The wind that once carried petals now carried tension instead.
"Hey, you! Leave our friend alone—or we'll show you what hell looks like!"
The shout ripped through the courtyard like thunder. Heads turned. The crowd parted as three figures strode forward from the academy's main path—Shaumin, Sabastian, and Natasha—their faces carved with fury.
Shaun, barely conscious, lifted his head. Through blurred vision he saw them standing between him and Vince like a wall of light against shadow.
Vince's eyes narrowed. His grip on Shaun's collar loosened just enough for Shaun to slump to the ground, coughing. One of Vince's followers sneered and stepped forward.
"Stay out of this, kids. Let our boss finish teaching this commoner some manners. You'll get your turn soon enough."
Shaumin's jaw tightened. "Funny," he said coolly, stepping forward, "I was thinking the same thing about you."
The follower's grin faltered.
Shaumin's voice rose. "You lay another hand on him, and you'll regret it."
Natasha clenched her fists—electricity flickered faintly at her fingertips.
"Leave Shaun alone! We won't let you hurt him anymore!"
Sabastian moved beside them, his calm voice cutting through the tension.
"Touch him again, and we'll take you down—one by one if we have to."
The courtyard buzzed with whispers. No one ever challenged a royal before—especially not Vince Dragonblade.
Vince's lip curled. "So… you're his friends?" He looked at Shaun with disgust. "How fitting. Commoners attract their own kind."
Sabastian's glare sharpened. "He has a name—Shaun Thunderhawk. And this academy teaches equality between all magi, Commoner or Noble. Maybe you skipped that lesson."
A faint twitch crossed Vince's face, his pride stung. "Equality? Don't make me laugh."
Shaumin's tone turned razor-sharp. "You know what's funny? A so-called prince who acts like a playground bully."
Gasps rippled through the watching disciples.
Vince let out a slow, humorless laugh. "Big words for a group of apprentice-rank nobodies. Do you even know who you're talking to?"
"Don't care," Shaumin replied flatly.
"Then enlighten me," Vince said, voice dripping with mock amusement. "Who are you three, who dare speak back to me?"
Sabastian took a firm step forward. "Sabastian Seaborne. And I don't care if you're a prince—hurt my friend again, and I'll drown that ego of yours."
Shaumin straightened, wind stirring around his gii. "Shaumin Skyline. Remember it—because it'll be the name carved into your defeat."
Natasha stepped beside them, eyes sparking with restrained fury.
"Natasha Ikazuchi. And if you ever touch my Shaun again—" her voice cracked with emotion, "—you'll wish you hadn't."
For a moment, Vince's amused expression froze.
"Wait…" he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Skyline? Ikazuchi?"
Recognition dawned, followed by a slow, cruel smile. "Well, well—the minister's son and the commander's daughter. No wonder you all have such pretty manners."
Shaumin's brow furrowed. "You know my father?"
"Of course," Vince said smoothly. "Minister Skyline serves my father's court. A loyal man. It's almost sad his heir would disgrace his name defending filth."
Then he turned to Natasha, gaze venomous. "And Commander Ikazuchi's daughter, no less. A soldier's brat playing protector to a peasant? How poetic."
Natasha's fists trembled, sparks dancing across her knuckles, but she held firm. Shaumin stepped forward, voice steady but burning.
"First of all, Vince, I'm nothing like my father—or yours. I don't measure worth by bloodline or title. And as for this filth you're talking about—"
he pointed at Shaun, "—he's twice the man you'll ever be."
Wind swirled around him, lifting petals into the air. The onlookers murmured, sensing tension build like the calm before a storm.
Vince's smirk faltered for the briefest moment. "You'd betray your own class for him?" he asked coldly.
Shaumin's eyes burned like lightning. "If that's what it takes to call myself human—yes."
A gust burst outward, ruffling Vince's hair and cloak. The air crackled with defiance. Sabastian shifted into stance beside him, water energy glimmering faintly at his feet. Natasha mirrored them, lightning threading through her aura.
The three of them—Apprentices, yet unflinching—stood shoulder to shoulder before one of the academy's strongest nobles.
Vince's composure darkened into a sneer. "How touching. Best friends fighting together… then dying together."
He raised his hand, energy gathering in a swirl of black and crimson light. "I'll make sure your loyalty is buried beside him."
The crowd instinctively backed away, feeling the surge of mana twist the air. The courtyard held its breath as the first sparks of battle ignited—between arrogance and friendship..
**********
Vince inhaled, palm already raised to shape a spell—when a hand clapped his shoulder and a smooth, confident voice interrupted.
"Prince Vince, leave the toys to us," said Gauther Valemont, stepping forward with a lazy grin.
Gauther was broad-shouldered and handsome in a cruel way, his long hair tied back with a golden clasp engraved with the Valemont crest—a hawk devouring a serpent. "You've got better things to do than scrape mud off your hands. We'll handle this."
Vince's mouth curved into a cold smile. "Fine. Clean it up—fast. I don't want to miss my afternoon spar."
He stepped back, folding his arms, eyes glinting with the pleasure of watching someone else do his dirty work.
Gauther grinned and glanced over his shoulder at the others behind him—Rhett Drayden, a tall, black-haired brute who lived for a fight.
Luka Vance, slender and sharp-eyed, every motion deliberate; and Clara Moonveil, a brown-haired prodigy whose serene smile hid a streak of cruelty. Together, they were Vince's shadow—a group the academy quietly feared.
"Well then," Gauther said loudly, his voice smooth as oil, "which one of you wants to go first? Be generous—volunteer. Lunchtime's short, and I've got better things to do."
The words dripped with arrogance. His gaze swept over them like a blade—lingering a little too long on Natasha.
Something cold twisted in Shaun's chest. Pain and fury tangled together—fear for his friends, shame for dragging them into this. He pushed himself upright, every breath burning.
"Stop it!" he shouted. The sound cracked through the courtyard like a whip.
Gauther paused, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He turned, brow raised. Even Vince's eyebrows lifted—surprised that the commoner still had the strength to bark.
"You again?" Gauther sneered, tilting his head. "What are you going to do, commoner? Gasp us to death—or bite us?"
Shaun's reply came rough and trembling, but his voice did not break.
"Don't—don't touch them. You can hurt me all you want, but if you lay a finger on my friends—you'll regret it."
A low ripple of laughter followed, sharp and mocking. Rhett chuckled under his breath; Luka smiled thinly; Clara covered her lips, feigning pity.
"Oh, I'm terrified," Gauther said, pretending to tremble. "Look at you—bleeding, barely standing, and still pretending to be a hero? This is better entertainment than theatre."
Then his gaze slid back to Natasha. His smirk darkened.
"And what a pretty prize you've got, commoner's little love-chick. Maybe once your brave protector's down, she'll come to me quietly."
Natasha froze—then her jaw tightened, lightning crackling faintly at her fingertips. The disgust in her eyes could have cut steel.
"Get your filthy eyes off her," Shaun snapped, his voice cutting through the courtyard like a blade.
Gauther laughed—a deep, amused sound. "Oh? So the crippled commoner still wants to play knight?" His hand lifted, mana curling around his fingers in a crimson haze. "You can barely save yourself."
The crowd stirred—some grinning with cruel anticipation, others watching in uneasy silence. Vince leaned back, hands tucked into his sleeves, savoring every second of the spectacle he had engineered.
Then—a breeze rippled through the petals. Wind coiled around Shaumin, water shimmered faintly beneath Sabastian's feet, and static flared in Natasha's aura.
Gauther's grin faltered—just slightly. The air was no longer still. For one long heartbeat, no one moved. Then—the courtyard exhaled, and the storm was ready to break.
**********
The courtyard shimmered under the midday sun, the air heavy—charged with tension and the scent of crushed petals.
Shaun hung limp in the grip of two of Vince's followers, his knees barely brushing the tiles. Every breath rattled like broken glass. Blood streaked his jaw; the fight had already gone far past fair.
Gauther's grin widened as he turned toward Shaun's friends.
"So," he said lightly, "which one of you brave little heroes wants to fall first?"
The taunt slid through the air like oil. He cracked his knuckles, smirking at their defiant stances—Shaumin's wind dancing around him, Sabastian's water shimmering faintly at his feet, and Natasha's lightning flickering across her clenched fists.
"Don't be shy," Gauther added, stepping closer. "You'll all get your turn."
Behind him, Vince watched like a bored emperor awaiting bloodsport.
"Make it quick," he said lazily. "I've wasted enough time."
Shaun's friends tensed, ready to fight—but for all their courage, the odds were cruel. They were still apprentices facing trained nobles with years of battle experience.
Shaun could only watch. His body screamed in pain, but his mind screamed louder. He saw Natasha's trembling shoulders, Shaumin's protective stance, Sabastian's silent focus—and something inside him broke.
"Stop it!" Shaun rasped. The sound cracked through the courtyard.
Everyone froze for a heartbeat. One of Vince's lackeys turned toward him with an irritated snarl.
"Still got breath to bark, huh?" he sneered—and before anyone could react, his fist slammed into Shaun's face.
The impact echoed. Shaun's vision burst white, pain blooming behind his eyes. His body sagged, half-conscious, blood trailing from his lip. As his world began to fade, thoughts clawed at the edges of his mind.
No... I can't let them get hurt because of me.
His heartbeat thundered. Vision blurred. The world dimmed until only the laughter and footsteps remained.
And through that haze of pain, he whispered—barely audible.
"I want… power."
No one heard him. His lips moved again, voice trembling but sharper now.
"I want power… to protect them."
**********