Lisa blinked in disbelief."He… he really beat Darian."
The two professors were equally shocked, unsure where to begin—Frank's behavior or Darian's defeat. Everyone knew Darian had started at a disadvantage, but no one truly believed he would lose.
"Congratulations on your victory, Élio. Let's head to my office to discuss your reward. Lisa, please stay here with Frank. Clarck, follow me," Clément said, a forced smile on his face.
"Alright," Élio replied, following Clément without hesitation, as if he anticipated what was to come.
Before leaving, he cast a quick glance at Frank, who returned the look. It was as if they understood each other.
Lisa turned to Frank, her curiosity piqued."Can you explain why you stopped Darian? Others have done worse without facing any consequences."
She was familiar with Frank's history—a once-unknown fighter from the impoverished districts who rose to prominence as a soldier upon reaching Rank 4, a notable achievement. He gained recognition by battling Level 30 monsters in the no man's land, risking his life to save fellow soldiers. Eventually, he became known among the kingdom's fighters by attaining Rank 5. While the general public might not know all Rank 5 individuals, fighters typically are aware of all Rank 6 and 5 warriors, and some Rank 4s like Frank before his promotion.
In truth, Frank had been discreetly sent as a spy to Asturia while still Rank 4. The challenge was integrating into a society where no one knew his origins. He managed to escape the hellish life in Saba thanks to his skills and, notably, his blue eyes—resembling those of Asturian soldiers—a fact that irked him. In Saba, life was harsh, but he had been trained and treated like a prince. Here, he was just another fighter, his appearance unremarkable. Frank had to remain discreet to avoid suspicion, but as a 20-year-old man, he craved recognition, competition, and a chance to stand out. To gain acceptance among his team and fulfill his desires, he took risks. Ten years later, he held a rank higher than his former masters in Saba could have imagined and occupied a significant position within Asturia.
Frank sighed, his gaze distant."Darian crossed a line. Rules exist for a reason, and he disregarded them."
Lisa raised an eyebrow."But others have bent the rules without repercussions."
Frank met her eyes."Intent matters. Darian's actions were malicious. I couldn't let that slide."
Lisa nodded slowly, absorbing his words."I see. Still, your intervention was unexpected."
Frank offered a faint smile."Sometimes, the unexpected is necessary."
Meanwhile, in Clément's office, the atmosphere was tense. Clément gestured for Élio to sit.
"Your performance was impressive," Clément began. "But tell me, how did you manage it?"
Élio leaned back, his expression calm."I observed Darian's patterns, anticipated his moves. It was a matter of strategy."
Clarck, standing nearby, interjected."Strategy or luck?"
Élio shrugged."Perhaps a bit of both."
Clément studied Élio for a moment before nodding."Regardless, you've earned your reward. We'll discuss the specifics later."
"You're not exactly what I expected," Clarck said, arms crossed. "You fight like someone who's done it for real, not just in a training yard. Where did you learn?"
Élio paused before answering."I grew up in the lower districts. We didn't really have schools. Or rules."
Clarck narrowed his eyes slightly, but not out of judgment—out of interest."So you're self-taught?"
Élio gave a short nod."When you grow up in a place where fighting keeps you alive, you learn fast. You watch. You try. You survive."
Clarck seemed to weigh that answer, then gave a small grunt of approval."Makes sense. You don't move like someone who was told what to do—you move like someone who learned what worked."