Curse of the Bad Blood Dye

In the evening, inside the old duelist's hall, the scent of sweat and damp earth lingered, while Ms. Leona stood in the center delivering her speech in a deep, masculine voice. Her sword, sheathed in an oil-stained leather scabbard and gleaming steel, hung down. She recited her speech to the students specializing in fencing or those with dual disciplines, mostly boys with a few girls among them.

Today's lesson was just light warm-up exercises of running around the courtyard thirty-five times and forty push-ups of squats, while the exhausted students suppressed their fatigue and expressions of annoyance. Ms. Leona had promised them some time ago, at their request, that a duel would be held among them. She found no reason to refuse the offer, as it would boost the morale of her new students, as has been the custom throughout her years of experience here at the academy. They were supposed to draw lots to divide the competitors who would duel against each other. Instead, Ms. Leona divided them randomly, convinced of her decision, as she set the rules: win or lose.

Whoever drops their sword first loses the duel, and whoever steps out of the fighting arena marked by the chalk lines also loses the duel, and whoever surrenders likewise loses the duel.

The fight continues until the fencer loses or surrenders; even losing consciousness is considered a loss. Ms. Leona stated that if they truly want to be sword bearers, they must experience the pain and the feeling of vomit rising from their throats, for the sword does not distinguish between a noble's son and a commoner.

The rounds of combat began among the enthusiastic students, and many quickly fell, losing and becoming tainted by the moist soil of defeat, while others tasted the flavor of victory in their dry throats.

The duel event today was supposed to be a small gathering among the fencing students and Mr. Leona, but it seems to have attracted the attention of students from other disciplines as well, who stood at a distance cheering for their peers. Fencing has always been a form of entertainment coordinated at important events among noble families and festivals, especially in the lands of Olympus where the art of fencing was somewhat sacred. Ethan was able to spot Nila, the new student from earlier, standing in the stands like the other guests, where she greeted him from her position and smiled, and he reciprocated. Ethan had no friends throughout his time at the academy, which was nearing a week like the other students here, until Thalia Stromhaide brought him to the event in hopes that she could entertain herself.

Most of them ended up drinking from the shallow pool of defeat, while others enjoyed the thrill of victory. Although the duel was held at their request to Mr. Leona, they feared dueling a person known for his swordsmanship, as the members of House Versil were always rogues in the art of the sword. He stepped into the arena as his turn came, his golden hair preventing the simplicity of his leather belt, designed to hold the sword, from diminishing his elegant appearance. He stood waiting for his opponent. While the others were struck with awe; he was a descendant of House Versil, the symbol of the phoenix and the sword ، You should be careful with them in their field of specialization.

Since Frenith Farsil had waited long in the center of the arena, Mr. Leona called out to Ethan to stand against Frenith, who had a confident stance and tired, weary eyes. Ethan stepped forward, holding his wooden sword made from hard oak, just like the others, and now he was facing his opponent. Everyone present knew and trusted that Ethan would lose the duel in the next two minutes. Frenith was known for his talent against other peers; he had fought against older students and won, gaining strength from his house brothers. A foe like Ethan was not and could never be a match for him.

At Mr. Leona's signal to have them fight each other, Frenith jumped two steps, feeling the wind rush past him, and collided with Ethan, who blocked the blows one after another. Meanwhile, the shouts of excitement rose around the small fighting ring, its boundaries drawn with chalk. Frenith was harsh with his blows, which faltered before Ethan, who merely focused on defense, retreating like a lamb towards the deep cliff. Frenith found in Ethan an unbreakable wall, only retreating backward despite his attempts to land blows from different angles with his sword that shattered the wind's illusions. It was only Ethan who blocked him, content with defense, leaving the spectators astonished at how Ethan managed to stand against the cub of the Farsil family.

They did not know what Ethan had seen in his family's house during training. His house, which primarily relied on selling high-quality oak wood, also took care of making the empty Vermouth knights. Men built by the fire of wood and iron, Henry who was not merciful in training his younger brother Ethan. He always had to break his spirit and teach him that Vermouth does not fall easily until he sees how tough his opponent is. This was their motto that never bent. Frenith gasped as he writhed from exhaustion in front of the unyielding Vermouth son, who stood without bending. The students were shocked, most of them, especially Mr. Leona, as if she were looking at Ethan as a younger version of Henry. Frenith forced himself to make the mana flow through his body, and his wooden sword became harder, and now he was faster.

However, he was unable to keep up with the cunning Ethan. In turn, with a little mana, he solidified his sword and began to resist Frenith, who was also intensifying. He remembered how many times Eldric had broken his sword while training with him in the Knights' Whisper.

The blows and maneuvers intensified from Ethan's direction, who was deeply engrossed. Although Mana Frenith was purer and denser, Ethan broke Frenith's sword from its weak links, shattering the oak wood into splinters, followed by the handle falling from Frenith's shocked hand, and the gathered students. Ethan won the sword's base, and blood dripped from his forehead like a stream of hot water on his skin.

Frenith stood in shock as Leona announced after a long silence, "Ethan is the victor." Ethan saluted Frenith with a post-duel salute, and he did so with obvious hesitation. The dueling event of the day was concluded by Mr. Leona, and the students were allowed to return to their respective dormitories after the conclusion. Apparently, everyone forgot that Ethan belonged to the Oak family. Their blue emblem was always printed on their special flags in blue against a backdrop of a leafless oak tree with many branches.

The duel event today ended with a short speech from Mr. Leona before the students dispersed to their dormitories, as the curfew hours approached. Ethan remained alone after bidding farewell to Frenith following their duel, as did Neela, who had crossed his path. He took a hot shower and disinfected the small wound on his forehead, then concluded his day in his room. His room was like the other noble children's rooms here in Azoria: spacious with enough room to breathe and walk. He lay on his hard bed, looking at the ceiling of his room, restless with an unstable breath. He remembered his rivalry against the son of Farsil

Ethan knew that Frenith was a person of inevitable talent; if he continued on the same path, in the future, he would not be able to confront him on the dueling ground. After the duel, when Frenith shook his hand, he seemed to want to engage in a discussion with him, but he withdrew into silence and left Ethan. Sweat began to prevent Ethan from sleeping as every night, as he contemplated the stars from the window of his room on the second floor. After leaving his bed, he looked at the crimson moon, which was about to complete its 130th cycle since the founding of the Azoria Academy, "The Lantern of the North."

His vision faded into the sparkle of the night sky as he longed for his home in the south. He is now certain that Eldric is outside training the knights in the courtyard, and that his sister is in the office doing her paperwork, as has been the custom in his home since Henry left for the city and took up the esteemed position of a knight in the royal court.

He didn't feel drowsy because of the sweat that came from taking his medication. Therefore, he couldn't tell if what he was seeing was an illusion or not. A woman who looked more like a girl floating in the sky with a pale face accompanied by enchanting beauty, a blood-red dress hanging down, and white hair that seemed transparent. He couldn't distinguish if this was a hallucination from Mr. Aurelia's medicine, but what seemed real to him was the image of the girl approaching him and floating on this cold evening.