Ronan saw Brutas stagger after the soul attack.

Since his Soul Sense ability was activated, he could clearly see the outline of Brutas’s soul. It wrapped around his body like a faint second skin. Before the attack, it had looked strong, vibrant, tightly formed. Now it wavered. Thin and unsteady.

Ronan pushed himself up from the ground.

His body hurt.

His bruises hurt.

His cuts hurt.

His forearm was damaged from Brutas’s earlier attack, but most of his bones were still intact.

His ribs were not broken.

His legs still worked.

His body was moving almost normally.

Steel Bone Armament was stronger than he expected.

It did not stop pain. It did not stop his flesh from tearing. But it kept the structure of his body from collapsing, and that was more than enough.

The artifact Brutas used had been annoying and unexpected.

A Rank 3 artifact in a duel like this was excessive, but not unbeatable. Brutas got cocky after using it.

He stood over Ronan and gave him time instead of finishing the duel immediately.

Ronan was not sure it would have mattered even if Brutas had tried to end it faster.

Brutas staggered again, clutching his head.

His mace dipped toward the ground.

His breathing was uneven.

He looked confused and angry, but also frightened because he did not understand what happened.

"What... what did you do to me?"

Ronan did not answer.

Instead, he moved.

Ronan burst forward before Brutas could recover.

Brutas tried to raise his mace, but his reaction was delayed. The soul attack had disrupted something deeper than than just muscle and bone. His body was moving and fine, but his soul was damaged, making him unsteady.

Ronan slipped inside the mace’s range and stabbed Brutas in the side.

Brutas screamed.

Ronan pulled the blade free and stayed close.

He did not let Brutas create distance.

He kept moving around the wounded side, forcing Brutas to turn with his injured back.

Ronan’s smile deepened.

This was it.

This was fun.

Actually fun.

This was the feeling he had been looking forward to when he came to this world.

Ronan grinned wider and kicked toward Brutas’s solar plexus.

Brutas barely dodged.

Ronan twisted his body mid-motion and used the failed kick to shift his weight. He drove a punch into Brutas’s gut.

Brutas doubled over.

Ronan saw the opening immediately.

He gripped the knife with both hands and swung toward Brutas’s neck.

Not meant to disable.

No, he was breaking all the rules with this one.

He was aiming to kill

The blade was about to reach Brutas’s throat.

But before it could pierce skin, a hand caught Ronan’s wrist.

Selene had moved between them.

Her grip was firm enough that Ronan could not complete the strike.

"That is enough."

Ronan paused.

Then he looked at her and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry. Got caught up in the moment."

Selene did not look amused, nor did it look like she believed it.

Brutas fell back slightly, breathing hard.

He did not look at Ronan. His eyes stayed fixed on the ground. His hands were shaking. He had been a breath away from death, and he knew it.

Ronan turned toward him with a kind smile.

He offered his hand.

"Good duel."

Brutas did not take it.

The arena remained silent.

With a frustrated sigh, Selene grabbed Ronan’s wrist and raised his hand.

"Winner: Ronan Ashbourne."

No one cheered.

---

Ronan left the arena.

His clothes were torn. Blood stained his sleeves. One arm hung a little stiffly from the fractured forearm, though Steel Bone Armament had kept the bone from shattering completely.

His expression was light. Almost cheerful.

Elara and Kazuma waited near the exit from the duel grounds.

Elara looked tense. Not relieved. Not happy. Tense.

Kazuma looked the same as always.

Ronan approached them first and smiled.

"I won. You can stop looking at me like I’m about to collapse."

Kazuma tilted his head slightly.

"Congratulations on the victory."

His tone was calm, but his eyes briefly moved over Ronan’s injuries—the damaged forearm, the blood on his clothes, the way Ronan stood just a little unevenly.

"Thanks," Ronan said.

Elara did not congratulate him right away.

She kept staring at him.

Ronan noticed and raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Elara’s expression tightened.

"What was the ending about?"

Ronan tilted his head.

"What do you mean?"

Elara’s jaw clenched.

"You know exactly what I mean. At the end. When you swung the knife at Brutas’s throat." She paused. "What were you trying to do?"

Ronan shrugged.

"Kill him."

Elara froze.

Then she snapped.

"Are you insane? Killing someone isn’t—it’s not something small. This was an Academy duel, not a battlefield. Brutas was defeated. Selene was about to call it. You didn’t need to go that far."

Ronan rolled his eyes slightly, as if she were overreacting.

"I knew Selene would interfere."

Elara did not immediately calm down.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Ronan sighed.

"Selene was already close enough to step in. She’d been watching the flow of the duel from the beginning. The moment Brutas lost the ability to defend properly, she was ready to intervene." He paused. "My strike wasn’t about actually killing Brutas. It was about making it look like I would."

Elara stared at him.

That calmed her a little.

But only a little.

"Why would you want it to look like a killing blow?"

Before Ronan could answer, Kazuma spoke.

"You were directly challenging the Pollundini family."

Elara looked at him.

Kazuma continued.

"You humiliated Brutas publicly. Defeated him despite the artifact. Refused the public handshake—or rather, made Brutas refuse it. Then ended the duel by making Brutas afraid for his life." He paused. "It wasn’t just a victory. It was a message."

Ronan smiled at Kazuma.

"I’m surprised you noticed."

Kazuma answered without expression.

"It was obvious once Ravencrest was mentioned."

Elara looked between them, lost.

"It was really obvious?"

Kazuma said yes.

"The duel was too sudden. Brutas’s challenge was too public. His attitude was too personal for someone acting only on personal pride. And his reaction to Ravencrest confirmed there was someone behind him."

Ronan added casually, "Brutas was useful because he reacted badly."

Elara frowned.

"It seemed normal to me."

Ronan said flatly, "That’s because you’re too honest."

Elara did not know whether that was a compliment or an insult.

Kazuma said, "Probably both."

Ronan smiled again.

Elara looked at him for a moment.

She was still disturbed, but now she understood the logic.

That did not make her like it.

"Using fear like that is dangerous."

Ronan met her eyes.

"Fear is only dangerous if people don’t know where to direct it."

Elara went quiet.

Kazuma did not comment.

Ronan brushed past them, heading back toward the Academy proper.

Elara exhaled slowly, then followed.

---

Irene left Grace and the others almost immediately after the duel ended.

She did not stay for discussion. She did not wait to hear the crowd’s reaction. She did not approach Ronan.

She walked away with controlled steps.

But her thoughts were moving too fast.

Ronan won.

Not barely.

Not by luck.

He had used Steel Bone Armament to its fullest.

Steel Bone Armament was not a normal technique. It was not something a noble heir casually learned because it sounded useful.

It was brutal. Self-destructive.

The kind of skill that required repeated fractures, pain tolerance, and a willingness to damage the body for long-term reinforcement.

Irene had assumed Ronan bought it to sell it. Trade it. Use it as leverage against the family in some way, even if she didn’t now how.

She had not thought he would actually cultivate it himself.

The idea was almost absurd.

If Irene tried to cultivate Steel Bone Armament, she knew she would fail.

Not because she lacked discipline.

But because the pain would be too much.

Any normal person would stop.

Any sane person would stop.

Ronan had not stopped.

She remembered him as a child. A genius. Someone she once looked up to. Someone who had seemed impossibly mature even when they were nearly the same age.

But this was different.

This was not the Ronan from her memories.

What kind of person willingly breaks himself over and over just to gain power?

It was absolutely absurd.

Irene reached the carriage area outside the Academy grounds.

A carriage was waiting. The driver recognized her and opened the door without question.

Irene stepped inside and sat down.

Her hands folded neatly in her lap.

Her expression remained composed.

But her fingers were tense.

"Go to the Ashbourne family estate."

As the carriage began moving, Irene looked out the window.

Ronan had changed too much in too little time.

His rank increased. His combat instincts sharpened. His personality shifted. He cultivated Steel Bone Armament seriously. He provoked noble families without hesitation. He nearly made killed Brutas in front of half the school.

There was no logical explanation for that.

Which meant something was happening beneath the surface.

Something shady.

Something dangerous.

Her father needed to know.

Irene looked down at her hands.

If Ronan was walking down the wrong path, then she would be the one to stop him.

No.

To save him.

Even if he hated her for it afterward.