Chapter 512: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: Arguments Upon Arguments

At the seating section reserved for the First-year students of the Royal Academy...

Lyra, Nina, and Zack were all staring toward the fight platform.

None of them were paying attention to the conversations around them anymore.

Their Cognis had already been passed through their sensory systems, sharpening their sight and hearing as much as their bodies could manage. They were trying to see through the thick fog of dust and snow that had swallowed the entire platform after the Mauser Tankgewehr M1918 had been fired.

They needed to know one thing.

Was their Lady alright?

Nina looked especially worried.

She had been ranting angrily about Grace having a Mauser Tankgewehr M1918 almost from the moment the weapon appeared. Even the normal version of the massive rifle possessed enough destructive power to make anyone watching Vera’s fight feel uneasy.

And now that the shot had actually been fired, Nina’s worry had become impossible to hide.

Her hands were tightly gripping the edge of her seat while her eyes remained fixed on the platform.

"With a rifle like that..."

She muttered under her breath, unable to finish the sentence.

Vera’s safety was worth getting overly worried about.

Zack was worried as well, although his expression was much calmer than Nina’s. His eyes remained glued to the battlefield, waiting for even the smallest movement that could confirm that his Lady was fine.

Lyra, however, looked excited as usual.

She didn’t seem to share the same fear.

There was no doubt in her mind that Vera would win.

To Lyra, Vera winning was almost as natural as the sun rising in the morning.

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes shining as she tried to see through the dust.

"She’ll be fine."

She said it with complete confidence.

A little farther away, around seven to ten seats to the right, Ezra sat in the same section.

His arms were folded, and one leg was crossed over the other. Unlike Nina, he didn’t show much movement.

He simply watched the fight platform.

His expression remained calm.

But his eyes weren’t wandering looking for anyone.

They stayed on the battlefield.

Veda sat to his left, one hand resting against the armrest. His posture was much stiffer than Ezra’s, and his eyes were filled with worry as he stared toward the place where his twin sister had disappeared behind the dust and snow.

He knew Vera.

He knew how strong she was.

But that didn’t mean watching someone fire a Mauser Tankgewehr M1918 at her was something he could calmly accept.

The same could be said for Grant Evergrey.

He sat with the Elders and High-board members of the Evergrey family in their designated section of the Arena.

His eyes remained fixed on the battlefield.

He looked genuinely worried that something bad had happened to his sister.

For several moments, nobody could see anything.

The dust and snow continued to swirl across the ruined platform, carried by the lingering force of the explosion.

Then, after a while...

The fog began to clear.

Slowly.

The dust thinned first, revealing pieces of shattered stone scattered across the battlefield. Snow lay over broken sections of the platform, while cracks spread outward from the place where the Mauser’s bullet had struck.

More of the battlefield appeared.

Then more.

The Arena became strangely more quiet.

Many eyes widened.

Some people even forgot to breathe for a moment.

It wasn’t the destruction of the fight platform that caused the reaction.

The platform had already suffered tremendous damage during previous matches, and everyone knew that the Craft-Based Academy staff could repair it.

It wasn’t Vera either.

She was standing calmly on top of a pile of broken rocks.

Her hands were folded together as she looked toward a particular body lying outside the broken portion of the platform.

Her face remained expressionless.

Calm.

Almost bored.

The sight that truly shocked everyone was Grace Evergrey.

She was lying on the floor beyond the ruined section of the platform.

Part of her training clothes had been torn apart, and numerous cuts covered her body. Blood slowly dripped from several of them, staining the fabric and the ground beneath her.

And then the afternoon sunlight broke through the thinning dust.

It revealed several thin little needles embedded across her body.

Grace looked completely different from the elegant Noble Lady who had stepped onto the platform at the beginning of the match.

Now, she looked like her life was hanging by a thread.

Before Patrick could even speak, the medic staff rushed toward her.

Their movements were no longer orderly.

They ran.

Several dropped to their knees beside Grace while others immediately began preparing healing equipment.

One senior medic looked at the amount of blood covering Grace’s clothes and his expression tightened.

"Hurry! Bring out the sixth-grade healing elixir!"

His shout echoed through the Arena.

Yet the Arena itself remained almost completely silent.

Only the voices of the medical staff could be heard as they worked around Grace, applying first aid and checking her condition.

Patrick stood behind the commentary table with the microphone still in his hand.

"Emm..."

He didn’t know what to say.

His eyes shifted toward Grace, then toward Vera.

Should he announce the winner?

Or should he wait?

The situation was far more serious than anyone had expected.

Then a calm voice came from behind him.

"Announce the winner, Mr. Patrick."

Patrick turned.

Professor Giggs Ryan stood near the side of the door, leaning against it with a calm expression.

Patrick stared at him for a moment.

Then he nodded.

"Okay."

Patrick West still looked shocked.

But a winner had to be announced.

He picked up the table microphone.

"Winner!!"

His voice immediately drew the attention of the entire Arena.

The remaining little conversations stopped.

Everyone looked toward him.

"Lady Vera Ashenlocke!!!"

Patrick shouted Vera’s name.

His voice echoed throughout the enormous Arena.

The reaction was immediate.

Vera’s fans erupted into cheers.

"LADY VERA ASHENLOCKE!"

"LADY VERA ASHENLOCKE!"

"THE JEWEL OF ASH!"

"THAT’S MY LADY OF ASH!!"

"THE BEST FLOWERS!!!"

The cheering rose despite Grace still lying on the ground while the medics fought to stabilize her.

Some of Vera’s supporters didn’t even seem to care about the condition of the girl she had fought.

"Shouldn’t Lady Vera Ashenlocke be disqualified?"

A fan of Grace shouted, clearly displeased.

"Shut up, sore loser!"

A Vera fan immediately shouted back.

"But she nearly killed Miss Grace Evergrey!"

"Didn’t you just say nearly?!"

"That doesn’t change Miss Grace nearly dying!!"

"This is a Competition for the strongest Young Alchemist, you know how important this is for all the Young Children."

"Miss Grace Evergrey also used a dangerous gun that could easily kill Lady Vera Ashenlocke."

The argument quickly became louder.

It spread through the audience, mixing with the cheers for Vera.

The loudest objections came from the House of Evergrey.

Countess Henriette Evergrey immediately protested, demanding that Vera be disqualified for nearly killing Grace.

Her expression was furious, and she looked ready to argue with anyone who disagreed.

But the Count of Evergrey raised one hand.

The gesture was enough.

He ordered her to stop talking.

Henriette’s mouth closed, although the anger in her eyes remained.

Around them, many Elders, High-board members, Mainlines, and Highlines voiced their frustrations.

The situation became even louder.

The Ashenlocke Elders and High-board members, however, remained relaxed.

Elder Fredricks was the exception.

He openly voiced his satisfaction at seeing Grace Evergrey fighting for her life.

His words were loud enough for both the Evergreys and the Drakeses to hear.

He provoked them openly.

That immediately drew a response from one of the Drakes Elders, a woman who was already known for having little patience for the Ashenlockes.

Her displeasure was obvious.

One argument became another.

Then another.

Soon, several different groups had started arguing across the Arena.

The Royal Academy staff and professors had no choice but to move through the seating areas, separating Nobles before their arguments could turn into actual fights.

Some were High-class Nobles.

Some were lower-ranking Nobles.

Even a few Non-Nobles had become involved in the heated arguments.

The Arena had almost turned into another battlefield.

Yet in the middle of all that noise...

Vera calmly jumped down from the broken platform.

Her boots landed on the damaged stone without much sound.

A female medic approached her quickly.

"Lady Vera Ashenlocke, are you okay?"

The medic’s eyes moved over Vera’s body, searching for any visible injury before checking whether there could be internal damage.

"Yes."

Vera replied plainly.

She didn’t even glance at the girl she had nearly killed.

There was no need.

Her message had already been delivered through what she had just done.

Vera turned away.

She lifted one hand and waved lazily toward the medic, her expression already showing that she had grown bored with all the noise surrounding the match.

The female medic hesitated before handing Vera a healing elixir anyway.

"Just in case."

Vera accepted it without complaint.

Then she continued walking away.

The medic quickly returned to the others treating Grace.

At that moment, Grace’s fingers twitched.

Her body moved slightly.

"Calm down, Miss Grace Evergrey."

A senior medic knelt beside her.

"We have to remove all the needles so they won’t pierce your inner organs any further."

He reached toward one of the thin needles.

Grace couldn’t answer.

Her throat refused to produce a sound.

Her head spun badly, and her vision continued becoming more blurred.

All she could see were moving figures surrounding her.

Blood had also entered her field of vision, tinting everything red.

The white parts of her eyes had become visibly red, and when the medic carefully removed one of the needles, more blood flowed from the wound.

Grace clenched her teeth weakly.

Then her eyes moved.

She managed to look toward Vera’s leaving figure.

She couldn’t sense the needles.

Not even slightly.

Was it because she had been too focused on charging the Mauser Tankgewehr M1918?

She couldn’t tell.

She only knew that she hadn’t sensed them.

Even though she had heard the rapid gunfire from Vera’s handguns, she had never detected the needles moving through the air.

There were only a few possibilities she could think of.

Grace’s breathing became weaker.

"Was it..."

Her lips barely moved.

"...made from Umbrium?"

She asked herself weakly while continuing to stare at the direction Vera had walked away.

Grace knew a lot about the Ashenlockes.

She knew about the rights the Duke House possessed over several rare ores, and Umbrium was one of the materials they still had considerable control over even after those rights had been shared.

So, the possibility wasn’t impossible.

It wasn’t only because the needles were thin.

That alone shouldn’t have been enough to make them completely disappear from her senses.

The real reason was how they blended into the afternoon light.

They had almost vanished against the bright sky and sunlight.

And Vera had aimed them perfectly.

The needles had struck vital spots and important areas of Grace’s body, weakening her hands and the rest of her body at almost the exact moment she fired the Mauser.

That was why her hand had suddenly weakened.

That was why she had dropped the massive rifle immediately after pulling the trigger.

Grace’s vision became darker.

Her thoughts became heavier.

"Damn it..."

Her voice was barely audible.

Her eyes remained fixed on Vera’s distant back.

"Is this the distance between me, an Evergrey..."

She struggled to breathe.

"...and this falling trash family’s Genius?"

The question remained in her mind.

Why?

Why did a trash family that is supposedly falling have someone as talented as Vera Ashenlocke?

Why couldn’t I be born as talented as her?

Tears slowly gathered at the corners of Grace’s eyes.

They slipped down her cheeks and mixed with the blood already covering her face.

Her eyelids became heavier.

Before she finally lost consciousness, one last image entered her mind.

The two handguns Vera had created.

Grace’s eyes slowly closed.

What were those guns?

That was her final thought before darkness took her.