The morning of the tournament dawned clear and cold. The sun had just risen above Noxspire's towers, painting the academy's black walls in crimson tones, and students were already crowding at the entrance to the arena. A huge structure of dark stone, resembling an ancient amphitheater, stood in the center of the academic courtyard and usually lay empty, coming alive only during major trials. Today, it buzzed like a beehive. First years, second years, even some third years had come to watch the fights. The instructors occupied a separate box overlooking the arena, and among them Nox noticed Lady Morvane, Master Crow, Master Vellan, and Master Grave. All of them looked at the arena with that particular expression worn by people who knew more than they showed.
Nox stood in the shadow of a colonnade, waiting for his turn. His friends were nearby. Kane stood silently, arms crossed, and his calmness had a soothing effect on Nox. Iris nervously fidgeted with the edge of her robe and cast anxious glances at him. Mira, as always, was impassive, but Nox noticed her fingers gripping her wrists a little tighter than usual, where her own stone plates were hidden beneath her sleeves. Ren could not stand still, shifting from foot to foot and constantly adjusting his red hair, which still stuck out in all directions. Eveline stood slightly apart, clutching her book to her chest, her gray blue eyes full of both anxiety and hope.
«Remember what I told you,» she said quietly when Nox met her gaze. «The neck and behind the knees. Do not let him concentrate. He is strong as long as he controls his transformation. Break his rhythm, and he becomes vulnerable.»
Nox nodded. He remembered every word of her report. He remembered the sand charges in his robe pockets, the stone plates under his clothes, Iris's amulet on his wrist, and Ren's bracelet on the other. He was as ready as one could be for a battle in which he could not use his main power.
The herald, a tall man in a gray robe with a silver border, stepped into the center of the arena and announced loudly for all to hear:
«First pair! Nox, nameless, against Reinhart van Drake, heir of House van Drake!»
The crowd roared. Some shouted Reinhart's name, others whistled, others laughed. Nox heard several voices shout insults at him but did not even flinch. He was used to it. He stepped out of the colonnade's shadow into the light and slowly, with measured steps, walked toward the arena. His friends remained behind, and he could feel their gazes, full of anxiety and hope.
Reinhart was already standing on the opposite side of the arena. He was taller than Nox, broader in the shoulders, and his robe, unlike the standard gray, was tailored from expensive dark blue fabric with his family crest on his chest: crossed swords on a shield. He looked at Nox with the same arrogant smile as always, and there was not a trace of doubt in his eyes. For him, this fight was merely a formality, an opportunity to publicly humiliate the one who had dared to contradict him.
«Nameless,» he said when Nox came within a few steps. «You have no idea what a mistake you made when you decided to stand in my way. I will crush you on this arena, and your beggar friends will watch as their hero turns into a bloody stain. And then, when it is over, I will find your sister. The one hiding in Marta's tavern. And she will answer for your insolence.»
Nox froze. Something inside him snapped and instantly compressed into a tight, icy knot. Lin. Reinhart knew about Lin. He was threatening her. That changed everything. All his plans, all his caution, everything Sylvana had taught him, fell away. Only one thing remained: this man had just signed his own death warrant.
«You will not touch her,» Nox said. His voice was quiet, but there was something in it that made Reinhart's smirk waver for a moment.
«I will. And there is nothing you can do about it, nameless. Because after this fight, you will be lying in the infirmary licking your wounds. Or perhaps you will not get up at all. Tournament rules forbid killing, but accidents, alas, happen.»
The herald raised his hand, calling for silence, and Nox knew there was no more time for words. He stepped back to his starting position, not taking his eyes off Reinhart. Something inside him had changed. The cold, calm fury that had driven him forward all these years now burned in him with a steady, low flame. He no longer thought about winning without revealing himself. He thought only of protecting Lin. At any cost.
«Begin!»
Reinhart lunged forward. His body transformed before Nox's eyes: his skin took on a metallic sheen, his muscles bulged, his fists clenched into hammer like shapes. He moved fast, much faster than one might expect from a man of his build, and Nox barely had time to sidestep, letting the first blow pass him by. Reinhart's fist slammed into the stone floor of the arena, and the slab cracked, shattering into fragments. The crowd gasped. If that blow had reached its target, Nox would already be dead or gravely wounded.
Nox leaped back, increasing the distance, and pulled out one of the sand charges on the move. Reinhart lunged at him again, but Nox threw the charge at his feet. A cloud of fine, penetrating dust rose up, enveloping the aristocrat. He coughed, shook his head, trying to blink his eyes clear, and at that moment Nox struck. Not with magic, no. With a simple, crude kick to the back of the knee, where Eveline had said the transformation was weaker. Reinhart roared in pain and fury, his leg buckled, and he lost his balance for a moment. Nox jumped back again, not giving him a chance to counterattack.
«A dirty trick, nameless!» Reinhart rasped, trying to blink the sand from his eyes. «Do you think that will help you?»
Nox did not answer. He pulled out a second sand charge and threw it again, this time aiming for Reinhart's face. He tried to block with his hand, but the dust still got into his eyes and nose, making him cough again. Nox used this to move to the side and land another blow, this time to the neck, aiming for the vulnerable spot Eveline had mentioned. His fist met metallic skin, and pain shot through his arm to his shoulder, but Reinhart also staggered, clutching his throat. The transformation weakened for a moment, and Nox saw the metallic sheen on the aristocrat's skin dim.
«You will pay for this!» Reinhart roared and, forgetting all caution, charged at Nox, swinging his hammer like fists. He was enraged, his control weakening by the second, and Nox used it. He dodged, jumped, rolled, using his speed and agility to stay out of reach. The sand charges were gone, but it no longer mattered. Reinhart had trapped himself with his own rage.
Nox activated Iris's amulet. A bright, blinding flash of light struck Reinhart directly in the face. He screamed, clutching at his eyes, and his transformation finally broke. The metallic sheen vanished, his skin became ordinary again, vulnerable. Nox activated Ren's bracelet and felt the world around him slow down. Three seconds. He had three seconds to end this fight.
He leaped. Not as he had leaped before, relying only on his muscles. He leaped, putting into that leap all his Shadow, all his dragon blood, all his fury and determination. He was beside Reinhart faster than he could open his eyes, and he delivered a single strike. Not with his fist. With an open palm, into which he poured all the Shadow he could safely use without revealing himself. The strike landed on Reinhart's chest, where a person's heart lies.
Reinhart was thrown backward. He flew several meters and crashed onto the stone floor, gasping for air. His eyes were full of pain, disbelief, and for the first time, fear. He tried to get up, but his legs would not obey. He tried to summon his magic, but Nox's Shadow, which had entered him with the strike, blocked his power. He was defeated. Completely and utterly.
Silence fell over the arena. The crowd, which had just been roaring in anticipation of blood, went still. No one had expected such an outcome. The nameless boy, who did not even have a last name, had just defeated the heir of House van Drake. Not just defeated, destroyed. In a few minutes, using only agility, tactics, and some cheap artifacts. It was incredible. It was impossible. But it had happened.
The herald, who also seemed to be in shock, stepped into the center of the arena and raised Nox's hand.
«The winner! Nox!»
The silence exploded. Some shouted in delight, some in outrage, some simply could not believe their eyes. But Nox did not hear them. He looked at Reinhart, who lay on the floor unable to move, and his eyes were cold.
«You lost,» he said quietly, so only Reinhart could hear. «And remember: if you or your brother so much as lay a finger on my sister, I will come back. And then you will not just lose. You will die. Slowly. And very, very painfully. Do you understand me?»
Reinhart looked up at him, and there was not just fear in his eyes. Horror. He saw something in Nox's eyes, something that should not have been in the eyes of an ordinary nameless boy. Something ancient, cold, and infinitely dangerous. He nodded, unable to utter a word.
Nox turned and walked away from the arena. His friends were waiting for him at the exit, and when he appeared, they rushed toward him. Iris was crying, not hiding her tears. Kane clapped him on the shoulder so hard Nox nearly fell. Mira was smiling, and in her amber eyes was respect. Ren jumped around, shouting something enthusiastic and incoherent. Eveline stood slightly apart, looking at him with an expression that mixed gratitude, admiration, and something else Nox could not name.
«You did it,» she said quietly. «You won. For her. For your sister.»
«For all of us,» Nox answered. «For everyone they consider dirt beneath their feet. This is only the beginning.»
He looked toward the instructors' box where Lady Morvane sat. She was looking at him, and in her gray eyes was something like approval. But also concern. She knew this fight was only the first step on a long and dangerous path. And that the real trials were still ahead.
Somewhere in the shadow of the colonnade stood Magnus van Drake. He was watching Nox, and his face was pale with rage. He had just seen his younger brother humiliated before the entire academy. And he was not about to forgive it. But he had also seen something else. In Nox's final strike, in the way he had moved in the last seconds of the fight, there was something that did not fit the image of an ordinary dark mage with a blurred aura. Something that required closer study. Magnus did not know who Nox truly was. But he intended to find out. And when he did, he would use it to destroy the nameless upstart once and for all.
Nox felt his gaze but did not turn around. He knew Magnus was there. Knew the older brother would not let this go. But right now, he did not care. He had won. He had protected Lin. And he had shown everyone that being nameless did not mean being weak. As for what came next… there would be another battle. And he would be ready for it.