ShadowBound: The Need For Power-Chapter 611: Time For Our Duel

As Percy stood before the gathered first- and second-years, a low wave of murmurs immediately spread through the hall, voices overlapping as students speculated in hushed disbelief over which unfortunate soul would be chosen to spar against the rank-one third year. The air felt tense, thick with unease, as though the hall itself had braced for impact.

"This can’t be real," a second-year muttered under his breath, barely audible over the noise. "Who in their right mind would ever agree to fight Percy Granger?"

"That’s exactly my point," another replied quietly, shaking his head. "Though it’s not like whoever it is gets a say in the matter."

A first-year leaned closer to her friends, eyes darting nervously toward Percy. "I bet it’ll be the highest-performing second year," she whispered. "If anyone stands a chance, it would have to be her." After a moment, she added more uncertainly, "Right?"

"Or it could be his sister," someone else said, voice tinged with morbid curiosity. "And if that’s the case... this spar would be something else entirely. Everyone knows those two don’t get along."

At that suggestion, numerous gazes subtly shifted across the hall. Some landed on the top-ranked second year, a girl with dark green hair and greenish-blue eyes that carried an almost warm brilliance, her posture confident and her expression bright despite the circumstances. She had once been the undisputed rank one among the second years before the war, her reputation still firmly intact.

Other glances drifted toward Sheila, who stood among her peers with a calm exterior that masked a faint tremor only trained eyes could detect. Though she tried to keep her focus fixed on her brother, her gaze faltered again and again before she forced herself to straighten, maintaining her stance with quiet defiance.

’Come on, Sheila... you know he isn’t here for you,’ she told herself, her thoughts sharp with frustration. ’If you really want to face him one day, you need to let this feeling go.’ Even as she repeated it, she knew how hollow the words felt, how much easier it was to think them than to truly believe them.

As the murmurs continued, speculation bouncing back and forth between Sheila and the second-year prodigy, Liam felt a subtle shift settle in his chest. He realized, with a quiet sense of irritation, that his earlier plan—to end his spar swiftly and efficiently—had effectively collapsed the moment Percy had appeared.

With Percy clearly having arranged for this day to host their long-awaited duel, Liam knew there would be no standing back, no leisurely observation of others’ matches. Worse still was the condition tied to their agreement: five critical hits. Only then would he be declared the winner. The Arrays, his earlier safeguard, would be useless in this case.

’Then again,’ Liam thought, his expression unreadable as his eyes remained fixed on Percy, ’the original plan still stands. If things unfold properly... Sheila might finally get what she needs.’

"Quiet."

Kaelen’s voice cut cleanly through the rising noise, calm yet carrying an undeniable authority that pressed down on the room. The hall fell silent almost instantly, every student snapping their attention back to him.

"Time has already been wasted enough," Kaelen said evenly, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "Allowing you all to continue your meaningless chatter would only waste more."

No one spoke. The students stood still, anticipation tightening their expressions as they waited for him to continue, many bracing themselves for the announcement they believed inevitable—Sheila, or the top-ranked second year.

As if sensing their collective anticipation, Kaelen spoke once more, his tone unchanged. "The student selected to spar against Percy Granger," he said calmly, "is the first-year... Liam Hunter."

As those words left Sir Kaelen’s mouth, the vast hall plunged into a stunned, almost suffocating silence. The expectations that Percy’s opponent would be either his own sister, Sheila, or the top-ranked second year shattered instantly, breaking apart like fragile glass. One by one, heads turned toward Liam, who stood among his peers with an air of detached calm, as though the weight of the moment meant nothing to him at all, his gaze remaining fixed forward without the slightest hint of reaction.

"This has to be a joke," a student muttered under his breath, disbelief thick in his tone. "Him? They chose him? I swear, the academy must actually want him dead." He scoffed, shaking his head in open disdain.

"Well, honestly, I can’t say I’m against it," another voice chimed in with a cruel edge. "It’d be nice to see Percy beat him into the ground. I really can’t stand this kid—especially that constant, lifeless stare of his."

More murmurs followed, spreading like a disease through the hall. Insults and bitter remarks piled onto one another, most of them aimed squarely at Liam, who clearly couldn’t have cared less. The words washed over him without leaving a mark, his expression unchanged, his posture relaxed.

"Hunter," Kaelen’s voice cut through the noise once again, sharp and commanding. "Step forward."

Without hesitation, Liam moved. He calmly walked to the front of the gathered students and came to a stop beside Percy, leaving only a few measured paces between them. The murmurs continued, softer now, not loud enough to earn Kaelen’s ire, yet still heavy with hostility.

"You may both proceed to the platform," Kaelen said evenly.

Liam and Percy turned and walked toward the platform that had earlier materialized at the center of the hall. Liam veered left while Percy took the right, their movements unhurried and deliberate. Reaching the structure, both climbed the stairs on their respective sides, ascending toward the summit without a word.

At the top, they approached one another until only a short distance remained between them, their gazes locking.

Detached crimson eyes met detached blue eyes.

"The conditions for this sparring match differ from those of the trial," Kaelen announced, his gaze shifting between the two combatants. "Liam Hunter is permitted full use of his Myst and may fight without restraint. Percy Granger, however, will be limited to fifty percent of his power."

"As if that’s going to save the punk," a second year muttered from the crowd, prompting quiet chuckles from his companions.

"To determine the winner," Kaelen continued, unbothered, "Hunter may claim victory through Granger’s forfeit, by landing five critical hits, by forcing Granger beyond the outer boundary of the platform, or by defeating him outright. The same conditions apply to Granger, excluding victory through critical hits."

As the terms were laid out, the students’ attention remained locked onto the two figures standing atop the platform, anticipation building as nearly everyone waited for the match to begin.

"And one more thing," Kaelen added after a brief pause. "The Arrays will not be effective in this match. You may begin once the bell rings."

The hall grew even quieter as those words settled in. All eyes focused forward, waiting for the signal. Yet before the bell could sound, the massive doors of the grand hall opened, and a group of students entered with measured, disciplined steps.

The third years.

They advanced without unnecessary noise, moving toward the others while keeping their attention fixed on the platform. As they took their places and looked upon the two combatants above, the remaining students grew even quieter, a heavy silence taking hold.

"It’s good to have you here, third years," Kaelen said calmly. "I assume you’ve come to witness the match."

"Of course, Sir Kaelen," a third-year boy replied with composed confidence. "How could we miss a match involving our top rank? That would be quite disrespectful, wouldn’t it?"

Kaelen regarded him for a brief moment before looking away. "Very well. Suit yourselves."

"Thank you, Sir," the boy said respectfully.

Back at the summit, Liam briefly glanced toward the assembled students before returning his attention to Percy.

"You don’t strike me as someone who craves an audience," Liam said calmly. "To think there’d be this many eyes watching us. Honestly, it’s a bit surprising."

"I don’t," Percy replied evenly. "That wasn’t the plan. But given the circumstances, this is simply how it turned out."

Liam studied him for a moment before nodding slightly. "I see. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What needs to be done will be done." As he spoke, he shifted into a fighting stance, hands raised as twin daggers formed in his grip, emerging through writhing tendrils of shadow.

"Indeed," Percy muttered, mirroring the motion as he assumed his own stance. Cold air began to coil around his arms, frost creeping outward as his power stirred.

They stood there, facing one another in silence, waiting.

All around them, students and authoritative figures alike watched with bated breath, anticipation thick in the air.

Then, cutting through the stillness, the bell rang twice.

In the very next instant, the hall shifted.