The Legendary Knight: Rise of the Primordial Dragon

Chapter 111: The Duel

"15 credits on Lorenzo."

"10 credits on Lorenzo."

"50 credits on Lorenzo."

The excited, eager voices of teenagers echoed across the open campus as they gathered before the betting table, eagerly placing their credits on who would emerge victorious in the battle between Vlad and Lorenzo.

More than a hundred students had assembled in the open campus outside the main building, surrounding a raised platform at the centre. The evening sun was cascading long, stretching shadows across their excited, chattering faces.

At the betting table itself, Max, the Fiscal Officer of the Student Council, was sitting with focused concentration, collecting the credits through the council’s finance phone. The upper button of his blazer gleamed in golden colour, proudly showcasing his status as a member of the Student Council.

"Wow, everyone hates you, bro," Max gasped as he noted another bet placed for Lorenzo, shaking his head in disbelief.

The betting ratio was a staggering 98.22% in favour of Lorenzo. "Beat the hell out of him and screw whatever credits these brats possess," Max snickered inwardly, his fingers moving like lightning across the screen as he recorded their bets. He glanced up at the stage where three figures stood in stark contrast to each other.

Vlad stood on one side of the hundred-metre-square dirt platform, his arms folded casually across his chest, his expression calm and unbothered. A few metres away, directly in front of him, stood a young man with short, moss-green hair. His sharp auburn eyes were fixed on Vlad with intense focus, his jaw clenched tightly in an attempt to suppress his simmering fury.

Between the two combatants, Raphael stood in a straight, imposing posture. His short blonde hair was meticulously styled, and a golden monocle rested perfectly over his eye. His uniform was flawless, without even a single crease or strain marring its surface. Even the collar button of his shirt was firmly closed, adding to his pristine appearance.

’He looks like as if he was made for the role of Discipline Head,’ Vlad mumbled inwardly, scanning his rigid, formal posture with mild amusement.

With how casually relaxed Vlad seemed, Lorenzo was growing even more annoyed by the second. It was as if Vlad was indirectly saying that he did not even consider him an equal.

"Was it you who authored those contemptuous remarks on the forum?" Lorenzo demanded, his eyes narrowing.

’Th-this guy. Why is he trying so hard to sound philosophical,’ Vlad muttered inwardly, feeling annoyed just from his accent and choice of words. ’Should I try trash-talking to bring his true nature out?’

With that thought in mind, Vlad replied with a careless shrug, pointing at his crimson coat, "there is only one Vlad in the academy who is a Crownbearer. Surely you aren’t so stupid as to not recognise your own Crownbearer."

Lorenzo took a deep, steadying breath to calm his frayed nerves, although the veins on his temple were already bulging prominently. He knew Vlad was only trying to provoke him, and he refused to entertain his taunts by responding to them.

Raphael glanced at the watch on his wrist. The moment it struck exactly 4:00 pm, he declared in a deep, measured tone that carried across the entire gathered crowd, "This is the duel between Lorenzo Camber, a two-ring mage from the Order of Rings, and Vlad Lumberjack, a Novice grade from the Order of Knights, with the title of Crownbearer on the line. Once one party surrenders, touches the floor, or becomes unconscious, the duel will end."

He raised his hand high and declared as he brought it down sharply, "Begin the duel."

From his storage ring, Vlad drew out The Éclair, the longsword he had swung for several hours the previous night to get accustomed to its weight and balance.

’I am wasting the time I could be spending in the library studying my elements here,’ Vlad murmured inwardly, the thought alone annoying him to no end. ’I need to end this battle in a way that no one would dare to challenge me again. I cannot afford to waste more time when I have a promise to fulfill.’

He was still entertaining these thoughts when suddenly over a dozen thick vines bolted towards him from the front, snaking through the air with alarming speed.

He unsheathed the sword, its sharp blade gleaming under the warm sunlight as he swung it in a wide arc at the incoming serpent-like vines. He sliced through them with relative ease, but surprisingly, they instantly regenerated and coiled around his sword, arms, and legs. The fabric of his clothes pressed inward as the grip of the vines tightened relentlessly around his body.

"Your fleeting notoriety has clearly intoxicated your judgment, weakling,"Lorenzo’s amused voice came from the front. His silhouette was covered in a faint green mana as he commanded the vines with the mere flick of his finger. One of the vines coiled around Vlad’s throat, the grip tightening into a suffocating choke. "Surrender. You are hopelessly outclassed."

"Are you being serious right now?" Vlad asked, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion. He slightly raised his chin and slammed it down to his chest. The vines broke like dried twigs from the sheer force. With a mild push, he broke his limbs and sword free as well, the vines shattering as if they were nothing more than a spider’s fragile web.

"Oh god, don’t tell me I wasted my time for this," Vlad muttered, facepalming himself in utter disappointment.

Lorenzo had heard him loud and clear. The words struck his pride like a physical blow, his face twisting with indignation.

"I have exercised restraint solely because you have yet to forge a mana heart," Lorenzo said, the mana around his body raging with increased intensity. He swayed his arms through the air, the thick mana moving along the motion in visible, shimmering waves. "I do not wish to harm you, weakling. Walk out before you get seriously injured."

While he was still talking, he suddenly snapped his hands towards the sky with a smug, confident smirk.

"Two Ring Magic: Bramble Prison!"

Several vines erupted violently from the ground around Vlad’s feet, twisting and interlocking tightly to trap him in a dome-shaped cage. From the surface of these vines, numerous sharp thorns suddenly burst inward, stabbing into him from all directions.

A wave of gasps echoed from the gathered students, a few girls even closing their eyes as Vlad appeared to be punctured by the sharp thorns. Or at least, that was what it appeared to them.

In the next instant, numerous intersecting lines appeared across the surface of the vines. The vines crumbled to the ground, chopped into countless pieces. Vlad emerged from inside with a few thorns still stabbed into the back of his palm and throat.

He stepped forward, appearing completely unbothered by the thorns embedded in his flesh, his grip around the sword tightening with cold resolve. He flexed his muscles, shoving the thorns out with casual ease. They had only pierced his skin enough to draw a single bead of blood from each minor wound.

Lorenzo flinched, his eyes widening in genuine shock. He was about to cast his next spell when Vlad fixed him with his predatory, blood-red eyes. The earlier playfulness had completely vanished from his face, replaced by something far more dangerous.

"Taking it easy, you say?" Vlad said, his tone dropping to an icy cold as he moved forward with measured steps. "The hypocrisy in your words truly baffles me. There is nothing notable about a claptrap, spouting opportunist, pre-Copernican obscurantist with no backbone to speak of! Now that you tried to kill me, I hope you are prepared to die as well."