49 - A Noble vs. a Peasant! - 2

A Noble vs. a Peasant! - 2

The dust of the arena rose in tiny clouds with every move of the fighters. Nolan's advantage, thanks to his superior gear, was clear. Each strike he delivered held an almost supernatural force and speed, and Jon, despite his undeniable skill, was clearly outmatched.

The crowd watched with bated breath, every move, every hit, every dodge. The tension was thick in the air. Many students were there to see the first-year prodigy, Jon, take on the might and arrogance of a second-year student.

After a particularly fierce exchange, Jon managed to push Nolan back with a surprising move. He then took a few steps back, raising his hand in a clear gesture of surrender. "I concede," he said, his voice heavy with fatigue and resignation.

However, Nolan, with a wild gleam in his eyes, didn't accept the surrender. Ignoring Jon's gesture, he lunged forward with astonishing speed. Before Jon could react, Nolan landed a precise blow aimed at Jon's heart. The impact was so strong it sent Jon flying several meters back, and a bright mana shield activated around him, signaling he had reached his limit.

A murmur of disapproval swept through the crowd. Students exchanged looks of outrage and disgust. After all, Jon had conceded, and Nolan's attack was clearly unnecessary and dishonorable.

Elara, who had been watching the fight with growing concern, couldn't contain her anger. She rose from her seat and, with a voice dripping with scorn, shouted, "Coward! Nearly bested by a first-year and yet you dare attack him after he conceded?!"

Nolan, with a smug grin, turned to Elara. "He should've thought twice before challenging me," he retorted, clearly pleased with his victory.

The mana shield enveloped Jon like a shimmering aurora, shielding him from the environment. Magical energy pulsed around him, forming a translucent barrier that looked like clear water. With every pulse, a thousand points were deducted from Jon, and in return, the shield began to heal his wounds and restore his stamina. Tiny sparks of light moved over his skin, sealing cuts and bruises, as his breathing became steadier and deeper.

Elara, her heart heavy, rushed to the arena, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence that had settled. She knelt beside Jon, gently cradling him. Her eyes, usually so bright and determined, were clouded with worry. Even though she knew this outcome was likely from the start, she still held a glimmer of hope because of all that this half-elf had shown her in their recent days at the academy.

Nolan, trying to seize the moment, approached with a smug smile. "He's tougher than he looks," he began, attempting to strike up a conversation with Elara. However, she completely ignored him, her focus solely on Jon. Nolan scowled, clearly annoyed at being disregarded, and muttered something inaudible to Roderic, who stood beside him. The two then left the arena, with Nolan casting one last disdainful glance back.

Elara, her gaze still fixed on Jon, murmured with a mix of frustration and concern, "Tsk! Fool, if you knew you'd lose, why accept the duel?"

Jon, his voice weak yet steady, replied with a weary smile, "How would I know the outcome without trying?" Their eyes met, and for a moment, all the weight and tension of the duel seemed to vanish.

…

Jon and Elara made their way through the academy's hallways, their footsteps softly echoing off the stone walls. The weariness from over ten back-to-back duels was evident in their faces and stances, each movement seeming to bear the weight of their exhaustion. Their tired eyes and disheveled clothing cried out for a moment of rest and a refreshing shower.

With a sigh, Elara remarked, "I think I'll take a shower before lunch."

"Hmm, that sounds like an excellent idea," Jon replied, his voice sounding somewhat distant. Since the duel, a thought had been brewing in his mind. 'My sword might be powerful, but I clearly need better gear.' The recent loss to Nolan had been a wake-up call. Jon had always taken pride in the strength of his sword, but now he realized he might have been overvaluing it. With the right resources, even an average fighter could become a formidable threat, all thanks to magical equipment and artifacts.

After a moment's thought, Jon added, "I think I'll swing by the academy's trading wing first."

Elara, with a sly smile that suggested she had already anticipated Jon's decision, commented, "Alright, but I don't think you have enough points for any major purchases."

Jon looked at her briefly, their eyes meeting. "Doesn't hurt to look," he responded with a slight shrug.

Unexpectedly, Elara sealed Jon's lips with a swift, agile kiss. As she pulled away, she tossed over her shoulder, "I'll wait for you in the dining hall, then."

"Ok," Jon replied, slightly dazed but with a growing smile on his face. Each day, he was becoming more accustomed to Elara's straightforward and uncomplicated manner. It was refreshing. People like her were simple: you either felt drawn to them or you didn't. And Jon was definitely drawn.

...

Jon now stood before a vast expanse, almost like a grand marketplace. It was a sprawling gallery, with numerous booths or halls, depending on how one wanted to describe them. Each booth showcased crystalline glass displays, presenting an array of magical items and artifacts. Swords with blades that gleamed under the light, enchanted shields, mystical jewels, and much more.

There were also areas dedicated to custom crafting. Magical blacksmiths worked the metal, forging tailor-made weapons while wizards and alchemists brewed potions. In another corner, shelves were filled with books on skills and spells.

Jon felt like a kid in a candy store. His eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity as he wandered the aisles, pausing now and then to examine an item more closely.