To say I was shocked by the unfolding events would be a gross understatement. I lay there, sprawled on the bed, gazing blankly at the ceiling. My thoughts were completely vacant, filled with nothing but a profound emptiness. The feeling lasted for about ten minutes before giving way to boiling anger.
I was engulfed by an urge to seize a sledgehammer and reduce everything in sight to rubble. Then, I wanted to scale the highest point in Wilflaes and scream at the top of my lungs that I was breaking the Treaty. It took a Herculean effort to rein in my rage. The most logical action would have been to slip into the Break and find solace there, but after a subtle hint from the count, it became clear I was probably under surveillance. This was likely a preventive measure, in case I decided to act rashly or attempt to escape.
My next inclination was to call Zanh Kiem, hoping he could offer some assistance. He might have been able to devise a solution or possibly convince that Koenig von Raun, who had inconveniently crossed my path.
However, I knew that frenzy, rage, and anger were ill advisors. So, I forced myself to relax, reclining against the pillow, and initiated a calming meditation. The internal turmoil made the process more challenging, but recalling the lessons of the Maker, I managed to clear my mind, if only slightly.
Once the meditation ended, my first course of action was to call the nurse and ask her to bring me the dueling code of Novilter. The speed at which she delivered it hinted that Gabriel had anticipated my request. The code was a massive tome, about five hundred pages thick, bound in old-fashioned leather that commanded respect at first glance. I quickly leafed through the book. It appeared to cover every conceivable nuance of dueling, including formal challenges and the rights of all parties involved. Despite my eagerness, I knew I wouldn't be able to thoroughly study such a monumental work in a single night. But that was unnecessary, as the bulk of the text dealt with duels between nobles. As for fights unequal in class, only one chapter at the very end was dedicated to them.
I began to scrutinize the text. I read it once, then again, and narrowly held back the urge to hurl the book at the wall. The chapter, in essence, distilled down to two points: firstly, a noble is always correct, and secondly, the proper way for a commoner to die so as not to taint their patron's honor with their passing. However, what did I expect? The societal structure here only bears a superficial resemblance to what I am accustomed to - it is, in reality, a legitimate Middle Ages.
What if I had been truly a common man? The answer was straightforward - I would have been dead by tomorrow, with no alternatives. Because a commoner had no chance in a "fair" duel against a shapeshifter, particularly under the rules defined by the dueling code. I obviously wouldn't let myself be killed by a pompous noble jerk, but still, the situation was infuriating! To exert so much effort for concealment, to have hidden for months the fact that I was a raig, and to jeopardize it all because of an idiot seeking to prove himself by demeaning what he perceived as weak and powerless. In order to survive the duel, I would definitely need to utilize the Break.
Alright! Fundamental postulate: I needed to win the duel to survive. Moreover, although I didn't possess a malicious or vindictive nature, it would be preferable to kill this von Raun. Simply because if he remained alive, he would inevitably repeat today's actions, and perhaps this wasn't his first time indulging in such amusement. He needed to be permanently stopped. Not for revenge, but because I was a Knight, and it was my duty to protect people. Perhaps I was now interpreting the BKDW oath somewhat liberally, but these thoughts somehow soothed me.
The primary goal was established. Now I needed to contemplate how to minimize the aftermath of such a fight outcome. I immediately recalled Maya's duel in a stadium teeming with spectators. No, I definitely needed to steer clear of that kind of attention. With that in mind, I delved into the dueling code. By sunset, I had a rough plan of my actions, and after a sumptuous dinner that was fit for a king, I had nearly made up my mind.
I couldn't avoid or win the duel without employing my raig powers. To be more precise, I could have, but only by losing everything and becoming a fugitive, which was an outcome I categorically rejected. Therefore, I needed to lessen the repercussions of utilizing my powers.
Firstly, I needed to ensure a private duel. A duel was deemed private if only the duelists and their seconds were present with no other spectators. "No one else" - that was exactly what I needed. Koenig von Raun was a foreign student with a seemingly nasty and arrogant demeanor. Would he find anyone among his peers willing to be his second? Especially when the Count of Runar himself would act as mine? I suspected that all the local students would flee from such an "honor". So, I could ask Gabriel to appoint one of the teachers as a "public second" and choose someone who would remain tight-lipped if requested by the people from House on the Hill.
Secondly, I needed to keep my abilities under wraps as much as possible. My goal wasn't to engage in a prolonged fight like Maya, who sought revenge for her humiliation, but to swiftly take down my opponent. A savage grin spread across my face. Well, achieving that shouldn't be a problem.
Eyes closed, I envisioned my plan. As soon as the signal for the duel sounded, I would slip into the Break, draw "Word," activate Sliding, thrust forward, and return to reality. All of this would occur in less than a second. I would still be standing, while von Raun would already be dead, oblivious to his demise. That was the plan. Swift, simple, and clean. Exactly what I wanted. However, before executing this, I needed to convince Gabriel to allow for a duel format that suited my needs - one that involved a private duel in a secluded location.
The toughest part wouldn't be the battle preparations or even the fight itself, but what would come after: a serious discussion with the duke's youngest son. However, I had a few aces up my sleeve. Technically, the count was my patron and I was utterly confident that I could make him see the advantages of having a covert raig in his future group of overseers. Gabriel was sharp and would undoubtedly grasp the benefits and potential of such an alliance quickly. Plus, I would owe him a favor.
I mentally rehearsed this plan a dozen times and felt content with it. There might have been other ways to navigate this situation with fewer losses, but I couldn't think of any. This plan suited me very well. Why? Because each time I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the same scene: "Know your place!" followed by a slap that sent Claire sprawling to the ground.
This brute would meet his end tomorrow. I had decided. They say, "When surrounded by wolves, one must learn to howl!" Well... You've pushed me to this point, and now I fully embrace the truth of these words! My left palm radiated a comforting warmth in response to my thoughts, indicating that "Purity" - or rather, Izao - also believed that those who harm girls should be put in their place.
Visualizing Koenig von Raun's lifeless body sprawled on the sandy floor of an imaginary arena managed to erase the figure of Claire falling on the grass from my mind.
I once read that even thinking about revenge could bring temporary peace. Now, I could confirm that this was indeed true. I fell asleep quickly, a satisfied smile on my face.
"Ahem." A soft cough startled me awake.
Oh! Wow! How long had I been asleep? The sun was already high in the window!
"Good morning, sir," I greeted the Count of Runar, who sat beside my bed. He was dressed in a summer shirt, linen trousers, and a lightweight, almost weightless scarf. I had expected him to be more formally attired. "Could you tell me what time it is?"
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"Exactly nine in the morning," the patron replied morosely, clicking his ball pen. He then leaned forward, boring into me with his gaze. "When I decided to gather talented students and personally mentor them, I never dared to hope that such a unique group would form. Each one of them is exceptionally talented, extraordinary, and vibrant: Jan, Christian, Claire. But even among them, you are a real gem, Izao. Until this morning, I thought you were nothing more than a headache. But when I walked into this room and saw you sleeping peacefully with a contented smile on your face... Even the best of us can hardly remain so composed in the face of impending death."
"I haven't lost the duel yet!" I retort with a smile, sitting upright in bed.
"Of course, of course," he nodded, his facial expression clearly conveying his opinion of my bravado. "But now I understand what someone meant when they referred to you as 'a student with balls of steel.'"
"I know that man," I responded, quickly noticing a cup of steaming tea on my bedside table. "Thank you!" Taking a sip, I continued, "I have a question."
"Yes?"
"How many people know about the upcoming duel?"
"Not many, only those who were present."
"And the rumors haven't spread further?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Such 'rumors' wouldn't bode well for my reputation, so I've taken steps to ensure they don't," he admitted frankly and, apparently, truthfully.
"According to the code," I said, patting the volume on the stool next to me, "as the challenged party, I can dictate the terms of the duel."
"In theory, yes, but in practice..." the count grinned, twirling his pen.
"In practice, if there's a disparity in social classes, such a rule may not be observed; it depends on how powerful the commoner's patron is. And you..."
"Yes, you're correct, I can arrange it."
"Then my terms..." I began, before quickly adding, "There are two of them."
"I'm listening," Gabriel said, clicking his ball pen and pulling out a notebook.
"The first is a 'private duel.'"
"Noted."
"The second: the fight must take place without spectators and any record."
"You don't want anyone to witness your death? Well, it can be said that you died with dignity then; it won't harm me. I agree. Is that all?" Waiting for my nod, he tucked the notebook away.
"That's all! And yes, I remind you, I haven't lost yet."
"I heard you. What about weapons? Von Raun will give you a choice."
"Any."
"Firearms with silver bullets are prohibited," Gabriel declared.
"It's stated here," I pointed to the dueling code again.
The count, who was calm just a moment ago, suddenly flung his ball pen to the floor, jumped up from his chair, and grabbed me by the throat, cutting off my breath. To prevent me from moving, he pressed his knee onto my chest. His sudden change in behavior left me somewhat shocked. However, even if I had foreseen this, I wouldn't have been able to resist the shapeshifter without using my raig powers.
"If I'm correct, just blink," growled the Duke's youngest son, pressing me into the bed so hard my ribs threatened to crack.
I blinked.
"You didn't leave the ward after our conversation."
I blinked.
"You didn't call anyone."
I blinked.
"You didn't contact anyone else."
I blinked.
"You didn't seek help from anyone."
I blinked.
Cursing, the Count released me and flopped back into his chair like a spent lemon. I rubbed my throat with my palm, relieved to find nothing seemed broken. I dared not speak or make enquiries; I just waited.
"There won't be a duel," Gabriel finally broke the silence after what felt like an eternity.
"What?" I croaked, failing to comprehend the situation.
"Koenig von Raun was killed in his cottage tonight." My eyes widened in surprise. "His throat was slashed and pure silver powder was poured into the wound." The Count leaned in again, scrutinizing my face. "Don't you understand?"
My throat still ached a bit, so I blinked.
"Such a death is the ultimate humiliation for a shapeshifter," he growled. "To kill one of us in that manner, one must be ten times stronger than the victim. And even though Koenig von Raun was a thoroughgoing scoundrel, he was no weakling. I wouldn't even have the strength to execute it so cleanly..."
"Could he have been poisoned or sedated beforehand?" I suggested in a whisper.
"There's no sign of poisoning, and von Raun was conscious when he was killed. That's certain. Someone simply crushed the best fighter of the third year like a bug that had accidentally flown in through the window. Crushed him casually, painfully, and utterly humiliatingly."
"That definitely wasn't me," I replied in a more confident voice.
"Definitely not you," the Count agreed. "There were four cameras on you the whole time."
"Oh, I see..." I didn't even need to feign surprise. Four cameras, really?! "But why didn't you tell me right away?" I knew the answer, but the original Izao would have asked.
"I was observing your reaction. And it was genuine. You clearly didn't know anything about Koenig von Raun's death or the cancellation of the duel."
"I really didn't."
"One question remains: did someone assist you, or was it just a coincidence and Koenig had crossed paths with someone else yesterday?" Gabriel rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. "If it weren't for von Raun's character, which apparently earned him ten enemies a day, the answer would be straightforward."
"I didn't ask anyone for help!" If he asked whether I had such influential friends or patrons, I'd be in trouble; I needed to lead the conversation elsewhere. "And my friends, Claire and Christian, are hardly capable of something like this. Even if they were, they wouldn't risk everything for me."
"They didn't know anything about the duel at all," the Count stated.
"I wouldn't ask anyone to help me anyway!" I tried to portray an air of youthful stubbornness. "I was determined to win the duel!"
"Do you think that being a Feeler-level sensum will give you an upper hand in a duel?" The Count laughed, misinterpreting my words. "The idea that sensums are equal to shapeshifters is nothing more than a common misconception. To stand a chance against von Raun, you would need to evolve your Spark to the upper boundaries of the Seer level overnight. And that's impossible."
'Medical confidentiality.' It appeared that the Chief Physician of the university had a rather loose interpretation of this concept. Or perhaps, the Seer was under oath to the ruling House and was obligated to disclose everything he knew about me if Gabriel demanded it. Nonetheless, this turned out to be advantageous for me, leading the Count off-track.
"Your reputation?" I whispered, steering the conversation further away from the dangerous topic at hand.
"There will be losses," he said, smiling for the first time. "But also gains."
"Ah?" I was confused.
"Koenig von Raun is an outsider who harmed a man under my protection. And then he died! He died disgracefully, like a filthy rat from a trash clan, and not as a representative of a noble family." Was it just me, or did a smirk just flash across his face? "I would say that the gains outweigh the slight dent to my formal reputation."
"So, does this mean I'm not expelled?"
"Moreover, you continue to be a part of my group." Rising from his chair, Gabriel moved towards the door, but paused and turned back to me. "However, if I discover that you had a hand in von Raun's death, then... I will personally see you hanged. Do you understand?"
"I do."
"In five minutes, the doctor will come in, treat you, and you're free." With these words, he tossed me his scarf. "Conceal the bruise. And you're excused from today's lectures."
Before I could respond, the Count of Runar had exited the ward.
What a twist!
But who had killed von Raun?
Only one name came to mind - Zanh Kiem. However, the Maker would never have acted in such a manner, let alone resort to a humiliating killing.
Oh, there was another possibility!
Mr. Rock could have been the culprit if he had known my secret. If it had been him, he would definitely have eliminated the problem without any emotional baggage or fake remorse. But I doubted he knew that Izao and Maestro were the same person.
I was utterly clueless.
Was it possible that Gabriel was correct, and it was just a coincidence?
I was snapped out of my thoughts by the arrival of the Seer. He entered the ward, guiltily spread his hands, healed my neck, and left without uttering a word. As soon as he was gone, a nurse came in with my belongings and medical documents.
Having changed, I tied my scarf and stepped out onto the street, making an effort to stroll nonchalantly. The fresh breeze felt pleasant against my face.
Veering off the main road onto a narrow path, I began the hunt for an empty bench. I yearned for the tranquility of the outdoors to deliberate in silence. Upon finding one, I promptly claimed it, stretching out and closing my eyes as I reached my arms up toward the sky. At that moment, a rogue palm leaf, likely torn off by the wind, collided with my face, sticking to my cheek. Annoyed, I peeled the leaf from my skin, preparing to discard it when something unusual caught my eye. A message, written with an assured hand, was plainly visible.
The moment I finished reading it, the leaf in my grasp aged as if a year had passed in an instant, then crumbled through my fingers into almost weightless ash.
The message was rather succinct: "You should not dirty your hands with scum, Sire!"