With the sudden declaration, all eyes focused on the elf. Surprised but not intimidated, Nisha calmly held eye contact with the current occupant of the king’s seat. Alexander’s sudden attempt to make her public enemy number one seemed to stem from an aversion towards nobles rather than paying her back for finally losing the duel in the third round.

As a born ruler, the dragon never feared any challenges. While she couldn’t always win right away, a way to change that fact almost certainly always existed.

And faced with a human mage barely above the middle of the second mana rank, Nisha could only laugh at the prospect of losing.

“Hmpf, it’s just an elf who relies on her inherent advantage. But against real talent, you’re worthless.”

Perhaps the noble named Weston misunderstood her gaze and experienced a subconscious threat; he instantly tried to assert dominance by further denouncing the other party.

Unfortunately - for him - the elf in question happened to be many things, but not someone who easily allowed others to provoke her. A dragon’s natural pride displayed itself in a far more brutal fashion than a human’s.

 

Approaching the now empty challenger seat, one of the ‘king’s’ lackeys blocked her path.

“Do you think you’re fit to …”

He didn’t get to speak further, as a pair of golden eyes locked onto him. Instead of acting high and mighty on account of Weston, suddenly the bully saw a different scene. Akin to a frog cowering beneath a giant snake, the words he was about to speak got stuck in his throat, the mesmerising force of the illusion completely subduing him.

With a slight disdain in her eyes, the dragon decided to let him off the hook. Even as an underling, this was too shameful. Her self-respect would suffer if she took action against such a weakling.

This arrogance was not misguided or unjustified. As the group roused a mighty predator, the initiative no longer laid with the people around Weston’s hands. Just by crushing him with her innate demeanour, Nisha chose to spare him, as he simply proved no threat at all to her. Giving up before even trying furthered the contempt visible on her face.

Naturally, the elf had a reason to advance aggressively. The same tactic had been used previously by command of Weston. Others might not know, but the dragon could see it with her [Spirit Sight]. Using his group as a buffer the young mage currently did his best to refill his mana pool. Otherwise, he would have no chance to prevail after successive challenges and would run out of strength.

 

At the beginning of the lecture, every single student had paid some attention to this elf in a somewhat similar fashion. Coming late to the class, garbed in a warrior’s attire and covering almost half of her face with a blue scarf, most of them wondered who she was. However they also had their pride as students admitted to the Royal Academy, and some of them already knew that unless you were an absolute genius, cultivating both mana and aura led to only mediocrity in both. Distracted by the beginning speech of the teacher, Miss Anet, they soon forgot about her. And in the following duel board period, the two warriors neither moved their stone nor stood out in other ways. Hence not many teenagers paid attention to the elf.

In their mind, at best she was a novelty, at worst useless.

A sheep among wolves, or so they would have liked to think.

Nisha gracefully sat down on the old chair, and while she leant back, not a single creak escaped the brittle wood. Simultaneously an icy atmosphere came into being around the elf, elevating her already stunning demeanour into an even higher rank. Most of the students spectating from the sidelines had to lower their eyes instinctively and felt ashamed for laying eyes on her, subconsciously feeling unworthy of the sight.

Even among Weston’s group, if asked right now who the real ‘king’ was, none of them would have doubts about their answer.

Strangely enough, Weston should originally be taller while being seated, having grown up quite a bit already. As a female and additionally an elf, who aged slower than other races, Nisha ought to be half a head shorter at the moment. She looked down on every single existence in the room, sending a shiver down Weston’s back. For the first time since implementing his plan to seize the top position, he felt insecure.

 

Naturally, the baptism via duel board and the prize offered to the class for the [King’s Seat] was no secret among the older students, they each went through it when they were newly admitted first turns. Having heard about it from their older siblings and relatives, Weston belonged to the category who schemed to monopolise the merit points and rise above the rest, laying down the foundation for his future success.

Among the other youths supporting him, buying time between challenges were the sons and daughters of either servant households or families affiliated with his House. Paving the way for him allowed them to enjoy some benefits as well. And while Nisha couldn’t accurately guess why they would help Weston, she didn’t need to know either. Speaking from a position of superiority, she licked her little pink lips, hidden beneath the scarf in anticipation of the feast.

The disconnect with her previous appearance even made the female lecturer open her eyes and stare at the elf, a ripple of power not connected to either mana or energy catching her interest.

And apparently, Alexander was baffled to the extreme as well. Originally he only wanted to piss the nobles off and trouble the elf who had beaten him in a duel for a bit. While he wasn’t resentful for that fact, Nisha had presented herself so far as a pretty friendly individual who generously allowed him to end two rounds as a stalemate instead of pressing her advantage. While she appeared mysterious with the blue scarf hiding half of her face and the golden eyes glimmering brightly, the current ice queen no longer seemed familiar to him.

 

“You do not need to worry; I won’t press for an advantage while you recover your empty mana. I’d much rather know why you are called a royal descendant. As far as I am aware, the king doesn’t have any siblings, and you are not one of the princes.

And much more importantly, if I don’t crush you at your peak, won’t you be unconvinced to have lost to me?”

Revealing her insight into their little scheme and threatening the ringleader in the same breath, the regal elf curled her lips, unseen for anyone but her.

Weston, on the other hand, had his eyes go wide. From a young age, he had always been treated as a treasure by his family and gotten whatever he wanted. As a result, the young noble had almost never suffered a setback, and suddenly a random elf dared to embarrass him in public and reveal his intention. Seething in his rage, he didn’t get to answer while one of his underlings already took over to defend him, in his ignorance unable to perceive the threat represented by the elf.

“What do you know. Big brother Weston is the young master from the Blackburn main branch. As the twenty-third in line to inherit the throne, his status is well among the princes. You can’t easily find others who can claim the same in Thurgau!”

Boasting with the borrowed status of the leader the lackey’s chest swelled with pride, satisfied with his choice to attach himself to Weston’s entourage - unaware that due to each word he uttered, the young master in question got redder and redder in his face. How could this simpleton of a servant not recognise the elf looked down on them and was only taunting them.

 

With her implication that the elf knew he was not one of the kingdom’s princes, she had also implied she met them before, raising her status somewhat. Not every citizen of Leandar had the chance to see the royal family in person. Therefore her family should be wealthy at least. Elves with a connection to the palace were rare, with their high life expectancy all Duke households would recognise these families and their children at least.

Furthermore, her words hit a sore point. King Roderic had no siblings, which should have limited the number of inheritors in the list above him. Due to the long history associated with the traditional dukedoms of the Kingdom, marriages into the royal family happened from time to time. Therefore most of the members belonging to the leading families of these houses had a claim to the throne, however small it might be.

This situation would also carry over to the young generation, and Weston would have had the chance to be a rising talent, praised by all, with few real royals around.

A higher cultivation realm meant a higher life expectancy, yet it also lowered fertility at the same time according to common knowledge. A mighty warrior as the current king, rumoured to have already exceeded the seventh rank, would have treasured every single descendant he had.

Contrary to that, the current king and queen felt blessed with a big family. Aside from the first and second Prince, the birth of the royal twins one and a half decade ago and the little brother only one turn afterwards almost went against the natural order, leading to great celebrations among the populace when the news escaped the palace.

Aside from one or two dirty jokes about the king and his queen told in a tavern, the folk greatly prided themselves on the sharp presence of their rulers compared to other nations.

 

Most importantly, as a skilled mage enrolled in the Royal Academy, Weston would have had a good chance to enter the palace in the future with an official title of a prince, getting nurtured by the king to take over a position of office in the future. Sadly, the first and second prince had already matured into adults and had already split the most important posts among themselves and their men, learning statecraft and preparing the path for their younger siblings. The formerly secure and abundant future had slipped away from him, and the elf’s words pointed where it hurt exactly, questioning his eligibility to name himself among the princes.

And his dumb follower only made things worse when he blindly rebuked her. The elf knew it, the others knew it, only his group insisted on calling black as white.

“Enough! We’ll see whether you can still boast when I defeat you.”

Through his anger speeding up the recovery, the young noble had successfully restored his mental strength. As genius hailed even by the standards of his family, a Duke household, he did not believe the elf had the qualifications to surpass him.

Fortunately, it was only a matter of time until he stepped into the late stage of the third rank, then no one in the first turn would be his equal anymore.

“I’m ready whenever you are. To see why you have such confidence in yourself, I’m sure everyone will be able to learn from you.”

Dishing out a little jab to repay her for the provocation, Weston forced down his anger and smiled at the elf.

Even if she turned out to be as strong as him, he still had a secret trump card.

 

“Likewise, I also think I will benefit from this exchange.”

Fixating the red stone with but thought, Nisha projected iciness into her voice, wanting to set the teenager up before crushing him.

“How about we make this duel even more beneficial.”

Before they could start, Nisha suddenly issued surprising words.

Weston instantly became suspicious upon hearing that, yet he still nodded at her to show that she should go ahead and propose her idea.

“Since we already gamble for the [King’s Seat] and merit points, why not put on our resources as well, that’s the way the competition will function in the future anyway when challengers have to pay for the right to participate.”

On the surface, the elf’s proposition sounded entirely reasonable. Because of the elf's narrowed eyes, the young noble still felt uneasy, but Weston couldn’t deny her words.

“To stake it all, why don’t we both bet the fifty merit points we have, making things more interesting. I think Miss Anet will surely help us act as a judge and transfer the points.”

Dragging their teacher into the bet left Weston with even less of choice. While going back on his promise in front of a crowd would only hurt his prestige, offending a teacher appointed by the Royal Academy was another matter altogether. And if he didn’t bet, wouldn’t a rumour start that the young master of a Dukedom was afraid of a little elf? Gnashing his teeth, he threw his Adventurer’s Card towards Miss Anet, who simply caught this one and the one was thrown over by Nisha shortly afterwards, silently agreeing to oversee the match.

 

“You can go ahead and start. I’ll just witness the power of a royal cousin.”

As long as anyone showed her respect, the dragon would likewise return this courtesy. Unknowingly, Weston attracted a tragedy this time. Projecting his mana into a high pushing force, his approach to winning the matches resembled more or less brute force, not bothering to interact with the formation to save his mental strength.

Surprisingly enough, the young noble possessed fire mana as well, and explosive strength impacted the stone. However, for the spectators, nothing changed aside from an unhappy expression appearing on the king’s face. Originally he planned to trash his opponent quickly, yet the first surge of power completely disappeared when meeting with her resistance.

Tension rose on Weston’s face; he didn’t believe the elf could hold this kind of power for long. And he still had his trump card prepared, although using it under the eyes of a powerful magician like their teacher was risky.

The most anxious person in the room was Alexander. Originally he only wanted to vent some frustration. Now the situation had devolved into this mess. Fixing his eyes on the board, a bead of sweat rolled down his temples.