Chapter 11: Didn’t you have lunch?

By the time he realized it, the afternoon practical training class had already begun.

Ethan leisurely packed away the textbooks on his desk, appearing completely at ease.

Although the other students in the classroom had long since tidied up, none of them left early.

Instead, they all casually—or not so casually—watched Ethan, curious to see whether he would show up for the appointment.

Celeste was straightening her desk, her eyes occasionally darting toward Ethan.

Though her expression remained neutral, the slight tightening of her lips betrayed her worry.

Ethan ignored all the gazes around him and calmly walked out of the classroom in full view of everyone.

When he pushed open the door to the training ground, he found that many spectators were already seated in the stands.

Rufus, being a prominent figure at the academy, naturally drew quite a crowd for his public duel.

This practical training session had, for the first time ever, been changed into a “Combat Appreciation Class for Advanced Magicians.”

The instructor stood to the side, explaining that

“observing battles between outstanding magicians is also an important part of learning.”

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, having to admit the Rufus family’s influence—even the practical training curriculum could be altered at their whim.

“That transfer student really brought this on himself…”

“Who told him to provoke Rufus without knowing his place?”

“I bet he’ll be transferring again before long.”

The moment Ethan stepped onto the training ground, he became the center of attention.

Walking forward under the watchful eyes of the crowd, whispers erupted from the stands.

Most cast him pitying looks, as if already envisioning him getting thoroughly beaten.

Celeste followed the class up to the stands and deliberately chose a seat in the front row—just in case she needed to provide backup for Ethan.

At the center of the ground, Rufus had been waiting for quite some time.

Seeing Ethan arrive as promised, a cold smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“The transfer student didn’t chicken out today after all.”

“Isn’t that what Senior Rufus usually does too?”

Ethan smiled easily.

“I’m definitely not one to chicken out!”

Rufus blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.

He instinctively retorted, then immediately realized he’d been outmaneuvered by this kid.

His expression darkened.

At that moment, the instructor in charge of the practical class, Toronto, strode briskly to the center of the ground.

“This duel will be primarily for exchange, with limited strikes. The goal is to determine a winner.”

Clearing his throat, he looked around before making the announcement—and then deliberately glanced at Rufus.

“Don’t worry, Instructor. I’ll keep things in check.”

Rufus nodded politely on the surface, but a barely noticeable cold smile curled at his lips.

He had already planned exactly how to torment this arrogant transfer student.

Rufus also noticed Celeste sitting in the front row and assumed she was there to admire his heroic presence up close.

He struck a flashy pose and waved toward the stands.

Celeste paid no attention to Rufus’s performance; her gaze stayed fixed on Ethan, a hint of worry flickering in her eyes.

Meanwhile, in the VIP Section at the highest point of the stands, several exceptional youths watched leisurely.

“Rufus is really making a fuss over nothing. Is it necessary to bring so much attention to a transfer student?”

A green-haired youth lazily propped his chin in his hand, watching the two on the field.

“Boys in love always act recklessly.”

A brown-haired girl sitting beside him covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

The surrounding students instinctively kept their distance—these were the academy’s top elites, and Rufus was among them.

A red-haired boy with a long braid turned to the silent black-haired girl beside him, seemingly trying to find a topic.

“Akane, how many rounds do you think that transfer student can last?”

Akane said nothing, quietly observing Ethan on the field.

This transfer student had been targeted by Rufus’s faction earlier that morning but cleverly defused the situation with words, leaving an impression on her.

Still, she wasn’t interested in the duel itself.

As the disciplinary committee chair, she was only there to ensure Rufus didn’t cause anyone serious harm.

Although the training ground was equipped with a Magic Barrier that reduced the power of spells, if Rufus took things seriously, the damage he could inflict was still no small matter.

With that, Toronto announced the duel officially started.

Rufus stood still, not immediately attacking.

His hands rested casually behind his back, exuding an air of confidence.

To him, dealing with someone like Ethan was as easy as crushing an ant.

But to his surprise, Ethan actually beckoned him over with a finger.

“Since Senior Rufus initiated the challenge, please, Senior, make the first move.”

Ethan’s provocative gesture was completely natural, as if inviting a child to come play.

This bastard… way too arrogant…

Rufus’s eyes narrowed slightly, and a Fireball instantly condensed in his palm.

“As you wish!”

“Senior, aren’t you supposed to teach me a lesson? This kind of attack feels way too half-hearted.”

Ethan sidestepped with ease.

The Fireball slammed into the protective barrier behind him, sparks flying, and he acted as if it was no big deal.

This blatant arrogance finally infuriated Rufus.

He quickly formed three Fireballs and hurled them at Ethan in a triangular formation.

Ethan dodged frantically from side to side.

Though he barely avoided a direct hit, the last Fireball exploded nearby, and the scorching shockwave knocked him to the ground.

“Ugh…”

Ethan pushed himself up and found his left arm burned, the searing pain making him inhale sharply.

Luckily, the Magic Barrier in the training ground weakened the power; otherwise, he might have lost that arm.

Even the most basic Fireball Technique wielded by an advanced magician could be terrifying.

But this was still far from enough…

Suppressing the pain, Ethan smiled.

“Senior Rufus, can I ask you a question?”

“What question?”

Rufus raised an eyebrow.

So now he was begging?

Too bad it was too late.

Ethan stood up slowly, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“I just want to ask… didn’t you have lunch? Your attacks feel so weak.”

Those words stunned not only Rufus but the entire audience.

Celeste frowned in confusion, unable to understand why Ethan would say something so obviously designed to anger his opponent.

Akane, sitting in the VIP Section, snorted coldly,

“Foolish,”

and stood up to leave.

“Not watching anymore?”

Her companion asked.

“Completely pointless.”

Akane answered coldly and turned to leave.

She felt it was a waste of time.

But the next second, her steps abruptly halted.

Her entire body froze, and her pupils dilated slightly as she spun back toward the field—just in time to see a figure flying backward from an explosion of flames.

It was Rufus!

The arena erupted in shock.

Celeste, sitting in the front row, widened her eyes in surprise.

Provoked by Ethan’s taunt, Rufus had flown into a rage and unleashed a powerful flame spell, spiraling toward Ethan.

Thick smoke from the explosion hadn’t even cleared yet when Rufus emerged, covered in wounds.

What exactly had happened inside the smoke?

Even Celeste, closest to the scene, hadn’t caught it.

As the smoke gradually dissipated, Rufus lay on the ground, charred black and clearly severely injured.

Ethan stood almost unscathed, aside from the previous burn on his arm.

Expressionless, he looked down at the fallen Rufus, unshaken, as if he had anticipated this outcome all along.

The duel’s host, Instructor Toronto, was stunned for a moment before the roar of the crowd snapped him back.

“Call the Medical Personnel immediately!”

He shouted urgently, then glanced at Ethan with a complicated look.

“I hereby declare… the winner of this duel is… Ethan.”