CHAPTER 116: SNATCH & MATCH

In an instant, so quick that Eirin’s mind couldn’t even register the movement she lost her headband. One moment it was there, a tight band on her head, the next, it was gone. She was unknowing of how it came loose, how it had been taken, but then she saw it. It was already in Shade’s hand, a stark white contrast against his dark leather gloves.

"You!" Eirin screamed, a sound of shock, frustration, and betrayal. Her voice ripped through the air, raw with disbelief.

Eirin’s team, enraged and bewildered, immediately chased after Shade’s group, a desperate attempt to take back what was rightfully theirs, to reclaim their hard-earned survival. But Shade and Trixtan ran away as if their lives depended on it, their speed amplified by their Flairs, leaving the white team in their dust.

Eirin, from her place, continued using wind gusts, sending powerful bursts at the other teams, trying to get rid of them, to clear their path, to remove any hindrances, but it was futile. The red team, with Shade’s stolen trophy, was too fast, too agile. They couldn’t get their headband back.

And then, a moment later, the bell started ringing, the signal for the game to stop, its clear, decisive peal cutting through the lingering chaos.

"No! No, we can still get it back!" Eirin screamed, her voice hoarse, a desperate, final plea, but all powers were stopped, cut off by Mr. Blade’s authority, the magic in the air dissipating like smoke.

Mr. Blade clapped his hands together, a loud, resounding smack. "That was chaotic indeed! A truly thrilling Cavalry Battle!" he exclaimed, his face alight with excitement. "Now, let’s look at the ranking, shall we?" He pointed at the massive hologram of rankings that materialized beside him, shimmering with projected light.

Eirin, her body suddenly devoid of adrenaline that had drove her, felt her legs buckle. She fell onto her knees on the paint-splattered ground, devastated by what had just happened.

The finality of the bell, the sight of the hologram, shattered her composure. ’I couldn’t possibly look at Link’s face ever again,’ she thought, the weight of her perceived failure crushing. She had been the rider, the protector of the headband, and she had lost it.

"What are you doing down there, Luxfield?" Eirin looked up, and saw Shade standing over her, his infuriatingly smug look back on his face, a triumphant glint in his eyes. He held her headband aloft, a white trophy.

Eirin’s eyes welled with tears of frustration, blurring her vision. "You! Liar! How could you snatch our headband like that? You said you wouldn’t get us eliminated!" She slapped Shade’s arm, a stinging blow, but the young man merely raised a brow, unaffected, a silent challenge in his gaze.

Shade pointed a finger at the hologram, a silent command. Eirin’s eyes, still brimming with unshed tears, slowly, reluctantly looked in that direction, tracing the line of text. Her eyes widened, slowly taking in the words. Just then, Link rushed to her, his face alight with a triumphant smile, and pulled her into a right, exuberant hug.

"You guys did it! We survived!" Link exclaimed, his voice filled with pure joy.

Eirin, confused by whatever had just happened, her mind still reeling from the loss of her headband, looked at Shade’s direction. The young man was showing his tongue, a childish, taunting gesture, teasing the teenage girl, a playful challenge in his eyes.

’W-What? I swear he took my headband away from me!’

she thought, her mind struggling to reconcile the conflicting realities. She had seen him take it. She felt it!

Mr. Blade, his voice now filled with a grand, dramatic flourish, continued his announcement. "Now, here’s the twist. The only ones participating for our final event, the true grand finale, would be the participants of the cavalry game from these three groups: the red team, white team, and pink team!"

All the seniors from the white team, who had been resting on the bleachers, watching the game with an air of relaxed detachment, suddenly stood from their seats, their faces etched with devastation at the news. Their hopes of advancing had been dashed.

"But of course, the winner must decide who they should fight for this one-on-one battle! So, what are you waiting for? Come up here now, Shade Cromwell!"

Shade, his smirk widening into a full, triumphant grin, walked up the stage, moving with an effortless confidence that bordered on arrogance. Mr. Blade handed him another microphone, placing it squarely in his hand.

Mr. Blade smiled. "Since your team won this round, I will be allowing you to choose who you would like to battle in the grand finale, a one-on-one spectacle for all to witness!"

"Hey! Isn’t that unfair!" a student from the pink team yelled from the crowd, outrage in his voice.

"Of course he’ll choose someone weaker than him!" another shouted, bitterness lacing his words.

"Everyone’s weaker than him, shut up!" a third, resigned voice grumbled.

All students were engaged in constant bickering, a furious wave of complaints and arguments due to the sudden, unexpected twist of the game, the unfairness of the winner choosing their opponent. But Shade ignored them, his gaze fixed, unwavering. He held the microphone to his lips, and his voice, clear and precise, cut through the crowd, silencing everyone.

"I choose Eirin Luxfield."

All eyes, hundreds of them, immediately went to Eirin after Shade’s declaration, a collective grasp rippling through the field. She stood there, frozen, the sudden weight of all that attention crushing her, her heart pounding a furious rhythm against her ribs.

Shade, still on stage, met her gaze, his smirk back, a challenge, a promise, and a knowing glint in is dark eyes. The final battle, personal and unavoidable, was set.

Link’s brow furrowed, a deep line appearing between his eyes as he stared at Eirin. His gaze then flickered to Shade, who remained on the stage, an infuriatingly self-satisfied grin plastered across his face.

"What is that guy planning to do?" Link muttered, a question laced with suspicion and frustration. He crossed his arms and sighed. Shade’s unpredictability was a constant tactical headache.

Link sighed. ’We’ve been friends since childhood, but I just don’t get him,’ he thought, sighing in defeat as a smile formed on his face.

Eirin shrugged, a small, involuntary movement, as she continued to stare at Shade. He still looked utterly pleased with himself, a picture of smug triumph. His dark eyes glinted with amusement, and a faint, almost invisible bounce to his step indicated his buoyant mood.

The moment their eyes met, Shade’s smile grew wider and Eirin felt her heart thump as she immediately averted her gaze, holding onto her chest.

"Now choose for the others too," Mr. Blade’s voice boomed, interrupting Shade’s silent basking in victory. The demand seemed to break Shade’s reverie.

Shade scratched his ear, no care in the world, a gesture of casual indifference. "I don’t care. You decide," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the silent field. He then casually handed the microphone back to Mr. Blade, dropping it into the bewildered man’s hand, and sauntered off the stage, leaving the young professor to handle the rest of the pairings. His lack of interest was almost insulting.

Mr. Blade ended up having to choose for everyone, selecting opponents for the remaining pairs from the red, white, and pink teams. Trixtan, apparently, had wanted to fight someone completely random, just for the sheer trouble of it, but Mr. Blade, keen on maintaining at least an illusion of fairness for the other final battles, insisted on a structured approach.

"Okay, we will be doing a roulette on which pair will battle first," he announced, gesturing to a large glowing holographic wheel that appeared beside him, already spinning with names.

And of course, with the cruel, whimsical twist of fate that seemed to govern Eirin’s life, that pair turned out to be Eirin and Shade. The wheel spun, names blurred, and then, with an agonizingly slow grind, it clicked to a halt, displaying their names side by side.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by a wave of murmurs and excited whispers. Nothing could even begin to explain how much Eirin struggled to keep a straight face, her composure a fragile mask, hiding the raw, unfiltered terror that threatened to consume her. Facing Shade Cromwell in a direct, one-on-one battle, with everyone watching, was a nightmare she hadn’t anticipated.

’How did I muster the courage to face him before? When we first fought?’ she thought, a sudden realization hitting her. ’Ignorance was indeed a bliss.’

Eirin remembered their chaotic, almost playful skirmishes during their ’training,’ battles fought without the weight of expectations or public scrutiny. Back then, her understanding of his overwhelming power had been academic, not visceral.

Now, it was terrifyingly real.

They were given enough time to rest and get healed in the infirmary, a clean, sterile room filled with the scent of antiseptic and quiet murmurs. The academy’s healers moved with practiced efficiency, mending minor injuries and restoring depleted mana, ensuring that every participant would be in their best form for the upcoming one-on-one battles. Eirin sat on a padded bed, trying to control her erratic breathing, her mind replaying Link’s strategy, his faith in her.

"That jerk! No wonder he gave you back the headband!" Coleen’s voice, sharp with annoyance, cut through Eirin’s thoughts as soon as Eirin emerged from the infirmary, her body feeling lighter, her mana replenished.

Coleen immediately clung to Eirin’s arm, her pout obvious, her eyes narrowed in fierce resentment. "He was planning this all this time. That manipulative jerk!" She squeezed Eirin’s arm.

Eirin tilted her head. "You saw it, didn’t you? He did take my headband?" She needed to confirm, to make sense of the dizzying turn of events.

Coleen nodded, her vibrant purple hair bouncing with emphatic motion. "He took it, quick as lightning, and swiftly gave it back to you before the bell stopped ringing. It was almost too fast to see. He made it look like he kept it, that you’d lost." Her voice softened. "He’s like a child, really."

Eirin sighed. "He said he wanted to test if I really did improve with all that training with him."

Coleen shook her head. "He’s just playing with you, Ei. Toying with you. He likes to push people’s buttons, and yours are clearly his favorite." She moved closer to Eirin. "If you realize you can’t win, if it gets too much, you don’t have to continue fighting him, okay? It’s not worth getting seriously hurt for."

Eirin smiled. "I’ll still try my best, Coco. But I promise to be careful."