Chapter 522: The Grand First-Year Combat Festival: Hold your Head High

"Sir Ravenor Burnwick!!!"

"Absolute Dominance!!"

"Young Lord of Burn!!"

"I love you, Sir Ravenor Burnwick!!!"

"As expected of the Young Lord of Burn!!"

The fans of Ravenor cheered brightly, their voices rising from different sections of the Arena as they celebrated his victory.

Some of them waved Burnwick banners above their heads.

Others stood from their seats, clapping while shouting his name over and over again.

But among the spectators who had been cheering for Veda, the mood was completely different.

Many of them looked sad.

Some had even gone completely quiet.

Others continued staring at the destroyed fight platform as if they were still hoping Veda would somehow get back on his feet.

"He did his best... Sniff...Sniff."

A young Non-Noble girl said to her parents, tears already gathering in her eyes.

She held a small hand fan with Veda’s picture imprinted on it.

The picture was slightly bent from how tightly she had been holding it.

"The Young Lord of Ash only lost because he got tired... Hic..."

She said while hugging her mother, crying because her favorite Young Alchemist had lost.

Her mother gently placed one hand on the back of her head and let the girl cry against her.

And it wasn’t only her.

For many of the young children and even the teenagers among the spectators, Veda’s defeat felt like they had lost something too.

They knew he had lost.

They knew Ravenor had won.

But that didn’t mean they had stopped supporting him.

For some of them, Veda’s performance had been enough to make them admire him even more than before.

He had stood against one of the most talented young Alchemists of his generation.

He had taken Ravenor’s strongest attacks.

He had pushed his own Alchemy to the point where the entire fight platform had been destroyed.

And although he had fallen in the end, he hadn’t gone down without making Ravenor fight for the victory.

At the seating section of the First Years of the Royal Academy...

Nickolas, Linda, and Tracy all looked sad.

They leaned forward in their seats, their bodies almost hanging over the edge as if they wanted to jump from the stands and run toward the fight platform.

Linda’s hands were tightly clenched.

"This is so unfair."

She said while looking at the fight platform, her eyes locked on Veda’s unconscious body.

Ravenor had caught him before he could fall to the ground.

Linda’s eyebrows were pulled together.

She didn’t like the result.

She didn’t like seeing Veda lying there after everything he had done.

"But he did put up an amazing display of strength."

Tracy said calmly.

There was still a proud smile on her face despite Veda’s defeat.

Nickolas and Linda looked toward her.

For a moment, neither said anything.

Then the sadness in their expressions eased slightly, and proud smiles appeared on their faces too.

"Yeah, he did."

Nickolas said softly.

The three of them looked back toward the platform.

They had wanted their Young Lord to win.

But they couldn’t deny what he had shown.

He had made the entire Arena remember the name of the Young Lord of Ash.

Then another voice rose above cheering for Ravenor.

"You did your best, Young Lord of Ash!!"

A young noble man’s voice echoed loudly through the Arena.

"You are still the best, Sir Veda Ashenlocke!!"

Another voice shouted from a different section.

"Young Lord of Ash!!"

The voice echoed across the stands.

"I still love you, Sir Veda Ashenlocke!!"

"The Unbreakable Steel of Ash!!"

"The Unbreakable Steel of Ash!!"

"The Unbreakable Steel of Ash!!"

"The Unbreakable Steel of Ash!!"

More and more voices joined in.

Soon, the entire Arena was filled with applause and cheers for Veda.

Even though he had clearly lost.

The Medic staff entered the fight area during the cheering, carrying a stretcher toward Ravenor and Veda.

The crowd didn’t stop.

If anything, the cheers for Veda became louder when people saw the medical staff preparing to take him away.

At the seating section of the High Powers of Britannia, several important figures watched the scene.

The Duke of Burnwick calmly looked toward the two Duchesses of Ashenlocke.

"Ashenlocke has a good future leader."

He said calmly.

There was a genuine feeling to his words.

"Thank you, Duke Aldous."

Duchess Hailey replied softly.

She nodded once, a pleased smile appearing on her face.

The fact Britannia’s strongest Duke said something this good about Veda Ashenlocke. Made her smile more pleased that the son of Aurora who was scorned by his own family in the past, is now getting acknowledged by the whole Kingdom.

"Are you crying Bale."

She turned her attention to Bale who covered his face, while his shoulders shook.

"No."

Bale said, his voice cracking.

"Your Mother and the Duke will be really proud of him."

She placed her hand on his hair and rubbed it, before she moved him close, hugging him tightly.

"Oh, my scholars, you are such a cute softy."

Duchess Hailey said with an excited smile on her face while embracing Bale.

"Stop, I’m not a kid, mother."

Bale struggled to get himself free from her embrace, but Hailey didn’t let him.

"If the Duke was around to watch his son, he would be proud."

The second Duchess of Burnwick, Ravenor’s mother, said with a pleased smile.

"Thank you."

Duchess Regina replied with the same pleased expression.

Byron Ashenlocke, who was sitting on her left as usual, calmly looked away from the fight platform.

His expression didn’t show it, but he had a quiet sadness in his heart.

Not only did his title as the oldest son of the Duke of Ash mean nothing in the fight for the Heir title.

He just watched the person who he once dismissed as nothing, take the Young Lord title and even get a moment with the Flower he wanted.

Tsk, everything is just annoying.

He thought to himself, with a faint frustration building within him.

Back on the fight platform...

Ravenor finally lowered Veda onto the stretcher that the Medic staff had brought.

The senior member of the medical staff stepped forward.

"Thank you, Young Lord of Burn."

He said politely.

Ravenor waved his hand once.

He then turned his head and looked around at the crowd.

His scarlet eyes moved across the countless spectators.

The cheers for Veda Ashenlocke were still continuing.

Even after his defeat, people were still shouting his name.

The voices were so loud that, at certain moments, they almost seemed to overpower the voices of the spectators cheering for Ravenor.

Ravenor remained silent for a moment.

His scarlet eyes returned to Veda’s unconscious body.

The Medic staff lifted the stretcher and began carrying him away from the destroyed platform.

Ravenor watched them leave.

Talent still reigns over hard work, but...

A faint smile appeared on Ravenor’s face.

It wasn’t a mocking smile.

It wasn’t the expression of someone looking down on Veda.

His eyes simply remained on the Young Lord of Ash as the medical staff carried him farther away.

"Hold your head high, Young Lord of Ash..."

Ravenor muttered to himself.

"Because you have really come a long way to reach this point."

He had lost.

That fact wouldn’t change.

Ravenor had won because his talent and control had allowed him to survive the final clash.

But Veda had also shown something that Ravenor couldn’t ignore.

The boy he had once known as a cheerful child, and later as someone who had been treated as the less talented twin, had continued moving forward.

He had worked.

He had trained.

He had endured.

And he had pushed himself far enough to make Ravenor use everything necessary to secure the victory.

"Sir Ravenor Burnwick."

A female member of the medical staff called his name.

She approached him with a small medical kit in her hands.

She wanted to apply first aid to the cuts across his skin.

Ravenor turned toward her.

His previous expression disappeared, returning to his usual calm appearance.

He followed the medical staff away from the fight area so that they could treat his injuries before he returned to his seat.

The Craft-Based Royal Academy staff entered after Ravenor and the Medic staff left.

They immediately began repairing the fight platform.

The work was going to take some time.

The platform had already been damaged during the beginning of battle between the two young lords, but the final clash between Ravenor and Veda had destroyed an enormous section of it.

Broken stone covered the ground.

Several pieces had been thrown toward the edges.

The snow had been mixed with dust and fragments of rock, while melted sections of metal from Veda’s firearms could still be seen among the remains.

Workers spread across the platform and began using Earth Alchemy to restore the damaged ground.

At the same time, the four large Holographic Screens changed.

The previous scene disappeared.

A replay of the final moments between the two Young Lords appeared.

"Wow, I’m watching the events that happened during their final clash, and..."

Patrick’s voice echoed through the Arena speakers.

He paused for a moment.

"Just wow."

His voice sounded completely amazed.

The Holographic Screens replayed the final sequence at a slower speed.

The spectators who had been unable to properly see the battle before now had a chance to watch the attacks again.

The screens showed Veda’s hundred and five Lee-Enfield No. 4 Rifles.

Then Ravenor’s one hundred and twenty Scarlet Flame Balls.

The two Mass Alchemies moved toward each other.

The screen slowed down even further as the attacks collided.

"This battle shows just how much talent the Young Lord of Burn possesses."

Professor Natasha said calmly while looking at the Holographic Screen in front of her.

Patrick turned toward her.

"Oh, Professor Natasha, can you please take us through what happened? Because I don’t think many of us really understand to what depth the Young Lord of Burn went to win."

His expression clearly showed his curiosity.

Many of the Non-Alchemists in the Arena were curious as well.

They had watched the fight.

They had seen the explosions.

They had heard the gunfire.

But understanding exactly why Ravenor had won was a completely different matter.

Professor Natasha calmly watched the replay.

"Young Lord Ravenor was able to realize that Young Lord Veda’s firearms were all Fourth-Grade."

She began explaining what she had interpreted from the fight’s final moments.

"Fourth-Grade?"

Patrick’s eyebrows rose.

"What does the Young Lord of Burnwick have to do with knowing what grade the firearms the Young Lord of Ashenlocke created were?"

He looked more confused than before.

Many Non-Alchemists among the spectators looked equally confused.

Most of them knew little about Alchemy.

And when it came to Gun Alchemy, the amount they understood was even smaller.

Professor Natasha rested her chin against the front side of her interlocked hands, her elbows placed on the table.

"That’s because the Young Lord of Burn made his Mass Alchemy Scarlet Flame Balls have enough temperature to melt the Lee-Enfield No. 4 Rifles."

The explanation immediately caused a few spectators to look toward the Holographic Screens again.

Patrick’s eyes widened.

"So that’s how..."

Several low-ranking Alchemists also showed signs of understanding.

Even a few High-ranking Alchemists had found it difficult to decipher how Ravenor had melted all of Veda’s Lee-Enfield No. 4 Rifles during the clash.

Professor Natasha continued.

"The Lee-Enfield No. 4 Rifles being Fourth-Grade makes their melting point 2,450 degrees Celsius, which is at this point because of the alloy mixture of Black Steel and Orichalcum..."

She paused.

The Holographic Screen behind her showed one of the Lee-Enfield rifles as the replay focused on the metal beginning to melt under the heat.

The audience became quieter.

Many people listened carefully.

"You know the philosophy of the main principles of Flame Alchemy are enhancement and manipulation."

She continued calmly.

"And with the Alchemist rank your Cognis is in, it allows the Flame Alchemist to elevate the temperature of the flame he or she is using to perform the Alchemy, or, the freer the Flame Alchemist is, the more effectively he or she is able to manipulate the flame being used."

Another short pause followed.

Patrick was still staring at the screen.

Professor Natasha continued her explanation.

"The Young Lord of Burnwick elevated his Mass Flame Alchemy, making each of the Scarlet Flame Balls hold a temperature of 2,700 degrees Celsius."

Her finger pointed toward the Holographic Screen.

"That was enough to melt not only the firearms of the Young Lord of Ashenlocke, but also the bullets fired from them."

The replay showed the Scarlet Flame Balls swallowing the incoming bullets.

The metal began to glow.

Then it melted away.

Patrick’s expression changed as everything finally connected.

"So... so that means, that time when Sir Ravenor Burnwick exploded those bullets that came at him before even the Mass Alchemy situation happened..."

He looked toward Natasha.

"He was using the same melting-point calculation?"

The understanding had finally reached him.

Around the Arena, several spectators also began discussing the explanation.

Those who understood Alchemy started connecting what they had seen earlier in the battle to what Natasha had just explained.

Ravenor’s seemingly simple finger snaps had not been random.

His Flame Alchemy had been powerful enough to destroy Veda’s incoming bullets before they could reach him.

And during the final clash, he had taken that same principle even further.

The difference was that this time, there had been one hundred and twenty Scarlet Flame Balls facing more than a hundred firearms.

The battle hadn’t been decided simply by who possessed more creations.

Ravenor had understood the limits of Veda’s weapons.

And he had raised the temperature of his own Flame Alchemy beyond those limits.

The Young Lord lost on pure skills, and Cognis Control.

He had multitasked so much with his Cognis and that made his Mass Gun Alchemy come out in a low grade, giving Ravenor the chance to exploit this weakness.

At the end of the clash...

Veda reached his body limit.

The Holographic Screens continued showing the replay as the repaired platform slowly began taking shape below them.

The Eighth Round had only just begun.

Yet the very first battle had already given the spectators another reason to keep watching.