CHAPTER 66: MICHAEL VS AARON

The moment Aaron stepped into the training room, the air shifted. Conversations quieted, a few heads turned, and whispers rippled through the rows of spectators sitting in a wide half-circle around the open arena.

Michael sat lounging on a chair in the center of the stage like a man without a care in the world. One leg was casually crossed over the other, arms resting lazily on the armrests, as if the whole event had been arranged purely for his amusement.

"Aaron. You arrived," he said, his voice calm yet laced with the faintest smugness.

Aaron’s eyes swept across the gathered faces, the gleam of anticipation in the crowd unmistakable. Some students leaned forward with elbows on their knees, ready for a show; others simply watched with that quiet, predatory curiosity that only came before a good fight.

"Well..." Aaron exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "This event isn’t exactly what I was expecting. Not like I get to complain, though. I already racked up enough points to last me the entire session."

There was a light smile on his lips, but his gaze was restless, scanning the arena like he was already planning his next move.

"Don’t be pissed," Michael said, leaning forward with an easy grin. "It’s better we get this over with and become best of friends quickly."

Aaron didn’t reply right away. Instead, he felt a faint presence at his side — Alice, arms folded, her eyes fixed sharply on Michael.

"Alice," Michael said, turning to her, "can I assume you’ll sit this one out?"

Her reply came instantly. "I’m afraid not. You’re a Blessed, Michael. Aaron won’t be able to bypass your domain. Only a Blessed can fight another Blessed. If you don’t want to look like a coward, then fight me instead."

Her tone was calm but firm. Beneath it, however, was a quiet edge of worry. She knew what it meant to face a Blessed — she had fought Michael before. And she knew how badly this could go.

Aaron, however, only gave a small, confident smirk. "Come now, Alice. You’re hurting my pride. Who said I can’t hit a Blessed? Have a little faith in me and sit this one out."

In truth, there was no way he was letting her hog the spotlight while he sat in the background like some rescued bystander. Letting her fight would mean she’d get all the aura, all the attention, and all the whispers in the dorms... and him? He’d be relegated to the guy who got saved. That kind of rumor could spread faster than fire in the villa — and once it did, there’d be no peace.

Alice searched his face carefully. "Aaron... are you sure?"

"Yes. I am," he said, reaching for a plain-looking sword. It gleamed faintly under the arena lights, though its simplicity made it look almost unimpressive. His smile remained steady.

Michael chuckled, standing up from his chair. "That’s the spirit, Aaron. I knew you wouldn’t back down from a fight." He rolled his shoulders and began a few loose stretches, as if he were warming up for a friendly spar rather than a potentially brutal match.

Alice hesitated a moment longer, then finally sighed, stepping back toward the stands. Her movements were deliberate, but her gaze never left the two men in the ring. She joined the rest of the crowd, settling into her seat for the climax of the event.

Would the freshers prove too tough for the seniors, like last year? Or would the sophomores put the newcomers in their place, just as tradition dictated? The murmurs around her were split evenly between hope and doubt.

---

Meanwhile, not far from the edge of the arena, Graham was grinning like a man who’d set an elaborate trap.

"Quite the turnout for this little duel," he said, his eyes scanning the crowd. "I could’ve sworn I saw Professor Elias in here somewhere."

The training room wasn’t just a room. It had been reinforced by the powers of several high-ranked Awakened, its walls capable of withstanding devastating attacks. The place looked more like a gladiator’s coliseum than a school facility.

Edwin stood beside him, watching the preparations with a calm, calculating expression. "Are you certain Michael can win this? The point of this battle is his victory. If he loses, our plan to pressure that weakling into leaving the villa will backfire completely."

Graham gave a confident smirk. "Trust me. Michael’s got this. Everyone knows no one can bypass a Blessed’s domain. If anyone could, Michael’s father would’ve killed him a long time ago. That’s not exactly a secret."

Satisfied, Edwin straightened his jacket. "Then I suppose it’s time I played my part."

He walked toward the center of the arena, every step measured, until he stood before Aaron and Michael like a judge presiding over a trial.

"The two of you wish to fight an epic battle — free of tricks, wits, and cunning. A praiseworthy thing, especially for you, Aaron. After all, you’re still just a fresher." His tone was diplomatic, but the faint glint in his eyes betrayed something less noble.

"In light of that, I will officiate the match to ensure fairness. That is... if you both agree."

Aaron’s mind ticked instantly. He wasn’t fooled. He knew exactly what Edwin was trying to pull. Still, he gave a casual shrug and a smile. "Fine by me."

Michael glanced at Edwin. "I have no problem either, as long as you don’t interfere."

"Then I shall officiate with fairness," Edwin said, his expression unreadable.

Aaron tilted his head slightly. "Before we start, allow me to give you some advice, President. Give up on the villa. You’ll never get it from me — no one will, not until I leave this school."

"I see," Edwin replied evenly, as if the jab had rolled right off him. But deep inside, Aaron could practically feel the man’s temper ignite.

"Begin!" Edwin’s voice rang out sharply, cutting through the air.

---

Michael’s smile widened as his body transformed. His blue hair shifted to a bright, burning red, flames licking along the strands. His eyes blazed with the same fiery intensity, and in the space of a heartbeat, an armor of living fire enveloped his frame.

"Try not to get hurt by my flames," he said, before vanishing in a burst of speed.

His arm swung toward Aaron’s face like a burning blade, the heat radiating off it so intense it distorted the air.

Aaron simply tilted his head and stepped aside with lazy precision, letting the attack miss him entirely.

"You should’ve dodged further," Michael grinned, and before Aaron could fully reset, flames roared brighter along the same arm. The fire surged forward, grazing Aaron’s face and searing the skin instantly.

"Urgh!" Aaron hissed, stumbling back a step. His hand hovered near his cheek, though he resisted the urge to touch it. The stinging heat was enough to make his vision waver.

"Hey, System," he muttered under his breath, voice dripping with annoyance. "He burnt my face!"

[Obviously. Your charm doesn’t work on Blessed. Plus—]

The voice in his head cut off as his skin began to mend. In the blink of an eye, the burn vanished, leaving his face flawless once more.

Michael straightened slightly. "Forgive me for targeting your face. I was counting on your super-healing."

"It’s fine," Aaron replied coolly. "But could you maybe... not target my face again? Handsome guys don’t mess with their faces."

"Sorry, man. I can’t hold back in a fight," Michael said with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his head.

Aaron paused, then raised a hand like a referee calling time. "Alright. Time out. I’m going home."

The arena went silent. Michael blinked. "...What?"

"I’m not fighting someone who can’t promise to keep my face out of it. That’s a deal-breaker. Besides, it’s just one-tenth of my total points. I can get that back by kicking some other senior’s ass." Aaron waved dismissively and stepped toward the exit.

Michael stared after him, completely at a loss. "Your face is healed though!"

"Doesn’t matter," Aaron said without looking back. "Face is off-limits, bro."

Before Michael could think of a reply, a calm voice cut through the tension.

"Well," Professor Elias said from behind him, stroking his beard, "that might be a bit more complicated... Aaron Highborn."