I had to sprint towards the dormitory as the sky started to release a gentle shower before I had even managed to walk a hundred steps away from my meeting spot with Maya. The raindrops were initially sparse, but with each passing second, the deluge intensified. Fortuitously, I managed to seek shelter under the canopy at the entrance of the building just as the heavens opened, unleashing a real torrential downpour typical of this region.

The superintendent was nowhere in sight; presumably, he was occupied with the monitors or busy elsewhere. I was glad for his absence, as I didn't particularly want to encounter him at that moment. First, I needed to validate my hypothesis, mull it over, and look for any inconsistencies. Only then could I devise an appropriate approach for interacting with Mr. Redtliff.

Upon reaching my room, where I now resided alone, I placed Maya's abandoned textbook on the bedside table and sprawled out on the left bed. Was it worth the "struggle" to claim it? Well, it was rightfully mine now. As I understood now, I was the only one who actually "fought," while Tom was preoccupied with something entirely different. Wait, I shouldn't allow my thoughts to jump around like a grasshopper in a field; instead, I should start from the beginning and trace the sequence of events.

So...

My initial assumption: the superintendent recruited me. This didn't contradict my impressions from our last conversation and it completely explained Tom's behaviour. It's likely that Mr. Redtliff's original plan was straightforward. My roommate would exert pressure on me and when the "meek, oppressed" prospective student was on the verge of despair, the superintendent, like a knight in shining armor, would swoop in and rescue the victim. Cliché? Yes, but the scheme is effective. I'm completely certain that the original Izao would have fallen for this ploy hook, line, and sinker. However, the plan failed for two reasons. Firstly, the obvious one - I'm not Izao. The second reason: while Tom might have appeared to be a brute who could easily manhandle someone, he was in reality a very different character. But even without the first reason, the scheme could have worked. For Izao, even this minimal pressure from a roommate would have been enough to induce panic.

So, the "recruitment theory" elucidates both the superintendent's peculiar behavior and Tom's overt lack of enthusiasm in pressuring me. It also accounts for why my temporary roommate, supposedly "accidentally," informed me about Mr. Redtliff's interest in me. It appears that Tom initially agreed to the superintendent's proposition to mildly bully the nerd, especially as he was promised a recommendation to the university coach. But upon reflection, Tom opted out of the agreement, either due to his inability to understand the superintendent's motives or disbelief in his words. My peculiar conduct also played a part, albeit not the decisive one as I had initially thought.

After my dialogue with the superintendent before dinner, I questioned whether my recruitment was a figment of my imagination - I failed to see the logic behind it. But after encountering Maya during my walk, the motivation and rationale behind Mr. Redtliff's actions became clear.

Allow me to expound on my hypothesis. Undeniably, the raig girl is the cornerstone. She's one of the three open, that is, those not concealing their identities, Break Knights in the country. The initial point to comprehend is her presence on the campus. The physics textbook seemingly provides a clue. I'm ninety-nine percent certain she's not a student; she's of the same age as Izao, who had graduated at seventeen while most finish at eighteen. Hence, we can conjecture that Maya, like me, is enrolling at the university this year.

Does it seem like a far-fetched theory? Maybe, if you overlook one detail... Specifically, the Maker-mentor's prediction that Maya's life is intertwined with robots! In this world, ignoring such omens of destiny is unusual. Besides, there's only one robotics faculty in the entire country, located right here at Novilter State University. It's simple to verify my hypothesis. If Maya is on the list of applicants and plans to join my faculty, then this speculation can be elevated to the status of an "almost confirmed theory."

For now, let's hypothetically assume I'm correct, and the situation is as I surmise. So, I need to figure out why someone needed Izao.

Let's connect the dots. I'll interpolate using my life experience, and here's the response.

What's BKDW? Nothing more than the official organization of the Break Knights, under the patronage of the governing bodies and clerics. Raigs are not only provided informational cover but also trained. Moreover, they not only monitor and analyze the Knights themselves but also the individuals surrounding them. Similar work is conducted even with the third-grade assistants of ambassadors in most states. And open raigs are a much more valuable and slightly hazardous "resource." I am confident that if the locals are not fools, substantial resources are allocated for working with BKDW. This is logical because, even if the Knights are trustworthy and not scheming, it doesn't matter - if something happens to them, and they can't halt another Breakthrough... In such a scenario, the capital can be obliterated, or even the entire country, along with all its inhabitants. And this is disregarding such a detail that any raig could physically annihilate the entire ruling elite of the country. Just sever them from the Break, and almost nobody would be able to hinder him. Almost. Except for a few Makers with unique talents and other Knights. I believe only absolute idiots would neglect these threats and allow such a situation to evolve unchecked.

I'm aware of one curator of the organization, although he's not particularly secretive and is known to all open raigs - Hyungang Tu Chong.

Are there other curators? At least two organizations claim this role. The first being the House on the Hill, which also officially supports BKDW. Then, there's the special service - accomplishing certain tasks here is impossible without them. The only question is, can these two entities be separated? If the ruling power is potent, then the special services are inseparable from it. As far as I understand, the duke governs the country firmly and isn't reluctant to display toughness. Of course, there's a nuance: all intelligence and secret services invariably have their own agenda. Sometimes minor, sometimes significant, but it's always there. It's in their nature, so to speak.

Let's postulate there is a division, and aside from Tu Chong, there are two more curators. So, a total of three. Who among them decided to involve the young Izao in their game?

There's only one feasible option - the House on the Hill. Not the duke himself, but the structures beneath him. For instance, his security service led by the "Alihark's Loyal Dogs" clan, to which Mr. Redtliff is a vassal. Given the local structure of relationships, no one would dare meddle with a person associated with such a powerful family and coerce them into working for someone else - it could instigate a clan war. Moreover, I don't believe there's any need to introduce unnecessary entities at this juncture. Furthermore, the official bodyguards of the ducal family simply cannot overlook the theoretical threat from the raigs. They are compelled to keep tabs on all the Knights within their reach.

Yes, it's a bit of a stretch, but I can discern a logical connection here. And, no one is going to present me with irrefutable evidence on a silver platter.

I now turn to the most critical question, personally. Why Izao?

If I'm correct, and Maya enrolls in the Faculty of Robotics, wouldn't it be more sensible to not just recruit anyone, but to assign your own people to her group? Yes, I'm certain there will be such "students" as well. I should, by the way, be wary of those who appear older than their age but are supposedly seventeen to nineteen years old according to their documents.

Hold on. The Maker's Prediction "about robots" was voiced rather recently, less than a month ago. That means, Maya didn't initially choose my faculty. She needed time to ponder, to weigh everything. She could have decided on such a step quite recently. Moreover, she's an official Knight, which means she's granted concessions. And the university will go to great lengths to secure such a notable individual. They will make any concessions, including enrolling her outside the general admission process.

No, even if that is the case, the curators from the Castle wouldn't necessarily rush things. There's ample time before the start of the academic year to prepare everything and place whoever they need. They don't have to recruit the first student they encounter.

However...

There's a particular nuance...

I'm not the "first student they came across."

I can picture it vividly. An analyst sits at his desk when he receives the order: Maya Grim is enrolling at Novilter State University, perform a standard check. He initiates a program that searches for matches and coincidences. And then his screen starts blinking, highlighting one name - Izao Vaillant. The analyst starts digging and uncovers a number of intriguing links. The first incidental connection of this individual with Maya is during the incident with Diana Horn. The second is the encounter between Maya Grim and Thomas Sivorsky with the same person during a reconnaissance and diplomatic mission in Troyusse. The third - he is enrolling in the same higher education institution and faculty as the one under supervision. Having confirmed all this, the analyst prints the data and scribbles on the cover page: "Izao Vaillant - further examination required!"

Of course, this is all my speculation, but it could very well be the reality. Most likely, the check was routine and revealed nothing. If they had taken me seriously, they would have searched the apartment... They would have found the motorcycle suit... And the game involving me would have escalated to a completely different level, with entirely different players. But why should they search? After all, while in the Break, Maya spent several hours in my apartment! And she didn't notice anything "incriminating." And routine checks based on coincidences don't include such drastic measures.

They examined my records: clean, clean, clean, a coincidence, my grandfather was buried in Troyusse, the university application documents were completed long before Maya Grim decided to attend, and even before the prediction "about robots" was announced. Verdict: "Place him under surveillance, utilize if possible. Note - Izao Vaillant favors robotic clothing and may be part of Maker Hyungang Tu Chong's prophecy."

Why employ me? Simply because there can't be too many informants or likely sources of influence. You could have a dozen informants, but you'd be incompetent if you have an opportunity to gain one more and ignore it. Especially when no additional efforts are required to recruit such an informant, and you can manage with the resources already in place. All that's needed is to arrange for Izao Vaillant to reside in a specific campus building where their agent is already stationed.

Perhaps I'm fabricating this whole scenario. I might be succumbing to what's known as "apophenia," the tendency to perceive connections and meaningful patterns among unrelated or random events. But my assumptions create a strikingly coherent web of connections. Moreover, there's one unknown fact in my theory that can be tested. It remains to be seen whether Maya will be enrolling in the university, and if so, which faculty?

I fell asleep purely out of exhaustion; otherwise, I would've kept pondering various things deep into the night, examining other possibilities and links.

I was fortunate to wake up exactly at eight. I was so absorbed in my thoughts yesterday that I forgot to set the alarm. That could've spelled trouble if I'd overslept and missed the first test at the university. I quickly showered, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and headed for the door. Instantly, my left hand felt a chill.

"What do you want, 'Purity'?!"

It pulls me back into the room.

I step back a few paces.

What?

Okay, let's play a game of hot and cold, shall we?

The blade remains nonresponsive.

Oh, well, what does this white blade need? What's it yearning for?

I glance around the room.

Actually...

Maya's textbook, it needs to be returned.

Warmth in the palm.

I get you! I understand!

And yes, thanks!

Honestly, it had completely slipped my mind.

Carrying the textbook, I exited the room, and this time "Purity" remained silent. Then, descending to the lobby, I greeted the superintendent, who was replacing a light bulb while standing on a stepladder. He wished me success in my test in return. Interestingly, he wished me success, not luck — a subtle clue pointing to my speculations about his past and, perhaps, ongoing work.

Four fellow students from my group were already gathered outside the adjacent building, immersed in discussion and brandishing problem books on various subjects. I considered it and decided not to join them, choosing to sit alone. However, my solitude didn't last long — Nicholas appeared. If anyone hadn't bothered with preparation, it was him. Instead of a textbook, he had a manga volume in his hand, something new, and a sleepy smile on his face.

We chatted for about ten minutes about the distinct drawing styles of various comic book authors. Thanks to Izao, I was well-versed in this subject. Additionally, I hadn't forgotten about my little dream: to introduce this world to the Battletech universe. I just want to learn to draw. Generally, the conversation turned out to be more engaging for me than I had expected. As soon as we delved into the specifics, Sophie arrived.

Initially, the girl inquired about my wellbeing and then gathered the entire group, providing a brief lecture. From her talk, we gathered that future students from various technical faculties, not just robotics, would be taking the test concurrently. It was to be held in the central lecture hall, which could accommodate almost a thousand seats.

She then led us, even though everyone had already familiarized themselves with the way. As usual, she didn't pause in her chatter for a moment. However, after Sophie's expression of concern for my health, the girl and her ceaseless chatter seemed less irritating.

As we neared the academic buildings, our guide halted.

"Young men," she turned towards us, "I've gathered that you're all quite polite and versed in etiquette. I'm confident you don't need reminding to refrain from initiating conversation with the nobility and not to stare at them. You know that among your peers are the offspring of clans, some even foreigners." Everyone nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't have brought this up, but this year presents a unique situation in many respects." Everyone was silent, and I had already guessed what was to be discussed next. "This year, our university, our faculty..." I'm not paranoid, but a logician! "Is joined by Break Knight Maya Grim!"

No, I was aware she was popular, particularly among young men, but I didn't anticipate such an outpouring of emotion from the guys in our group. I didn't think a group of nerds could create such a commotion! Only I and Nicholas, who seemed oblivious to who they were talking about, remained composed. After waiting for everyone to quiet down, Sophie resumed.

"That's what I feared. I have an important request: don't attempt to speak to her first, don't ask for autographs, don't stare, don't... She is a Knight, an official one, and she isn't bound by the restrictions and etiquette of the clans, as she isn't a shapeshifter. She can officially challenge you to a duel, and the fact that the challenge is thrown at a commoner doesn't tarnish her family's honor in any way. I must warn you, at the university, although in a somewhat diluted form, the familiar social norms still apply. Maya Grim is first and foremost a Knight, and then a beautiful and popular girl. Do you understand?! And yes, if you disgrace me with your lack of manners, I will remember this!" Apparently, if it happens, she'll talk you to death – she's quite capable of it.

Continuing with her lecture, Sophie led us onward. We arrived at the designated academic building fifteen minutes before the test was due to start.

"So," she consulted her paper, "our group is number forty-five. Yes, just after them." She indicated another small group similar to ours. "Enter one by one, in a line. Leave all your belongings except clothing, shoes, and cards on the designated tables. Yes, Pakro, even your pens. They will provide you with one. Follow the stewards' instructions afterward; they are likely your seniors who volunteered. You will be shown to your seat and given sheets of paper and pens. Then everyone will be handed the test simultaneously, and a timer will begin." She glanced around conspiratorially. "Nobody knows the exact questions, but usually, they are problems. The quantity ranges from twenty to forty. No one will tell you, but the time you take to solve the problems also influences the result." She glanced back again. "But I didn't tell you that!"

Sometimes her chatter proved to be useful. She just offered us a valuable tip.

It was our turn, and I walked through the wide-open double doors.

"Card? Thank you. Put your textbook and all your belongings here. Good. Your seat is in row twelve, seat seven. Take your card. Next, please!"

The hall was enormous, with twenty levels of tiered seats. In the center was a podium space and an incredibly large board. There was also a projector and a drop-down screen.

The first row was nearly empty, occupied only by five individuals on its benches. Four young men, all uniformly fit with proud postures, wore formal suits in clan colors. Interestingly, judging by the colors, one of the nobles belonged to the "Alihark's Dogs." It seemed the guys weren't bothered by the clandestine "planting" at all - they tackled the issue in the most straightforward manner. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. Maya was the fifth occupant of this "elite" row. She was dressed in a tight steel-colored vest with a snow-white shirt underneath. Her hair was cut into a short, choppy bob, and... Oh! She had dyed it back to her natural dark color! I hadn't noticed this the night before. However, had it not been for her cry, I wouldn't have recognized the girl then. I wonder if Yuki's words really hit her that hard. Perhaps they did.

Sophie had warned us not to gawk, and I'm certain the chaperones of other groups had relayed the same caution to their charges. However, this advice was largely unheeded: everyone threw surreptitious glances at Maya, from prospective students to senior students, even including teaching staff. Even clan members, who seemed entirely indifferent on the surface, occasionally stole curious glances at the Break Knight.

Maya, for her part, appeared wholly unbothered; she sat quietly, her gaze roaming freely. That is, until she spotted me. The girl visibly jolted and immediately looked away. I couldn't understand it - what sort of phobia did she harbor towards me? When had I provoked such a reaction?

I took my seat and cast my eyes to the ceiling. Truthfully, I was somewhat stung by Maya's reaction. It left a lingering unpleasant feeling.

Five minutes before nine, we were handed folders containing a pencil, a ball pen, seven blank sheets stamped with our names, stitched together, and a sealed envelope that we were forbidden to open before given the command.

Precisely at nine, we were permitted to open the envelopes and familiarize ourselves with the test. We were given a total of three hours to solve all problems.

First, no need to rush. What do we have here? Three dozen tasks. Logic, physics, mathematics, chemistry. A fitting set for tech enthusiasts, nothing more. I began with a general analysis. The first five tasks were simple, comparable to the level of early high school, if not easier. Then the difficulty began to increase. Gradually... Wait. The last five - they were hair-raising. Quantum physics, imaginary numbers in complex analysis, calculating residual heat during a reaction? Seriously? It wasn't just that Izao didn't understand these; I myself couldn't recall how to solve them! I decided to immediately rule them out - I wouldn't waste my time on them.

I began with the easiest problems. It was swift work, with eighteen solutions completed in fifteen minutes. There were seven problems remaining, over which I had to labor and truly stretch my cognitive abilities, but I managed. What was the time? Still another two hours and ten minutes until the end of the test. I assessed the situation. Only two papers had been handed in. No, that wouldn't do: I couldn't stand out like that. I decided to sit and keep my head down for the time being and aim to be among the third ten of students to hand in their work. Given that there were more than three hundred people in the hall, that would be perfectly acceptable.

My gaze fell on the first problems. They were simple, even elementary. So, what was catching my attention?

"There are twenty-three students in a class. What is the probability that at least two students celebrate their birthdays on the same day? Consider the number of days in a year as three hundred and sixty-five."

I solved it by dividing twenty-three by three hundred and sixty-five and got the answer. This was the correct solution. So, what was nagging at me?

Aha! This was a trap! I was misled by the fact that this problem was listed as number three, and I had dismissed it as elementary. But no! It couldn't be solved in the way I had initially tried! Rack your brain, remember! Ah! I recalculated. The probability turned out to be fifty point seventy-three percent. No, that's absurd; it can't be true... But, this is math. I recalculated again - indeed, I was correct, fifty point seventy-three percent. I never would have thought! But numbers don't lie. I erased the previous answer and penned in the new one. Then, upon rechecking the initial problems, I noticed another one in which the simple solution was incorrect. Ah, it's a good thing I enjoyed probability theory! The second problem was the same. I had been interested in devising a system to beat roulette in my youth, so I had delved into this subject. Of course, I didn't invent anything, but the knowledge stuck!

I handed in my papers in the fourth ten, as the thirty-eighth, slightly later than I had originally intended, but it worked out even better. Before I could leave, an older student stopped me:

"Collect your belongings. And your textbook."

"That's not my textbook," I protested. "Could you give it to Lady Maya?"

"Stop!" the older student responded menacingly, glancing at my ID. "Izao Vaillant, don't think about involving me in your games! Did you write something in the pages? A love letter, perhaps? Don't try to trick me. Take your textbook!"

"But..."

"Actually, it is my textbook," a voice intervened from behind.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Maya, who had handed in her papers after me, now stood at my shoulder.

"Really?" The older student blushed to the roots of his hair. "Of course, Lady Maya, here, please take it. I..."

"Thanks, just leave it on the table. I'll collect it later." Without bothering to listen to his stuttering, she turned to me. "Thank you, Izao. It started raining yesterday, and the textbook could have gotten wet." After nodding at me, she promptly left the lecture hall.

Wait, why would someone like her even remember the name of someone like Izao? I took a step towards the door.

Screech!

Well, she has dashed off...

When I exited the training complex, Nicholas was already waiting for me.

"Why did you take so long?" He immediately pounced on me. "I saw you wasting nearly twenty minutes! I'm hungry."

"When did you manage to finish?"

"I was the fifth," he shrugged.

Ah, yes, I was recalculating the birthday problem, so I hadn't noticed.

"Boys!" Sophie swooped down on us like a typhoon. "Are you done? Impressive! When I took this test, I used all the time available! I knew immediately you were the smartest of my bunch!!!"

Wow, that "my" is really endearing!

"We want to eat!" Nicholas interrupted her.

"Oh, can we wait for the others?"

"An hour and a half?" The space enthusiast was indignant at the question.

"Eh? Well..." Sophie was taken aback by the pressure. "Would you like me to suggest a good cafe?"

"What would you like?" Nick asks me. "It's my treat."

"Anything but sushi," I respond.

"Excellent. We would like something from the Neapolitan cuisine."

"It's expensive..." Our escort muses.

"It doesn't matter," Nicholas dismisses her concern.

Ultimately, we spent three hours at a fantastic restaurant on the island's southern coast, engaged in conversation about everything and nothing. Sitting next to him, I didn't feel any difference in our ages. His judgments weren't as sage or considered as a forty-year-old's might be - he simply saw the world from a unique perspective, leading him to interesting conclusions and observations.

The bill we got could be mistaken for a month's rent! Yet, my new companion paid without a flinch.

Later, Sophie found us with the rest of the group, and everything resumed its regular whirl: chatter, sightseeing, and finally, pre-dinner lectures.

"Tomorrow is your last day!" Sophie chirped, as she led us back to the residential buildings. "Meet at ten sharp! We'll have the rector's speech, followed by a festive balloon launch. Afterwards, we'll watch our team's game at the stadium. When that ends, all activities are concluded, and buses will pick you up at six in the evening."

"What about the test results?" One of the four nerds questioned.

"You won't see them. They're not disclosed. And don't ask why! I don't know! Anyways! I have to go! See you tomorrow!"

After bidding everyone farewell, I embarked on my routine evening walk. Of course, it would have been better to continue conversations with Nicholas, but duty calls. So, I walked until ten, after which I ascended to my room and, setting the alarm, drifted off to sleep.

I dreamt of Maya. We were alone in a massive lecture hall. She was seated on a table, her legs crossed, her hands slowly unbuttoning her vest.

"Maestro, help me."

I was more than happy to help her remove the upper piece of clothing.

With a short haircut, in a tight, slightly damp, snow-white shirt... She looked enchanting. Those curves, proportions, sculpted legs, and a full D cup - my head was spinning.

"No, step back, Izao, I am a lady... Wait, Maestro, I've changed my mind - take my hand... Your touch is pleasant."

Just then, the fire extinguishing system activated, causing the already form-fitting shirt to no longer conceal anything. It now emphasized her best features.

"I'm cold..." She shivered.

My hands were instinctively reaching out to embrace her, to warm her, when a clamor in the corridor jolted me from the dream!

"Why are you all scurrying about like hippos?" Leaping from bed, I swing the door open.

It's not even eight yet, and it appears that everyone living on this floor is in the corridor - they're causing a commotion, arguing about something, and someone is even dressing on the run.

"What's happening?" I grab the closest person by the sleeve.

"A duel! An official one! Spectators are allowed!" blurted out an unfamiliar guy with a badge around his neck.

Having answered, he immediately wriggled out of my grasp and sprinted towards the exit.

A duel? At the University? Well, in theory, everything's possible, but... Usually, or rather in most cases, duels, if they do occur, are kept confidential. So, what do I know about duels? Essentially, it's a privilege of the nobility. Duels of honor don't happen among ordinary folks. Are you a commoner? If so, all issues must be resolved through the state machinery. Thus, those who have the right to duel are a small group - the shapeshifters and their vassal families. Precisely speaking, an ordinary person could be called to a duel, but this happens extraordinarily rarely - for two reasons. First, a clansman wouldn't sully his hands, as it would disgrace his honor and his family's. Second, the layman can decline the duel without any official consequences.

Duels between nobles are also quite scarce: there are few clansmen, and when they unleash their Beast, they often genuinely "go wild." Because of this, the percentage of duels ending fatally is excessively high. The few honor fights that do occur among shapeshifters mostly happen behind closed doors.

Everything changes when it comes to vassal families. By accepting a clan's patronage, people impose many obligations upon themselves. Also, it's generally deemed unseemly for a clansman to challenge even a vassal of another family to a duel. However, duels between vassals of different clans are not so uncommon. In Wilflaes alone, at least three dozen official duels of vassals occur each year, with spectators admitted and bets taken.

Izao was indifferent and uninterested, so my knowledge on the subject was rather superficial. On one hand, I felt a little anxious; on the other hand, I was somewhat curious. Should I go and watch? Why not? Obviously, I can't continue watching the dream - it's not a film.

I quickly got dressed. It wouldn't hurt to see this event, and for some reason, my curiosity heightened with each passing second. Shutting the door behind me, I made my way to the first floor.

Few people remained in the lobby; most just raced through, heading for the exit. The superintendent was standing near the entrance to his office, surrounded by three students from the second to the fourth year. Spotting me, he beckoned.

"Meet the team," Mr. Redtliff announced when I approached. "Izao, a freshman who will live in our building. Don't let his appearance fool you - the guy has balls of steel. Izao, this is Colin, Vargo, James. You can reach out to them if I'm not around and you need help." Then he suddenly called out, "Mrs. Lando!" He shouted at a woman around fifty in a somber mouse-colored suit. "Please maintain order in the dorm in my absence."

"Of course, Mr. Redtliff," the lady replied with a nod of dignified agreement.

"So," the superintendent began, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, "is everyone headed to the stadium to watch the show? Just as I thought. I can offer you better seats than those in the stands. If you're interested, follow me."

Naturally, I agreed. It would be foolish to decline, and moreover, I decided to indulge the superintendent's recruitment effort. Let him believe that I am oblivious to his manipulation. If needed, I'll even share information with him. The trick of recruitment is a double-edged sword, and it serves me well too. Of course, only up to a certain limit that I have no intention of crossing.

Throughout the journey, he remained silent or responded in monosyllables. The trio of students walking alongside us clearly functioned as the superintendent's eyes and ears. Moreover, his conduct with them was impeccable; he didn't place himself on a higher pedestal or give orders like "fetch this," "hand me that," or "move this." He was remarkably respectful with them, which undoubtedly flattered the young men. Moreover, these students didn't strike me as mere informants; they likely believed that by assisting Redtliff, they were performing a noble and valuable service.

At first glance, I would even like all three if I were unaware of their voluntary service to the superintendent. Open, honest faces, confident gazes, upright postures, and unforced gaits. All these traits, though individually minor, collectively say a lot about a person when combined.

Mr. Redtliff knows his job inside out. And no, I'm not referring to his superintendent duties. It seems more beneficial to remain on his side until his plans or the orders he's given conflict with my principles or safety.

We strolled along paths that were now familiar to me, avoiding large crowds. The superintendent was engaged in lively discussions about various trivialities with the students, skillfully avoiding touching the topic of the duel. Speaking of which, how did people even find out about the fight? There were no mailers or announcements, just rumors that seemed to spread faster around the campus than amongst gossipy grannies who love gathering on benches in residential areas.

The local stadium bears no resemblance to city arenas. Nestled in a vast hollow between hills and enveloped by foliage, the structure has an unusual design. From certain viewpoints, the stadium resembles an open book, with its grandstands forming the pages. When I first saw it "in person" during a guided tour led by Sophie, I was awestruck for a long time.

"Alright!" the superintendent halted us all. "We won't use the main entrance. There's no need to jostle with the crowd. Judging by the number of people, more than half of the island's current inhabitants are intrigued by the event."

No one inquired about the reason for the fight, not a single question about the participants, and I too remained silent on the matter. Perhaps everyone already knew, and I was the only one out of the loop? Mr. Redtliff led us through a service entrance. As I walked beside the superintendent, it seemed he knew every staff member of the university by name - from the cleaners to the professors. He greeted each person we came across and even introduced me to several teachers we met along the way.

We navigated through several narrow but well-lit corridors and emerged onto a small platform. This vantage point, typically used by lighting technicians, offered a fantastic view of the playing field. About fifteen other people, all dressed in service personnel uniforms, were also present. After shaking hands with each of them, the superintendent introduced only me and ushered our group towards the railing. The other three students seemed to already be acquainted with everyone there.

Intriguing.

"So, what's the wager?" Mr. Redtliff asked. "I suggest betting on the duration of the match, say, ten francs for sport."

I understood; there was no question about who would win - it seemed the outcome was a foregone conclusion. The real question was about how long the fight would last.

"Until the referee signals the end?" Vargo clarified.

"Yes," the superintendent confirmed with a nod.

"Ten seconds," Colin quickly chimed in.

"Seven," Vargo countered.

"Fifteen," James offered with a hint of uncertainty.

"Three seconds," Mr. Redtliff proposed with a grin.

All eyes turned to me. What was I supposed to say? I didn't even know who was fighting whom! What weapons, what rules? And why was the advantage of one fighter so significant?

"Question," I interjected, feeling everyone's gaze on me. "Who's fighting?"

Laughter erupted across the platform, even the workers who overheard my question chuckled heartily.

"Well…" Mr. Redtliff managed after his laughter subsided, wiping the corners of his eyes where tears had appeared. "You understand, yes?" He addressed the others. "You see, this guy is simply marvelous!"

So, where had all that stiffness gone, all those antics of a pretentious martinet? I tensed up slightly.

"On one side is a certain Pratt Dory, a vassal of the Cestor clan," he informed. If I recalled correctly, the Cestors were a clan of financiers, holding two governmental posts; their animal form was that of beavers. That was all I knew about them.

"A third-year student from the diplomatic faculty," Vargo chimed in.

"Thank you, Vargo. As always, you're well-informed," the superintendent acknowledged with a nod. "On the challenging side is milady Maya Grim, the Break Knight."

Ah, what a turn of events! Was her luck as bad as mine? Or was her sword a "Purity" two-point-zero?

"Pratt was assigned as milady's attendant during her introduction to the university," Vargo quickly supplemented.

Choosing to abstain from betting would be a short-sighted move. So I decided to place a bet on the most improbable outcome, but without drawing too much attention to myself.

"Forty-five seconds," I said. I was sure I'd lose, but I didn't mind parting with ten francs.

"Ahem..." The superintendent cleared his throat. "Bets are placed."

The stadium seemed almost empty. However, this perception was deceptive: there were approximately a thousand, if not more, spectators present. Considering it was summer vacation, this amounted to about a third or potentially half of the total population on the island. Moreover, the male part was, most likely, almost fully present. Of girls, yes, there were few, almost none.

Yet, students were steadily filing in sizeable groups.

This was a peculiar situation. Or was it? In Novilter, all the raigs are considered equivalent to knights in status. However, they are merely "knights", not part of the noble class. They enjoy some privileges, but not all, and have only one duty: to protect against Breakthroughs. But there is an exception to this rule. Any raig can reveal themselves to the House on the Hill and receive full spurs in a closed ceremony, thus becoming a full-fledged knight in every sense. All three open raigs, Maya, Kraas, and Thomas, are definitely spurred. So it appears that by challenging her opponent, Maya hasn't overstepped any legal boundaries. I don't know her very well, but judging by her concern for Yuki... I don't think she would initiate a duel without a valid reason.

Murmurs and speculative whispers fill the air as people discuss and make assumptions. I have my own thoughts, but choose to remain silent on the matter.

"Mr. Redtliff," James addressed the superintendent, "Why is your bet three seconds?"

"I added two seconds because it takes time for the referee to lower the flag," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Unlike many others present, his understanding of raigs is far more comprehensive. Essentially, I concurred with him: if Maya uses the Break in the duel - and judging by the bets, no one doubts she will - the fight will be over in moments. Hence, my bet on a longer duration subtly displayed my ignorance without the need for an outright lie.

At five minutes to nine, some commotion stirred on the field, and people began to fuss. A portable podium was brought in and a microphone set up. Without any explicit command or order, the buzzing chatter within the stadium ceased and slowly faded.

"Gentlemen, ladies, students, respected teachers, and guests of the university," a short, thin man in a double-breasted suit with a receding hairline stepped up to the podium. "I am Stefan Karkin, a member of the board of trustees and head of the duel committee at Novilter State University. We've received a request from milady Maya Grim. After reviewing it, our committee issued an unequivocal verdict: milady Grim's reason for challenging a duel is more than justified. Given that the respondent is a vassal of the esteemed Cestor clan, we forwarded a request to the clan's residence. The response was swift, and a representative from this respected family has arrived at the university and will now announce the clan's decision."

The steward passed the microphone to a stout, well-built man dressed in shades of mahogany.

"Upon reviewing the application," boomed the clansman's voice, resonating with a power and authority akin to a professional opera singer, "we, the Cestor clan, officially confirm the right of milady Maya Grim, a full knight of Novilter, to seek satisfaction. The duel shall continue until one party is entirely satisfied."

With these words, the nobleman descended from the podium, leaving a deafening silence in his wake. However, this silence was short-lived. The entire stadium erupted in a cacophony of shouts as people began to comprehend the implications.

"Until one party is entirely satisfied" implied that the victor could brutalize the loser to a chilling extent... One could flay the loser's skin, gouge out their eyes, end their life in any manner, and the "duel" wouldn't be concluded until they themselves admitted satisfaction. What on earth had this third-year student done for his patron clan to sanction such a brutal duel format?!

"I'd run, apologize, refuse to fight," Vargo murmured, a lump forming in his throat.

"Ah!" The superintendent shot him a piercing look. "Believe me, this young lady wouldn't inflict even a fraction of what the patron clan would do to someone who fled a sanctioned duel," Mr. Redtliff added, before turning his gaze back to the field.

The words left the students, Vargo included, ashen-faced. Indeed, this outwardly calm and civilized world was steeped in primitive rules. I couldn't afford to forget this even for a moment.

Formalities were observed, rules recited, and participants introduced to the spectators. Maya was dressed as she had been for the test, save for a differently colored vest. She even retained her low-heeled shoes, seeing no need to replace them. Her opponent was more casually attired in military boots, linen trousers for unrestricted movement, and a wide-sleeved shirt.

"According to the rules, the challenger has selected a weapon," the manager announced into the microphone, "These are faceted stilettos from our museum," he displayed the blades.

In essence, these stilettos were long, elbow-length, faceted nails with a handle and guard, lacking blades but equipped with sharply pointed tips.

"In addition to the selected weapon, each participant can use all other available abilities: martial arts, sensum abilities, Beast summoning, the... Break," the manager paused slightly before the final word.

Pratt Dory stood relaxed and smiling. On the surface, he seemed affable: an attractive, perhaps even pretty face, excellent physique, as if he spent hours every day in a pool. His demeanor was too composed for such a duel format. If he was acquainted with Maya, then over a few days, he had the chance to observe her and presumably made some deductions. He seemed utterly unafraid, as if confident the duel would conclude without grave consequences for him. Oddly, Maya had struck me as a fiery, even brash and utterly tactless individual during our meetings. It made sense, given she was raised without a mother and by a naval officer father who was seldom home due to his duties. Besides, I remember her expression when she confronted that rapist - she seemed ready to kill. Either our meetings were poor indicators of her character, or this guy was grossly mistaken in his assumptions. If he believed Maya would just knock him out with the Break and that would be the end of it, I could already pity him. And it seemed that this was exactly what he thought, which explained his lack of concern.

As he handed over the stilettos, the steward took ten steps back, an orange flag materializing in his hand.

"The duel will commence when I raise this flag and will conclude when it's lowered. On my count of three. One. Two. Three!" As the flag soared into the air, the superintendent beside us promptly started the timer.

I was ready even before the count of "two", so the prolonged cry of "Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!" hardly made me flinch.

To everyone else, Maya vanished at the utterance of "One."

An invisible shadow bolted from her position. The "Slide" was easily identifiable, too quick and sharp for a simple movement. Less than a second elapsed before Pratt froze mid-motion, trembling violently. Paralysis! Had she evolved the "Shock Sword"? It seemed so. The guy was conscious but immobilized, unable to even drop his blade or utter a word. The phantom shadow leisurely circled the paralyzed figure twice.

Beside me, Mr. Redtliff clicked his tongue in annoyance; three seconds had passed, and the referee's flag was still aloft.

Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!

Maya reappeared, surveyed her surroundings, and addressed the steward.

"The adversary is still standing, and his weapon remains in his hands. Would it tarnish the university's honor if I continue?"

"Proceed, milady," the referee replied calmly and devoid of any emotion.

An irritated exhale came from Vargo; seven seconds had elapsed.

Deliberately taking her time, Maya turned towards Pratt and gifted him a smile.

Ten seconds.

Had I been in the guy's place, that smile would have turned me white. She circled him, approached from behind, and whispered something in his ear. These words, inaudible to the audience, caused him to tremble even more.

Fifteen seconds.

James didn't have it figured out either.

Maya traced her left palm along the opponent's back, all the while maintaining her smile. Deliberately, she took two laps around the defenseless opponent.

Twenty-five seconds.

Positioning herself in front of the paralyzed Pratt, Maya pulled something from her belt. A rag of some sort was clenched in her fist. Her smile faded. Without releasing the stiletto from her grip, she pried open Pratt's mouth and forcefully shoved the rag into it.

Thirty seconds.

Following that, she lightly touched the student's collarbone with her right hand. Her finger gradually moved downward while her lips seemed to count silently.

Thirty-five seconds.

Her finger halted roughly at the midpoint of the guy's chest. Nodding to herself, Maya adjusted her grip on the stiletto, looked directly into Pratt's eyes, and delivered a sharp, forceful, and precise blow. The awl-sharp tip easily penetrated Pratt's chest. The blow was so powerful that the stiletto's progression was halted only by the guard after it had pierced through Pratt's body!!!

Forty seconds.

An absolute silence blankets the stadium.

Maya releases the hilt, leaving poor Pratt standing still, skewered, his paralysis still intact.

Maya then turns to the referee.

"Mr. Steward, I am satisfied," she announces.

The flag lingers in the air for a couple of seconds before it descends.

"The duel is over!" proclaims a member of the university's board of trustees. "The victor is milady Maya Grim, Knight of Novilter!"