happened."
Lucas simply smiled.
With the formality of the duel behind them, the two of them turned from the platform and began walking side by side back toward the stands. The way they moved—gracefully, unhurried—carried an odd elegance that made them look like royalty walking away from a coronation rather than a brutal spar.
Whispers exploded around the field.
The students who had once been dismissive, scoffing at Lucas for daring to step on the same platform as the Princess, now couldn't keep their eyes off him.
"He stood up to her… and didn't even flinch?"
"Did you see the way he blocked that spear?"
"She shattered her own weapon, and he's the one comforting her?"
"What the hell rank is he really?"
"No Adept should've survived that—unless he's… more than just Adept…"
Jealousy twisted through the air like thick fog.
They didn't just envy his strength—now they envied his proximity to her. The Princess of the realm—renowned for her beauty, power, and cold distance from others—had just shared a personal moment with a boy no one had even cared about just a few days ago.
And she smiled at him.
Lucas remained indifferent to the stares, but he noticed them all. The envy. The questions. The suspicion. It didn't matter.
He hadn't come here to impress them.
He had his own plans… and this duel was just another step forward.
But as he and Nyx sat down beside each other once again, side by side amidst a storm of attention, one thing was certain:
Xavier Alden was no longer just a name whispered with pity.
He was now a name whispered with awe.
After some time spent in lighthearted chatter and shared remarks about the duel, the sun had begun its climb to the highest point in the sky. The shadows shrank, and the golden glow of midday began to blanket the academy grounds.
Princess Nyx, ever poised, turned to Lucas with that same playful gleam still dancing in her eyes. "I should get going before someone sends guards to fetch me," she said, standing to her full regal height. "Let's do this again sometime… maybe without an audience next time?"
Lucas gave a half-smile and offered a small, courteous bow. "Looking forward to it, my Princess."
With a final nod, she turned and walked away, her long, robes flowing like a river of moonlight behind her. Students along her path bowed or gave respectful distance, many casting sideways glances at Lucas, the boy who had just sparred with royalty and lived to smile about it.
Lucas lingered for a while, watching the platform, remembering every movement, every feint, every surge of energy between them. There was something about that duel that had stirred him—not just physically, but mentally. He knew now more than ever how much further he needed to go, how much stronger he had to become.
Eventually, he turned and made his way back to the dorms, weaving through students who had already begun whispering as he passed.
"He really fought the Princess?"
"She smiled at him… like actually smiled."
"They said he didn't even use his full strength…"
Lucas heard every word, though he didn't show it. He merely shook his head slightly, lips twitching in amusement. "Word really does travel fast."
The dormitory hallway felt different now. Eyes followed him. Curiosity buzzed in the air like static.
When he opened the door to his shared dorm room, a familiar presence greeted him.
Lira.
She turned as he entered, her face lighting up with a soft smile. She was kneeling by the small table, setting things in order, clearly having just returned not long before him. "Welcome back, Master," she said, her voice gentle, warm.
Lucas gave her a small smile and reached out to rub her hair fondly, his fingers threading gently through her dark locks. "Hope you enjoyed your free time," he said, his voice low, his affection unmistakable.
"I did…" Lira said, eyes shining. "But I missed you more."
He chuckled, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, making her cheeks flush instantly.
Just then, his attention shifted to the other side of the room.
His two roommates were seated, chatting animatedly, clearly having heard all about the duel. They looked up as Lucas entered, surprise flickering across their faces—followed by something else. Respect.
"Well, look who finally returned from beating up royalty," Garrett grinned, his tone teasing.
Cassian nudged him. "Or maybe getting beaten up by royalty."
Lucas smirked and strolled in like he hadn't just deflected an expert-rank ice spear with his bare arms. He dropped lazily onto his bed, arms behind his head.
"Let's just say," he said coolly, "the Princess knows my worth now."
Lira giggled softly, and his roommates exchanged a wide-eyed glance.
In the span of a morning, the dynamic had shifted. Xavier Alden—once overlooked—had become the talk of the academy. But he wasn't done yet.