Chapter 89 — Challenge

Victor’s face had turned an unhealthy shade of red, his hands trembling with barely controlled rage at being called out so directly.

"How dare you speak to us like–"

THUNK.

Damian’s knife flashed through the air and embedded itself into the polished table directly in front of Victor, the blade quivering from the force of impact.

The sharp sound echoed through the suddenly silent chamber.

Victor’s words died in his throat, his eyes going wide as he stared at the knife mere inches from his hand.

"Learn to listen as well, boy."

Damian’s voice was utterly calm, almost conversational, which made it somehow more threatening than if he’d been shouting.

"I wasn’t finished speaking yet. You’ve been running your mouth for the past twenty minutes without interruption. Surely you can extend me the same courtesy for a few seconds."

He leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes fixed on Victor with predatory intensity.

"Now then. Who the fuck do you think you are, exactly? Trying to get my organization banned. What gives you the authority or the guts to even attempt something like that?"

Victor opened his mouth again.

"I’m the vice president of the Clubs Committee, and I have every right to–"

"You have the right to manage club funding and facility usage. You don’t have the authority to ban student organizations without overwhelming evidence of genuine harm to the Academy."

Damian’s tone was factual, cutting through Victor’s bluster.

"And we both know you don’t have that evidence. Because it doesn’t exist. The Mafia hasn’t actually violated any Academy regulations that dozens of other organizations haven’t also broken."

His smile turned sharp and dangerous.

"You’re just mad that commoners finally have someone protecting them from Noble bullshit. That’s your real problem here. Stop being a hypocrite and admit it’s just your wounded pride."

"That’s enough, Damian."

Gareth’s deep voice carried a warning tone as he straightened in his chair.

"You shouldn’t break more rules and resort to violence again. You’re acting like a brute who can’t control himself. Do you not remember the lesson I taught you two months ago?"

The reminder of that brutal beating hung in the air.

Damian turned his gaze to Gareth, and his manic smile widened into something genuinely unsettling.

"Oh, I remember that lesson perfectly. Every single second of it is burned into my memory with absolute clarity."

His voice dropped lower, more intimate.

"And I’m absolutely planning to provide detailed feedback on that lesson before you graduate, Gareth. A very thorough review of your teaching methods. I promise you’ll remember it just as clearly as I do."

The threat was barely veiled.

Several council members shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"You really are just a violent thug with no proper upbringing."

Mara’s voice cut through the tension from where she sat in the corner, her face twisted with spite.

"Even your own master abandoned you without a second thought. But I suppose your behavior explains everything perfectly. Who would actually want such a disciple in the first place? Someone so crude and disrespectful?"

Complete silence fell across the room.

Even Victor stopped moving, sensing he’d just witnessed someone cross a line they shouldn’t have.

Damian’s smile vanished instantly.

His expression went completely cold and empty, all the manic energy draining away to be replaced by something far more dangerous.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

A dark red energy began leaking from Damian’s body, swirling around him like smoke.

It was thick, oppressive, carrying the scent of blood and death.

Gareth’s eyes widened in genuine shock.

Elizabeth sat up straighter, her violet eyes going sharp and focused for the first time since the meeting started.

Arielle’s grey eyes narrowed with recognition and concern.

All three of them were B rank awakeners, experienced enough to recognize what they were seeing.

Slaughter Intent.

The rarest and most dangerous manifestation of killing will that only appeared in those who’d taken countless lives and embraced the act of killing on a fundamental level.

’How does a fifteen-year-old student have Slaughter Intent? What has he been doing? How many things has he killed to develop this?’

The questions raced through their minds as they stared at Damian with new understanding.

This wasn’t just a talented student anymore.

This was something else entirely.

"Mara."

Damian’s voice was low as he opened his mouth.

"You’re a stupid bitch. You always have been. But I thought you at least had enough intelligence to keep your mouth shut about topics you don’t understand."

His Slaughter Intent pulsed stronger, making the air itself feel heavy.

"Everyone in this room knows the real reason my relationship with Professor Blackwood ended. The Imperial families pressured him and he didn’t want his loved ones getting involved in all this."

"That has nothing to do with–"

"It has everything to do with you running your mouth about things that are none of your fucking business!"

Damian’s eyes locked onto her with such intensity that Mara actually flinched backward.

"You want to talk about masters and disciples? Fine. Let’s talk about how your family uses and discards people the moment they’re no longer convenient. About how many servants and subordinates the Kestrel House has abandoned over the years when they became liabilities."

"That’s different–"

"It’s exactly the same. The only difference is I don’t pretend to be honorable while doing it."

Gareth’s voice cut in again, harder this time.

"Mara, be quiet. This isn’t helping anything."

His dark eyes were serious as he looked at his fellow council member.

"My uncle is involved in this situation. I won’t have you insulting him indirectly by misrepresenting what happened."

Mara’s jaw clenched, but she fell silent, her face still twisted with resentment.

Damian took a slow breath and forcibly reined in his Slaughter Intent.

The oppressive atmosphere lightened slightly, though the tension remained thick.

"You know what? I’m done with this pointless conversation."

Damian stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

"Victor Cross. I’m officially challenging you to a ranking combat match in front of the entire Academy today, in the central courtyard."

Victor’s eyes widened, then narrowed with arrogant confidence.

"You’re challenging me? A C rank awakener? You’re still what, D+ rank at best?"

His laugh was genuinely amused.

"I accept, of course. It’ll be satisfying to put you in your place properly. Show everyone that your little victory against first-years means nothing against someone with real experience."

He crossed his arms, his confidence absolute.

"Your Mafia is just a gathering of losers playing at being powerful. Once I defeat you publicly, that pathetic organization will collapse entirely. The commoners will realize they’ve been following someone who can’t actually protect them."

Damian’s smile returned, cold and knowing.

"We’ll see about that."

Suddenly, watches around the table began buzzing with notifications.

Micheal and Adrian both pulled out their devices, their expressions shifting to something bizarre and confused as they read.

"What’s happening?"

Liam asked, noticing their reactions.

"Why are you both getting so many notifications?"

Adrian and Micheal exchanged a glance, their faces showing genuine shock.

"Around thirty-two of the top fifty first-year students just got challenged to ranking matches."

Adrian’s voice was carefully neutral.

"All of them are Nobles."

Silence.

"Who challenged them?"

Liam leaned forward with interest.

Micheal and Adrian both turned their gazes toward Damian simultaneously.

"The Mafia."

The word hung in the air.

Mara let out a derisive laugh from her corner.

"So what? They’ll lose. Those commoners might have gotten lucky with a few scattered victories, but they can’t match Nobles in organized combat. This is just going to embarrass them."

Micheal’s hand tightened around his watch.

Then he spoke, his voice flat and factual.

"They already won. All of them."

Complete silence crashed through the room.

"What?"

Victor’s confident expression faltered.

"The Mafia challenged everyone in the top fifty except the SS-rank talents and a few others."

Micheal continued reading the results.

"Edrin Kael defeated Simon Diserion. Ronan Hale defeated Quin Xander. Lysa Morwen defeated Ruby Fray. Zavier Wells defeated..."

He kept reading, name after name, victory after victory.

Every single Mafia member had won their challenge matches.

Thirty-two Nobles had been systematically removed from the top fifty rankings and replaced by commoners.

In a single coordinated operation that must have been planned for days.

’So... Edrin and the others managed to win. Looks like I didn’t waste my time on them.’

Damian’s smile widened as he watched the shock spread across every face in the council.

"Victor, you were saying something about my Mafia being a gathering of losers?"

His voice was light, almost playful.

"I must have misheard you. Could you repeat that?"

Victor’s face had gone pale, his earlier confidence completely evaporated.

The other council members were staring at their own devices now, confirming the results, reading the detailed reports coming in from across campus.

This wasn’t possible.

Commoners couldn’t defeat Nobles in organized challenges. The resource gap was too large. The training advantages were too significant.

And yet it had just happened. Thirty-two times... Simultaneously.

Elizabeth’s violet eyes were filled with surprise and something else.

’He planned this. He probably coordinated this entire operation to happen just when he came here.

But... how did he manage to make the Mafia members strong enough to bridge the gap with the Nobles?’

Damian pulled his knife from the table with a smooth motion, examining the blade briefly before storing it away.

"I’ll be issuing my formal challenge to you in a few minutes, Victor. Make sure you arrive at the central courtyard on time. Wouldn’t want you to forfeit by absence."

He turned toward Robert, who still stood near the kitchen door.

"Thank you for the excellent food and hospitality, Robert. As always, you’ve been wonderful."

"Of course, Young Sir Damian. It was my pleasure."

Robert actually bowed slightly, treating Damian with more respect than he’d shown any council member in years.

Damian walked toward the exit, his footsteps echoing in the stunned silence.

Just before leaving, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing for all of you to consider while you sit here in your comfortable positions."

His crimson eyes swept across every face.

"The Mafia you’re trying to ban just took control of nearly two-thirds of the first-year top fifty rankings. In one day... without my direct involvement."

He let that sink in.

"Imagine what we would have been able to accomplish if the treatment for commoners was the same. Would it be humanity’s loss or gain?"

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

The council chamber remained frozen in shocked silence for a long moment.

Victor stood at the end of the table, his face pale and his confidence shattered, staring at the door Damian had just walked through.

He’d just agreed to fight someone who’d orchestrated a complete restructuring of the Academy’s power dynamics while eating lunch and making small talk with the butler.

And he was starting to realize he might have made a terrible mistake.

Elizabeth sat at the head of the table, her head bowed as her eyes remained closed.

Her visions were changing...

Blood and fire and Damian standing at the center of it all, unstoppable and terrifying.

’What have we done? What have we all done by pushing him this far?’

But it was too late for regrets.

The pieces were already in motion.

And Damian Valcor was done playing defense.