Chương 88: “A Pawferful Display”

Rivals, in a sense, were a staple of the genre. Every action story that focused on a hero's progression needed one. A figure who stood opposite the protagonist, it could be a friend, a competitor, or even a villain; a persistent challenge, someone whose existence forced the hero to push harder and reach further than they would have on their own. The original webnovel lacked this. Arthur's growth had been too fortuitous. He powered through opponents with the help of coincidences. There were foes, yes.

Enemies who stood in his way and were eventually overcome. But a true rival? Someone who loomed over the hero constantly, an ever-present threat that forced him to grow stronger, had never existed in the original narrative. Celestia had always hated that part about the story. Generally, there were different kinds of rivals in stories. Some came back over and over just to be defeated. Others promised each other they would meet at the peak. And there were even more types than that.

However, the kind she had to be was the one who was always ahead. The one the hero but could never truly reach. A rival who stayed ahead no matter how fast he climbed. As long as he thought she was in front of him, he would have no choice but to keep moving forward at a faster pace. And in order to be that... Celestia stood on the dueling platform. Arthur was somewhere in the crowd, bruised and dusty, his torn uniform still hanging from his shoulder.

He had received a potion from the healers on standby, and received basic healing to ensure that there were no long-lasting injuries. Even Serena Flamesy was at his side, consoling him. He had been watching the other matches, and his expression was blank. Her wooden spear was in her right hand, held loosely at her side. Her posture was straight, her shoulders relaxed. She looked like she was waiting for tea, not a fight. Across from her, the second-year student had planted his feet.

He was broad-shouldered and thick through the chest, and the shield he carried was nearly as tall as he was, a heavy rectangular slab of reinforced wood banded with iron. In his other hand, a wrapped mace. His stance was low and rooted, the posture of someone who was used to absorbing hits and not moving. A tank. One of the better ones, judging by the way the other second-years along the wall were rooting for him. She had to show Arthur an overpowering win against the very students he had just lost to.

"Begin!" Professor Cassia's voice cut across the grounds. Celestia moved, crossing the distance between them quickly. The tank's eyes widened behind his shield as he braced. His back foot dug into the dirt and his aura flared into parts of his body, minimizing aura usage while maximizing defense. The shield's surface shimmered faintly as what seemed like a reinforcement skill took hold. And then Celestia unleashed her aura. Golden light poured from her body.

A steady, overwhelming radiance that filled the surroundings. For a moment, it almost looked like shimmering dust on the platform suspended in the air. To project aura like this required mastery that most students would not be able to achieve for their entire lives. The second-years, and their expressions said as much. The tank was mesmerized, at the scene before him, and his grip on the shield relaxed for half a second. That was all she needed. Noblesse Oblitère. Her spear slammed down.

The strike connected with the center of the shield and the sound was a low, heavy thud that resonated through the platform and into the ground beneath it. The wooden surface of the shield buckled inward as the iron bands bent. The second-year's feet left the ground. He flew backward off the platform, still holding what remained of his shield, and hit the training ground below. He skidded across the dirt for several meters before slamming into the stone wall.

The wall cracked on impact, and a cloud of dust erupted from the collision. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Everyone watching was frozen in place, still not understanding what quite had happened just now. Professor Cassia looked at the crater in the wall, then at Celestia. The dust began to settle. A figure was visible inside the cloud. The second-year was still standing… barely.

His shield arm hung at his side, the ruined shield dangling from fingers that were no longer gripping it voluntarily. His legs were braced against the rubble behind him. But, his eyes were closed; he was clearly unconscious and was still standing. True to his role as a tank, his body had held even after his mind had not. Celestia stepped off the platform. She walked towards him as her boots crunched over scattered stone from the wall and splinters from his shield.

Nobody in the training grounds was talking as they waited with bated breath. Celestia stopped in front of him.

"You still dare to stand?" Her voice carried across the grounds; every student heard it. She drove her foot into the pit of his stomach. The second-year's knees finally buckled as his body pitched forward, and he collapsed face-first into the dirt. Dust kicked up around him.

"That suits a commoner like you better." She turned her back on him and walked toward the exit. Nobody knew what to say. Among the second-years along the far wall, a few had uncomfortably leaned forward when she kicked their classmate. One of them had half-opened his mouth, and a girl near the back had taken a step before stopping herself. But nobody dared to fully commit. After all, the man she had just put into the dirt ranked among the top of the second-years in combat evaluations.

He was their best defensive fighter. But Celestia had sent him through a stone wall with a single strike? What would happen to the rest of them if they went up there and challenged Celestia? The first-years were no better. Some of them had been grinning when Celestia first stepped onto the platform. After watching Arthur and the others get knocked down match after match, though they wanted a win, most of them wanted to see Celestia being put in her place even more.

If it had been literally anyone else up there who won, they would have cheered, roared in celebration even. But it was Celestia von Reingarde. Rather than cheering, the first-years stood in silent astonishment at what had just happened. During the first semester's final practical exam, she had organized an entire group and divided them into teams. But that had been submission through fear and the promise of reward. That wasn't true leadership, and nobody had admired her for it.

Nobody here had actually seen her properly fight before today. Sure, she was quick with her spear, using a golden aura. But nobody had dared to push her beyond that threat. Now, with a single strike that ended the match before it started, it only cemented how fearsome the prideful noble lady truly was. The Gods had truly blessed Celestia von Reingarde. Beautiful enough that even the students who hated her had a hard time looking away.

She had placed in the top ten overall of the first-year examinations across all subjects. Her combat prowess, as they had just witnessed with their own eyes, spoke for itself. So why did the Gods leave her personality to the shitters? Celestia stepped off the dueling grounds and turned to face the first-year crowd. Her crimson eyes, narrowed with annoyance, swept across them slowly. The look on her face was the same one she wore when something wasted her time. Every student those eyes passed over looked away.

A few near the front of the crowd physically stepped back. Then, from somewhere near the left side of the crowd, one student clapped. Slow and uncertain. The sound carried too well in the silence, and the student who had started it looked like he immediately regretted it. A second pair of hands joined, then a few more. The applause spread through the crowd, uneven and reluctant. Within seconds, most of the first-years were clapping. None of them looked happy about it.

It was obvious that this was something they preferred not to do. A few clapped while staring at the ground. But were they really willing to incur the wrath of Celestia von Reingarde over something as cheap as applause? Definitely not. Unbeknownst to them all, Celestia was looking for and at one person. Arthur was standing near the middle of the first-year crowd. He could tell. Celestia's gaze was fixed directly on him. And looking back at her, he could read what was in those crimson eyes clearly enough. Pity.

And underneath it, disappointment. As if she had expected to see something worth her attention. Arthur's hands, hanging at his sides, curled into fists. The split on his lip stung where his teeth pressed against it from the inside, and he did not care. Within just a month, the gap between them was like heaven and earth. He had trained through the semester break. He had spent the last week inside the Tower on Floor 10, pushing himself through every trial he could manage.

He had walked into today's matches thinking he was ready to hold his own against the second-years. And then he spent the afternoon getting put into the dirt, over and over, by a student who had barely tried. This was one among many thoughts in his mind right now, regarding that witch. The applause had stopped, Professor Cassia called the next set of students, and Serena was saying something to him. However, he didn't hear her.