The world seemed to stutter.
When my palm made contact with Marcus's chest, it wasn't a physical impact. There was no thud of bone on flesh, no sound of leather striking steel. Instead, there was a hollow pop, like a bubble bursting in a vacuum.
The [Void-Severing Art] didn't hit Marcus's ribs. It hit his mana flow.
For a heartbeat, the Berserker Elixir's violent, red energy met the cold, absolute "nothingness" of the Void. The reaction was catastrophic. The red veins in Marcus's neck didn't just bulge; they turned a bruised, sickly purple. His eyes, once golden and arrogant, rolled back into his head.
BOOM.
An explosion of displaced air erupted from the point of contact. To the spectators in the bleachers, it looked like Marcus had swung his sword so hard that the "momentum" had backfired, or perhaps his own mana had reached a breaking point.
Marcus flew backward. His feet left the sand, his white cape snapping like a broken wing. He skidded across the arena floor, a cloud of dust billowing up as he tumbled through the dirt, finally coming to a stop at the very edge of the chalk circle.
The silence that followed was absolute.
I didn't stand there like a conqueror. I didn't strike a pose. Instead, I let my knees buckle. I collapsed into the sand, clutching my chest and gasping for air, making sure my face was pale and my hands were shaking.
[Notice: 'Void Touch' successful.]
[Result: Marcus's Mana Core has been temporarily 'Sealed'. He will be unable to use magic for 48 hours.]
[Fate Altered: The 'Invincible Prince' has been publicly humbled.]
[+1,200 Karma Points awarded!]
"Prince Marcus!" Commander Valerius was the first to move. He leaped from the instructor's platform, his heavy boots thudding onto the sand.
The Golden Knights followed, their capes a blur of crimson as they swarmed the fallen Prince. Elara was among them, her hands already glowing with a panicked, bright light as she desperately tried to cast a healing spell.
"He's... he's not breathing right!" Elara's voice, usually so calm and divine, was shrill with terror. "His mana is... I can't find his mana! It's gone!"
I stayed on the ground, "struggling" to stand up. I looked toward the royal box. Seraphina was standing, her hands gripped tightly on the stone railing. She wasn't looking at Marcus. She was looking at me, her eyes wide, her mind clearly racing to figure out what she had just witnessed.
[Observer's Eye: Seraphina is 90% certain you used a Forbidden Art. Her 'Interest' level has reached 'Dangerous'.]
"You!" Valerius roared, turning his gaze toward me. His face was a mask of pure, murderous intent. He marched across the sand, his hand reaching for the hilt of his real sword—the iron-clad blade meant for war. "What did you do to him, boy? Speak!"
I looked up at him, my eyes wide and watery, the picture of a terrified commoner. "I... I don't know! He was so fast... I just put my hands up to protect my face! I thought I was going to die!"
"He's lying!" Chadric screamed from the stands, his voice cracking. "I saw it! He touched him! He did something!"
"I saw it too!" another student shouted. "But it looked like Marcus just... exploded? Did his Elixir fail?"
The word 'Elixir' acted like a bucket of cold water on the faculty. Using Berserker Elixirs in a student duel was strictly forbidden—it was considered a disgrace to the Royal Family's "natural" talent.
Valerius froze. He knew Marcus had taken the potion. If he accused me of foul play, he would have to explain why Marcus's mana reacted so violently, which would lead to an investigation into the Prince's illegal drug use.
[Notice: You have successfully leveraged the Villain's 'Secret Sin' against them.]
"The Prince... the Prince suffered a mana-backflow," Valerius growled, his voice low enough that only those on the arena floor could hear. He looked at the knights. "Get him out of here. Now! Tell the crowd the heat and the intensity of the duel caused a temporary exhaustion."
The knights hoisted Marcus's limp body. He looked pathetic—covered in dust, his mouth hanging open, his golden hair matted with sweat and dirt. The "Golden Prince" was being carried out like a sack of grain.
"And Voss?" one of the instructors asked, pointing at me.
Valerius looked at me with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred. If looks could kill, I would have been incinerated on the spot. "He... he wins by default. The Prince is unable to continue. Now get this trash out of my sight before I forget my station."
I stood up slowly, dusting off my pants. I didn't look at the crowd. I didn't look at the faculty. I walked out of the arena with my head down, the perfect image of a student who had just "gotten lucky" for the hundredth time.
But as soon as I entered the cool, dark tunnel leading back to the locker rooms, my expression changed. The "fear" vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp focus.
[Current Karma Balance: 2,200 KP]
[Warning: You have 3 minutes before Lady Seraphina corners you in the hallway.]
I didn't go to the locker rooms. I turned left, heading toward the library. I needed to spend those Karma points immediately. Marcus was down, but Valerius was now a direct threat, and the Saintess Elara would soon realize that Marcus's core wasn't just "exhausted"—it was damaged.
I opened the Shop.
"I need something for the faculty," I whispered. "Something that makes them look elsewhere."
[System Suggestion: 'Mirror of the False Truth' (One-time use) - 1,500 KP]
[Effect: Plants a false memory in a target's mind. Perfect for making Valerius 'remember' seeing a Demon Cultist in the shadows of the arena.]
"Buy it," I said.
The points vanished. A small, silver coin appeared in my palm, etched with a weeping eye.
I tucked it into my sleeve just as the sound of silk rustling reached my ears. I didn't need the System to tell me who it was.
"That was quite the 'accident', Kaelen," Seraphina's voice drifted from the shadows. She stepped out, her emerald eyes glowing with a predatory light. "You just turned the future Emperor into a vegetable in front of five hundred people. Do you have any idea how much trouble we're in?"
I turned to her, a slow, dark smile spreading across my face.
"Trouble? No, My Lady," I said, flipping the silver coin in the air and catching it. "The Prince just had a very unfortunate reaction to a forbidden potion. It's a tragedy, really. But the real story... the real story is the Demon Cultist I saw hiding under the royal box."
Seraphina paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the coin in my hand. "A Demon Cultist? There was no—"
She stopped. She looked at me, then at the arena, then back at me. A slow, chilling laugh escaped her lips.
"You're not just a wolf in sheep's clothing, are you?" she whispered, walking toward me until our chests almost touched. "You're the one who built the sheepfold."
"And you're the one who's going to help me burn it down," I replied.