Fifth day of the Ember Festival and still no sign of Corvan and Valeriana. Their sudden disappearance was questioned by the people who they worked with. Unfortunately, the Twelve could not offer more explanation aside from the fact that they were 'occupied with a very important, personal business'. Of course, people had their suspicions. Rumors were spreading, and it was beyond the Twelve's power to stop this.

At the Twelve's regular seats, the vacant ones belonged to Tamara, Charles, Zevlin, Genevieve, Raziel, Corvan, Rowe, and Valeriana. As of the moment, more than half of the Twelve were not present. The other two, on the other hand, were down on the arena preparing for their fight.

The activities had once again ended and it was time for the fifth duel. The academy's event was as popular as ever. Many wanted only to watch the fight but decided it would be nice to spend the whole day seeing what they had to offer and ended up participating in all the games.

The Headmaster could not have in any better. He must admit that the idea of the Twelve engaging in duels was a brilliant idea. It was the primary attraction of the entire celebration. The more spectators came, the more they were able to spread the word regarding the soon-to-be-opened branches of Celeste Academy.

"I am strangely excited about this," Elfre said.

"I barely got over the fight the other day," Aneeka sighed.

"I am barely over your fight with Rowe," she replied. "Speaking of him, how is he?"

"He's fine. He refuses to talk," Aneeka replied and her face instantly soured some more. "Congratulations, by the way. I didn't have the time to properly say that, sixth-ranker." She smiled, trying to change the topic.

Elfre returned the smile. "Yes, well . . . I feel bad for Raziel."

"That guy? How's he doing?"

"He's crying himself to sleep."

"Because he lost?"

"No, because I 'wounded his perfect body'," Elfre replied, rolling her eyes. "I think winning or losing hardly matters to him when compared to his 'perfection'. When I visited him, he demanded I find smoothing concoctions or something that prevents scarring."

"He never changes," Aneeka said.

Brindon and Keelan, on the other hand, were quiet in their seats. Keelan was busy shoving sandwich after sandwich into his mouth while Brindon was staring at the distance. Currently, they all had their own world. After Aneeka's last comment, the silence thickened between herself and Elfre.

With only the four of them remaining from the Twelve, it had become incredibly boring. Even so, with Tamara and Charles fighting, the excitement was sure to be skyrocketing when the time arrives!

"Ugh. When is it going to start?" Elfre groaned. "I want to start watching! Hurry it up!"

"What's taking so long?" Aneeka grumbled.

A girl later hurried up the seats of the Twelve, looking panicked. "Excuse me," she muttered, hands aflutter. "We have no one announcing for the fight!"

The remaining members of the Twelve gazed at her for a moment before Elfre spoke.

"Not me," she blurted, turning to look at Aneeka who shook her head adamantly.

Brindon blinked at the girl blankly before turning to look at Keelan, who was still preoccupied with eating. "Him," he simply jerked his finger to the eleventh-ranker.

Hearing the twelfth's words, he nearly jumped and choked. He swallowed heavily. "Me?"

"Please, Lord Keelan," the girl pleaded.

"I don't know a thing about-"

Elfre stood and grabbed the bowl of food from Keelan's hands and pulled him up. "Just go! I'm itching for this fight, so just go up there," she told him. She then pushed him towards the girl, making him stumble as his mood soured at the thought of leaving his food behind in order to announce for the fight.

Keelan was wracked with anxiety, and he was open about this. He barely noticed the girl he was accompanying as they traveled up the platform. He was gnashing his teeth the whole way through and when they arrived, he suddenly steeled. At the moment, many eyes were on him.

He faced the audience and took a deep breath before a bright smile lit up his face. His eyes practically sparkled at the sudden flow of energy that the girls swooned from their seats, giggling.

"Good afternoon, esteemed audience!" he exclaimed, waving his hand out like a politician. This wasn't an expected look from Keelan, but he was oozing with confidence and professionalism. It was as though he had done this a hundred times and had even attached his normally vibrant, optimistic, and enthusiastic self.

For the Twelve, at least those present, this was quite a sight! The audience could not help but love him at first glance.

"My name is Keelan and I'll be announcing for today! I was not expecting this, so please pardon if I don't know where to begin. Now, where should I start?" he paused, calmly and openly showing his thoughtfulness. "I'll start by announcing the names of the rankers, which I'm sure you already know! Unfortunately, our ever energetic Tamara Silver is fighting Lord Charles today so she won't be able to announce for you guys! Shall we begin?"

The audience cheered at Keelan and he subtly looked to his right to see Lady Seraphina giving him a cue.

"That guy's a natural. He's a good substitute," Aneeka commented and laughed. "I don't get why he was so nervous a while ago!"

"Ol' Keelan's a shy soul," Elfre said, chuckling.

After giving the introductions, Keelan proceeded to call out the duelists. Elfre and Aneeka were restless with excitement as the two rankers emerged, donned in their battle attire. Between the two, Charles sported the most drastic change in terms of appearance.

The fourth-ranker was usually scholarly and very refined, but the clothes he bore put emphasis on his carved muscles, making him look fiercer. His normal glasses were replaced by a secured pair, shaped like visors that went around his head like a crown.

He sported a light, silver armor with a touch of gold and cobalt-blue that molded perfectly with his body. His chosen weapon, the glaive, stood by his side like a pillar, its peak surpassing his height by a couple of inches. A blue ribbon was tied to its shaft, its body coiling in the wind like a crouching dragon.

He smirked. "I did not expect your impertinence to seep through your very clothes. How unrefined."

"Unrefined?" Tamara flicked her guarded wrists, letting the wind gust blow through her clothing. It fluttered around her strong and tall frame, emphasizing the litheness of her body below that fabric.

Her appearance was the complete opposite of the fourth-ranker-wild, free, and bold. There were two stripes of snow-blue paint across both her cheeks, accentuating the sheerness of her eyes and the fervid color of her hair. Her clothes bore the same snow-blue and lacked the heaviness of an armor. In fact, all she had was a long robe with long slits on the side, matching pants, and lace-up boots. Nothing too fancy.

"These clothes are enough to guard against your attacks," Tamara told him with a passionate smile. "Besides, there's no use in pretending what I'm not."

"Duelists, in place!" Keelan's voice rang. "Everyone! Count with me!" he exclaimed, and the audience did. "Three, two, one!"

"In all honesty, that girl looks like she will only be fighting a street fight," Aneeka commented. "Is she not taking things too seriously?"

The light flared from the side of the arena and Tamara wasted no time, launching forward like a hidden tiger out of its den. She pulled both her swords out of their sheaths and swung.

Bang!

A large gust of wind flared and clothes fluttered, blades crossing with sparks at the force behind the attack. Charles showed no fear and quickly jumped back to gain momentum for his retaliation. With both his hands on the shaft of his glaive, he let it spin between his fingers as he advanced and quickly struck.

Tamara crossed her own blades to meet the incoming assault. As soon as they made contact, the third-ranker decisively slid out of the way. Her movements were smooth as she shifted to the side and threw out her leg in a roundhouse kick, targeting the fourth's unguarded side.

"As usual, you leave too many openings!" she exclaimed.

His eyes glinted knowingly, his weapon sharply changing its course.

"Holy-" Tamara's survival instincts kicked in but she refused to move out of the way. Her eyes were narrowed with ferocity as she brought down the leg she was supposed to kick with to meet with the blade of Charles.

"Is she crazy?!" Elfre yelled.

As they connected, a clang resonated.

"Huh?"

The audience were confused.

"Gah!" Keelan exclaimed. "I almost thought Tamara's leg would get cut off, but thank goodness!"

Tamara then retreated, a drop of sweat sliding down the side of her face. "You want to cut off my leg, you godsdamned fool?"

"I did it because I wanted to confirm my thoughts. Those clothes double as armor, am I right? Not just those boots," he said. "Persidian fabric. It's an amazing network of silk and cotton from a butterfly that thrives in Denovegasia. It's very special because when hit with force, it hardens like steel. Very innovative. Where'd you get such a large quantity?"

"Wow," Keelan whistled.

Tamara continued to fume. "Confirm your thoughts my ass!"

Charles was sharp, Tamara knew that fact. However, she did not expect to be found out this soon. She felt as though her secret was somewhat spoiled too early that she could not help but feel utter disappointment.

"Stop seething," Charles said. "If you weren't confident in yourself, you wouldn't have continued. I gave you enough chance to change the course of your kick, but you didn't."

"Shut your trap, you bastard!" she indignantly told him.

"Such a straightforward exchange!" Keelan clapped his hands. "Good work, both of you! Amazing start!"

The audience followed suit and started hooting. However, Tamara and Charles were too caught up in their fight to notice. The third-ranker shot forward once more, her twin blades glinting as she held them tight. After pulling them back to prepare for another assault, she struck down at her opponent with all her might. Charles held up his own weapon and parried the blow.

The exchange went on for a few minutes. The cadence of their fight continued in the same pace, but the audience were just as eager. The two were very skilled and held up against one another quite nicely. The moves they used for combat displayed flexibility, strength, agility, and pure talent!

Aneeka was leaning back leisurely when her eyes caught a familiar figure appear. Her jaws dropped and her eyes went wide. She poked Elfre, who was silently chewing on her lower lip, on the shoulder.

"What is it?"

"It-it's Lord Lovis," she said.

"What lord?" Elfre frowned. She dragged her gaze to the direction Aneeka was looking at and gaped. "That guy looks like Charles," she commented.

"That's because he's his father!"

She gaped. "Whose father?"

"Charles! And Tamara!"

"Prelure! You mean, that person?"

"Who else?!"

The one who appeared had been a prestigious-looking man who bore an intricate, white long-coat with a high collar. Embroideries trailed the fabric, tassels dangled from the shoulders, and golden buttons lined down the front. He had wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, which were a striking color of blue akin to both the third and fourth-ranker. A tuft of blond hair sat upon his head, slicked back so smoothly it glistened under the sun.

"He looks like an older version of Charles with no glasses," Elfre continued. "And he looks grand."

"Maybe he's come to watch the fight. Or maybe he came just for the fight," Aneeka said.

"He's looking this way!" Elfre yelled, spooked. "I'm not good with grand people! You seem to know the guy, go get him!"

"Why me?"

"Do you really have to ask that question? Just go!"

"No way!"

While the newly appointed sixth-ranker and tenth-ranker debated on who would step forward to welcome the lord of Larkovia, Headmaster Kylon appeared beside him in a flash. Seeing this, both girls were able to rest easy. Kylon greeted him with a smile and pointed to the Twelve's seats. With the whole arena packed with spectators, even the pathways around the arena were crowded. It was hard to navigate through the sea of people.

"Was I late?" asked the lord as he looked down the arena, past the fences barricading the edges. "I'm sorry for coming on such short notice. I would have forwarded an advanced warning, but I thought my list was full and could not attend."

"Not at all, Your Excellency," Kylon replied.

Tamara had thrown one sword in the air when Charles managed to break through her defenses with one of his critical moves. His glaive whistled as it propelled forward, his feet halfway buried as he pushed against the ground to thrust him forward. Tamara evaded his attack by jumping to the side, tumbling against the ground as she went. This did not stop him, however. Charles relentlessly swung his glaive from one point to another. This time, he let it cut diagonally, pulling the shaft to an arc as he targeted Tamara's new position.

Tamara jumped to her feet and caught her other sword mid-air, her back forming an arc above Charles' blade as she eluded it. Her fist hit the ground, springing her away to land on her feet.

"Amazing maneuvers as usual," Lord Lovis commented.

Headmaster Kylon did not know whether the comment was directed to Tamara or Charles, but spoke nothing and smiled instead. He nodded to the students standing among the seats before waving forward to show the lord the way. They were there to serve as reminder to the audience not to block the path.

"Most of the seats of the Twelve are vacant. Some of the members are recuperating and some have personal business to attend to," Headmaster Kylon told him. "I'm sure it won't be a problem if I have you sit in your son's chair."

"I do not want to distract the two. I tried to come as inconspicuously as I could," he replied.

The people who heard him practically did a double take. Knowing he tried to come as 'inconspicuously' as he could made them wrinkle their brows in confusion. He had come as grand as he was, dressed so formally and regally. How could he consider himself the way he was as 'inconspicuous'?

"That-hm, Your Excellency," he hesitated. "I'm afraid there are no other seats open."

The look on the headmaster's face could not be painted. It looked like a cross between a smile, confusion, and disbelief. His expression was stiff as he tried to hold back his thoughts from showing on his face. But then again, basing off on what the lord has said himself, this was as inconspicuous as he could get.

"As you can see, the arena is brimming with spectators," the headmaster told him.

"Alright," Lovis agreed.

Tamara and Charles were still unaware of the arrival of the Larkovian lord. They remained focused, their eyes trained straight to one another's. There was a short pause to catch breath, for they knew that once they engaged in another bout, there would be no room to breathe at all.

The third-ranker was having a hard time trying to get past Charles' defenses. She was cautious since she did not know if he was doing it on purpose to draw her in. Even so, she knew that if she did not take risks, there was no way she could succeed. Knowing the way the wheels in the fourth-ranker's mind turned, he would surely have a plan up his sleeve. The only thing she could do was drive headfirst like she always did.

But that was what he was expecting, so she had to do something no one, not even Charles, would and could expect.

She threw her gaze about before their eyes connected again.

"You should go back to being a child, Charles," Tamara said. "You were at least a little sweeter."

A look of irritation sharpened his eyes as he dove forward, twisting his wrists to transfer the motion to his weapon. Tamara smirked and put the ends of her two swords together to form a long pole with blades on either end. After locking them in place, she adeptly pulled on them to extend the shaft. The move took no more than two seconds. Clearly, she had done this a thousand times over; a routine she practiced until she dropped dead.

Tamara then moved to meet his next attack, her foot shifting to accommodate her movements as she turned, her own, newly-assembled weapon spinning rapidly.

"What?" Keelan was dumbfounded.

The spectators almost stood at the sight. It was a surprising but exciting development. As their blades clashed for the next exchange, the Larkovian lord's eyes caught the third's action and stopped immediately.

Charles was caught off-guard at Tamara's move that he slightly faltered. As a result, Tamara managed break through his defenses and tear through his attack. Her blade grazed his chin and she rapidly followed up her move by push kicking, hitting Charles on the chest and putting him on the floor.

She did not stop there, though. She brought down the blade of her weapon, aggressively driving it straight for his face. The fourth-ranker paled at the sight of it and hastily rolled out of the way, leaving Tamara to strike nothing but the dirt.

He got to his feet, sweating, and leaned to a defensive position. "What is the meaning of this? I thought you gave up the practice of polearms."

"Just because I stopped practicing in front of you, doesn't mean I gave up."

"What? You pursued-"

"Because you gave me death glares every damn time," she cut in. "I know fighting you with twin swords won't work. I might as well beat you in your own game."

Charles gnashed his teeth, his jaws and grip on the glaive tightening. The tension was further amplified between the two. Tamara was firm and resolute as she gazed at Charles. Charles was determined and unyielding as well.

"It hardly matters," he finally said. "I will take the position of third-ranker."

"You hope," Tamara replied. "This one thing, I will defend."

She brandished her double-bladed polearm at him. In the space of three breaths, they simultaneously lunged at each other. Their feet dug up the dirt as they drove forward, weapons in hand.

They clashed. The clang could be heard from miles away. Breaths hitched and the audience rioted.

Their movements were fast and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. Their previous exchanges looked like warm-ups compared to this one, which was full of energy and brimming with ferocity.

Charles thrusted his glaive for a jab which Tamara evaded easily, driving down her own weapon from above. Once their blades struck, Charles simply rotated his glaive to a full circle to reverse the position, this time forcing Tamara's blade to the ground.

Tamara did not let this impede her, reinforcing her moves with another kick. Charles blocked it with his arm to protect himself, giving the third-ranker a chance to free her weapon and throw him off.

"If you think you can take this position from me, you're a million years too early," she told him.

She rotated her wrists and let her weapon spin around her, her body forming many stances to balance out the corresponding attacks she gave. Charles was forced to follow her rhythm, remaining defensive the entire while. Tamara was giving him no chance to attack; she was basically controlling the entire fight.

She chopped the air from the right. Charles leaned away and attempted to throw her off by skillfully passing the blade behind him and grasping it with his other hand. He let it soar, cutting the space between the two of them and aiming for her throat. However, Tamara's godly instincts kicked in and she fluidly bent back at the waist, her hands grasping the dirt as both feet clipped the shaft of his glaive mid-air. She locked it with both legs and gave out a scream of effort as she tossed it back with him along.

There was no use fighting the force, he realized. Instead, he went with it and flipped through the air, soaring and calmly focusing on his center of gravity so that he would not fall over once he landed. His feet hit the ground and he skidded back, his grasp on his weapon remaining firm so that he pulled it with him.

"Sometimes, Charles," he remembered someone telling him. "Your plans won't work. You can try your best to predict the nearest outcome, but it will still be inevitable. Once that happens, stop and let go. You'll find it easier if you just went along."

Tamara was panting, crouched on the floor. It seemed as though that move took a lot of her energy that she had to take a few breaths to recover.

Her defenses were down.

"Don't blame me for taking advantage of this opportunity. I will not pass this up," he whispered as he simultaneously drove in an attack.

Tamara's head snapped to his direction and held up her weapon in time to block it. However, lacking the strength to negate the force, she was forced to the ground. Charles mustered all the power he had in his muscles and transferred the pressure to his weapon.

The third-ranker gritted her teeth and everyone watched on with baited breath.

"Come on, Silver!" someone yelled from the crowd.

"Lord Charles!" someone else cheered.

Tamara took a deep breath and forced the blade to the side. She crawled and stumbled as she moved to run, desperate to put some distance between herself and the fourth-ranker.

Charles growled. "Why are you running?"

"I'm not running, I'm backing up! Clean your glasses, four eyes! It's called defense!" she screamed and stopped within a few feet, facing him and forming a stance with her weapon ready. "That was underhanded!"

"It's called strategy," Charles replied with a scoff. "Stop complaining. It's a battle. You can't expect your enemy to wait for you to breathe."

"Why am I not surprised? You were never the considerate one," Tamara said.

"Considerate? And who are you to make such accusation?"

"Godsdamn it, Charles. I've been wondering why you've been wearing glasses all these years when all you are is freaking blind!" She picked up a stone from the ground and hurled it at him in frustration.

"Wha-why are you throwing rocks?" he asked as one hit him on the chest.

She continued, one after another. "Why aren't you dodging?"

"Stop it!"

"I've been wanting to do it all these years, who are you to stop me?"

Soon, when she was out of ammo, she started conjuring rocks of ice out of air moisture. They varied in sizes and floated in the air, so one by one, she forced them his way like a meteor shower. She kicked, pushed, punched.

"What is this all of a sudden?"

"Why are you asking? For a smart guy, you're so dumb!"

She continued, raining down rocks of ice upon him. He raised his glaive and started tearing through them, parrying the ones that came dangerously close. Soon, he was fighting tens of them, then hundreds; until he could barely see his surroundings and no longer dodge. They hit him in the chest, the shoulders, the legs, the face and he could do nothing but cry out softly.

When it all stopped, a large one suddenly appeared-as big as two people would be curled up next to each other. He attempted to jump to the side, however, it still got him and threw him back. The ice crushed him against the ground before rolling away and dissipating.

He grunted and struggled, feeling weak all over.

Even so, he coerced himself to stand and prepare for Tamara's next attack.

"I don't know what provoked you to act that way, but at least you're going all out. I'd be furious if you're holding back," he said.

Lord Lovis frowned at the two of them. He had already reached the Twelve's regular seats and decided to sit down on Charles' place, his attention solely on the fight.

"That boy doesn't know when to give up. Such a stubborn son," he whispered. "Perhaps this is due to my shortcomings as a father."

Tamara's attacks did not stop. She lashed her double-bladed polearm at Charles after advancing, forcing him to weave to the side to evade. He brandished his glaive and met hers for another exchange. The clangs resounded and sparks ignited at contact. The force driving both parties to fight was overwhelming.

Kicks and punches were thrown. They mostly came from Tamara as she was seemingly the only one insistent on incorporating those moves to reinforce her attacks. Charles, however, was more straightforward and sharp with his blade as though he had perfectly melded with it. His movements were smooth and precise, showing his perfectionist self.

Their own styles resonated their personalities.

Tamara twirled her weapon between fingers like a baton, her arms passing overhead in an arc. Within seconds while her wrists crossed above, the shaft seemingly broke apart and her arms shoot out with attacks from twin swords.

Charles was once again caught off-guard and hurriedly adjusted his defense, however, Tamara's swiftness managed to land her a few slashes, screeching against the metal plates of his armor and tearing through the fabric, cutting open his skin.

And until then, he hadn't even gave her a single scratch.

I must admit that fabric is impressive, he thought. But it can't be that invincible. If I strike one part repeatedly, it will give in. I just need to find a way to cut through her defenses.

He summoned his power and pulled down the water from the clouds above. A thick pillar headed his way. With his glaive in the air, he performed different stances and motions with it in an incredibly fast pace. The water followed his movements and lashed at Tamara's way like howling whips.

Even if she tried using her blade to parry them, the water would simply cut through and hit her still. Not to mention the area of attack these ultra-sharp waters covered was vast. If she stayed and took the attack directly, her clothes, no matter how durable and force-resistant, would give in. It was virtually impossible to get out of this wounded.

"That's how you're playing it, huh? Damn, well, wait until you see me do this and that," she grumbled. "You're still such a child!"

She decided to fight head-on, element to element. Seeing as she could also control water, she threw a fist forward with her twin blades in both hands. However, water in its liquid form was not her specialty-it was ice. She hardened the incoming attacks, taking advantaged of their form to break them apart with her blades.

However, she could not dodge some of them. They struck at her clothes; some bounced off, some managed to tear through. She gritted her teeth and moved back where the attacks thinned.

Her body twisted and bent, her legs cutting through the air like her current weapons. She flipped and cartwheeled, springing from the ground and into the air before landing back again. Simultaneously, her hands worked, swinging and arcing adeptly as her twin swords danced between her fingers.

Charles continued summoning layer upon layers of whiplash waters and sending them Tamara's way. It was undoubtedly ruthless and cruel. It didn't seem as though anyone else aside from the Twelve and experienced knights like the Celestes were capable of holding up against it.

"This is crazy," someone from the crowd commented. "But amazing. How powerful is Lord Charles?! Damn, I'm so jealous. If only I can do something like that!"

"That girl is amazing! How can she hold up against that attack?"

Excited chatters floated.

When Charles' raging attack finally stopped, both of them were dead tired. Tamara did not look better than the fourth-ranker.

"You monstrous bastard, where'd you learn something like that?" Tamara asked.

"Same goes to those ice rocks you were throwing earlier," he replied. "I should be calling you the monster. You survived."

"Whatever. Come on, four-eyed fourth-ranker," Tamara said. "Let's go all out and end this thing."

"I agree, it's the perfect time considering who's come to watch," he replied, nodding towards the Twelve's seats.

They both turned and saw Lord Lovis staring at the both of them with his fingers laced under his chin. His eyes were like a pair of steel. It was impossible to know what he was thinking.

How surprising their father actually showed up.

"Before we end all this, let me ask you something," Tamara said, turning to look at Charles. She swallowed heavily and mustered her courage. "Why do you hate me?"

Charles turned away from her, refusing to meet her eyes. "This is not the time to ask such questions. The fight is only getting started."

"Then when?" She asked. "When will you freaking tell me why you hate me so much?!"

"Because that is not the case and there is no answer!" he replied fiercely.

To say Tamara was shocked was understatement. "What?"

"I do not hate you," he told her, sighing.

"You expect me to believe that?" she asked, furious.

She brandished her weapon and came at him, putting her strength on that one attack. Charles moved to block, but was pushed back at the sheer force behind it. He clenched his jaws and pushed against the ground to steady himself. However, an unexpected punch came from Tamara's way and struck at his face.

It targeted his glasses, and although it was a durable piece, it broke. This wasn't the first time he had been hit on the face, and he must admit inwardly that it damned hurt. The piece of his right eye fell off and rendered him nearly sightless.

"I ask you a serious question and you answer me with crap!"

"I am not-"

Clang! Tamara struck from above.

"Lying!" Charles started fighting back, letting his glaive cut through the air and hit Tamara's blade with equal might. "I should be asking you that damnable question myself!"

"Are you joking with me right now, you bigoted demon?" she queried, kicking his leg.

Charles stumbled backward and fell over just as Tamara came in for another attack. He held up his blade parried the blow as he stood up.

"How can you tell me I hate you?" Tamara told him. "I gave up my place as a daughter of your household. I renounced my rights to the position of heir so you would not have any competition!"

"Exactly," he told her. "You left."

Then all was silent.

"What?"

"Father favored you and I understood because his marriage with my mother was obligatory. His having me was obligatory. I was not a child born of love, but of obligations. You, however, were different. He loved your mother and you were someone born out of that."

Tamara blinked at him.

"It was so easy for you-everything."

"That's not true."

"Of course it was. You waltzed in those doors looking a ragged beggar off the streets and then you just smile like a godsdamned fool as though it's all nothing!"

"You look like a fancy little dude," he recalled her saying. "My name's Tamara, by the way. You live in this fancy castle? What's up with all these? Do you sleep in a different room every night?"

"Are you seriously bringing that up? You were a weak brat back then who could only bark and not bite. You were so rude!"

"How can you not expect me to tell you off? Your behavior was absolutely nauseating! During the first few days, you caused nothing but trouble-sleeping in a different room every night! You even made me get my clothes dirty!"

"Of course I slept in every room. I felt so bad for them not being used! And you told me yourself you wanted to play. When you get all your fancy little clothes dirty, you come back home crying! You were such a wussy!"

"And the worst of it all-father did not do anything to scold you! He just laughed it off!"

"Just say you're jealous because when you tried to do it, everyone went crazy and locked down the entire place and even arrested the servants at the thought of kidnapping! They even blamed me for being a bad example!"

They rushed at each other, growling. For some reason, the melodramatic atmosphere a few moments before had totally dissipated and became a comedy show.

"That's it, I'm going all all all out!" Tamara exclaimed.

She pulled all the water from the ground that they used a while ago. This time, she formed sharp-tipped ices and layered them in different waves for an attack. Charles frowned at her move but he had nothing that could defend him against this, so he did what everybody else would think of in that situation-run.

I can't think up of anything.

He took cover in the layer of trees. However, Tamara had already launched her attack. Just when he got behind a huge, half-burned trunk, the icicles came raining down from above. He had no choice and stood upright, his weapon in front of him as he valiantly faced the new obstacle thrown his way.

The icicles seemed limitless. He dodged one as he fought off another. He took cover, tree after tree, rock after rock. They kept on coming. He could not believe it! There was no end to these things! Tamara was such a monster. How could she do all these?

He used whiplash waters in this style, but what he did a while ago paled in comparison to this.

He moved continuously until his lungs burned and his muscles ached for rest. He faltered from the tiredness he felt and sweated heavily until one icicle zoomed in and tore through his armor. The damnable thing actually managed to stab through his defense and tear open the skin of his chest. He stumbled back and collapsed as the coldness bit at him harshly. After that, another whipped past and sliced his leg open.

Luckily enough, the reinforced metal of his armor did not give in too much. The wound he got was superficial. Although it managed to wound him a bit, it was not too deep. With one sweep of his blade, he cut off the shaft of the icicle and let the sharp point that penetrated his skin to melt. In an instant, he was already soaked with his own blood.

The rain of Tamara's attacks finally thinned out and eventually disappeared. However, the air around them was suddenly so dry that his throat itched.

He moved further back to where the lake they dug-up had been and sought the reservoir of water that rippled steadily there. With the summons that came earlier, it was not as plentiful as it originally had been, but the amount present would suffice.

He wielded the waters and they all spun to his fingers obediently. In seconds, he dried up the lake just when Tamara came around. He shot it her way in a highly pressured stream, carrying the force of a hundred rivers.

"Larkov," she found herself saying.

His remaining power was being drained away. After this, he would no longer be able to attack.

Tamara attempted to jump to the side and run off, but Charles predicted this and changed the trajectory with a flick of his wrist. The third-ranker's upper body was caught at the stream and forced her back several feet away until she hit a huge rock.

Her vision spun as her head crashed against the surface. She slid down to the ground when it all stopped, drenched wet. Her hair was limp against her face and she was suffocated. Taking in all the breath she could, she looked up at the sky. She felt weakened and struggled to move. Even so, she got back up to her feet and glared stubbornly at Charles.

"You're bleeding," she whispered, her eyes zeroing in on the open wound on his chest. He had his left hand pressed against it, but the blood seeped through his fingers in rivulets, staining his fair skin.

Charles panted. "So are you."

It was then that her vision was drenched in red. Her hand reached up to her face and she discovered that blood was streaming down her face.

"I'm not going to pass out until I defeat you. I will graduate with a rank no less than three," Tamara willfully said.

It wasn't enough, Charles mourned.

With all the strength she had left, she summoned all the water within the vicinity. They came under her control and meandered around her in tumultuous torrents. Everyone knew she was drawing on her last reserves of strength to force him down, sparing no energy on this last move.

It was hit or miss.

If she doesn't manage to force Charles to surrender or knock him out, then she would pass out and the position would be his. The only thing keeping her going now was her will and the desire to prevail.

Charles was still bleeding. He had grown weakened from all the dodging and defending against Tamara's notorious icicles. His knees were shaking beneath him. The only thing keeping him upright was his glaive. He gripped it like a lifeline. Looking at his older, half-sister, he could only gasp out short breaths. He could not believe that after all the efforts it took to prepare for this duel, he was still reduced to such a state.

Not to mention, wounds he never knew existed started appearing. They soaked him and caused his clothes to glue uncomfortably at his skin. He never even knew how tired he felt.

"Move, dammit!" shouted the audience.

I can't.

The waters around Tamara turned into several, twisted pillars. They curved to the sky like snaking dragons before lunging for him. He could only stare as they came. He could not even lift a finger. The strength had entirely left his body. He could only stand, and wait.

I am still . . . too weak.

He tipped back his head and took a deep breath, embracing himself for the impact. The water rushed at him, roaring like enraged predators. When they crashed into his body, he could only pull in a breath.

It forced him to fly off very much like before. Then, in a matter of seconds, he hit the walls of the arena. The collision rang and everyone could not help but gasp. There were cracks and when the water receded, he fell down and crashed on the ground. His armor had taken most of the brunt of the force and saved his bones from being crushed. However, he just lost the fight.

I'm still too weak, he repeated inside his brain.

His eyes were dimming when Tamara walked up to him.

I lack your will. I lack your strength. He breathed, but could not speak. A lone tear escaped his right eye and slid down his nose. Everything I do to show off, you do better. Damn you.

It all didn't matter to Tamara. Her eyes glinted with mixed emotions. "The next duel we'll fight will be outside the academy walls. I'll be waiting for you, then. But for now . . ." She paused. "Little brother, you've done well."

The healing team rushed down the arena. Tamara weakly walked up to them while a girl ran for her.

"Are you alright, Miss Tamara?" she asked. "Please don't sleep just yet-let me . . ."

The third-ranker suddenly passed out in her arms. The girl paled slightly in panic while the spectators roared about the turn of events. The crowd noisily chattered.

Keelan looked to Lady Seraphina's way, and he was given a nod. "This duel's winner, Tamara Silver-defending her position as third-ranker!"

There were cheers.

"Charles fell short," Lovis said as he stood and tugged on his sleeves. "He's not used having no plans. I told him it won't work out every time. He didn't listen."

Headmaster Kylon walked up to Lovis just in time to hear his monologue. "He has a long way to go. If he had not started overthinking things and relied on his instincts a bit more, he would've had a better chance."

Lovis nodded.

"Do you need escorting out of the arena?" he asked.

"Are you not needed here?"

"I left the responsibilities of managing to Lady Seraphina. I hope you enjoyed the duel?"

"The duel . . . well, it's satisfactory."