I think I’ve seen this before, somewhere. Gaius eyed the small crowd sitting in the spectator stands, most of them holding on to some food and chattering loudly. They were in the same amphitheatre that had been used for the combat tests a few days back, and surprisingly enough, most of these arenas were already filled.

“What’s going on?” Gaius asked, his question directed at Mrs. Clara.

“Oh, you know. For some reason, in the first week of the school year, people always challenge someone else who’s either placed higher in combat rankings or people they have a grudge with,” said Mrs. Clara. “Of course, technically you aren’t ranked higher than the good countess here” —she gestured at Countess Reinford, who turned away with a refined snort— “but the school thought otherwise.”

“Right.” Gaius cleared his throat. “And the phrontistery allows this?”

“Well, the cost of using an arena, as well as the presence of a medic, are inflated five-fold and billed to the loser,” she replied. “On average, the first week of school nets the school administration enough money to keep operating for the rest of the term.”

“So how much does that amount to?” the countess asked, her eyes blinking.

“Per person? Well, a hundred gold. Multiply that by five to get five hundred,” said Mrs. Clara. “Of course, in return, whatever bets that the two fighters made are guaranteed by the school. Failure to uphold one’s bets is grounds for suspension.”

“That’s fairly cheap,” said Gaius.

“Cheap?” Mrs. Clara glanced at Gaius. “What does your family do that five hundred gold is peanuts to you?”

Hmm. Harvesting gems and digging up little balls of energy from snowpyre corpses? Gaius shook his head and smiled. “Some little business, that’s all.”

In fact, the boy, before leaving for the North, had packed even more gems. If his memory served him well, he had taken a thousand along with him. At the current market price, which was also around five hundred gold per gem, he would have half a million gold…

“Alright,” said Countess Reinford. “I know what I want. If I win, you must tell me what your family does.”

“Why on Orb does the challenger get to make a bet?” Gaius asked.

“It’s just some words,” the countess replied. “What, scared?”

Gaius smirked. She was trying to bait him, but the thing about fishing was that hooking too big a catch could make one lose a rod. “In that case, let’s escalate this bet, since you want to gain something from it. You’ll listen to three orders of mine, unconditionally. How’s that sound?”

By now, the boy had understood that she was under the impression that her chances of winning were actually high. This, naturally, was the cue for her to raise her own stakes, and she didn’t disappoint.

“Let’s adjust this. If you win, I’ll listen to three of your orders. If I win, you’ll listen to one of mine,” she said. “How’s that?”

“Mrs. Clara?” Gaius asked. “Is that acceptable?”

“Yes, so long as you don’t say something like ‘Listen to my every order’,” she replied. “I’ve recorded these two as the official stakes for this duel. Is there any objection?”

Gaius smiled. “Nope.”

“None.”

“Very well.” The teacher raised her voice and said, “The stakes of this duel are as follows: if Gaius wins, Countess Reinford must execute three of his orders faithfully. If Countess Reinford wins, Gaius must execute one of her orders faithfully.”

Class 1-S, which was following behind with hands full of food, broke out into an excited murmur. At the same time, the spectators watching the battles turned their eyes over to Gaius and the countess, and the boy bared his teeth.

“This arena will do,” said Mrs. Clara. “It’s the toughest one in the amphitheatre, reserved for the Knight-rank students. Your attacks will not harm it.”

“Is that a challenge?” the countess asked.

“Please drop that line of thought.” She closed her eyes. “When I bring down my hand, the battle will begin. Are the two of you ready?”

“Ready.”

“Let’s make this quick,” said Gaius. “I’m hungry.”

Mrs. Clara nodded. “Three, two, one…begin!”

Gaius produced the Moonshot from his uniform — there were places where small weapons could be placed — and began firing it at the countess. Her eyes widened with shock as she caught sight of his weapon.

“That’s the Moonshot! How did you get it?!” Her eyes had changed into a frenzy of sorts, but she hadn’t lost sight of the original goal, taking out her own artefact and firing it at Gaius.

Her defences lit up as Gaius pumped shot after shot into it, but where one shattered, another would take its place. Meanwhile, his Barrier would flicker every so often, but her hits were doing nothing at all. If things continued on like this, it would be a comparison of whose defences were better, a battle that Gaius had a ninety-nine percent chance of winning.

The boy had a feeling that he could fall asleep, and she still wouldn’t be able to break through it. It was somewhat disappointing, but—

A few balls flew towards him, exploding on impact. A mild shock ran through his body, something that Gaius shrugged off, and the world changed in his eyes as he tapped onto his Blink ability. Reappearing behind the countess, who had taken to the skies, Gaius punched out casually at her back.

The ornaments in her hair shattered with a piercing radiance, projecting a giant circle, which shrank down into the size of a frisbee to intercept his single punch. At the last moment, energy erupted from his fist, shattering that automated defence that was poised to block that punch. The countess managed to turn her head, but by then, his punch had struck her in the back.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, before his target turned into a small shooting star. The ground shuddered as she slammed into the arena, sending a little ripple through the land itself and stirring up even more clouds of dust.

The battle was over. It was anti-climactic, but as far as achieving his goals went, Gaius didn’t mind a bit of boredom. He walked forward slowly, his eyes on the considerably-sized pit in the arena.

Would she still be able to stand? The battle was pretty much over, but Gaius was curious about his opponent’s tenacity. By now, the spectator stands had fallen silent, all eyes on Gaius’ opponent.

The boy licked his lips and waited.