The students were shocked by Clarissa's unexpected win. Whispering spread fast all over the arena, most of it focused on the weapons she used.
"Did you see that? Clarissa never fights like that!"
"Those weapons... aren't they from Jericho? I think Aiko said something."
"Wow. Jericho's weapons actually work. Who would've thought?"
Shin stayed down on the ground for a moment, stunned and clearly defeated. Slowly, he got up and left the arena, head down, deep in thought. Some students whispered more, saying it felt like Jericho had taken revenge through Clarissa.
Lena stood up quickly and followed Shin. She called to him, trying to cheer him up as they disappeared from the arena.
Jericho, sitting in the crowd, was lost in his own thoughts. His face was tense as he thought hard about everything that had happened.
This wasn't how he planned it at all. He had wanted to make weapons for Shin to use later, for the climax of each arc. But now, he saw how big the butterfly effect really was.
"This is really bad," he whispered, hugging his knees tighter. "If Shin loses hope now... then who's supposed to deal with the real threats later? I can't take them on. That was never the plan. I just wanted him to keep winning so I could sit back and chill. But if he breaks now... then what the hell am I supposed to do?"
Before he could worry more, the announcer shouted the next match:
"Jericho Vaun Ashenwald versus Hilda Drakenveil!"
A wave of surprise rippled through the arena like a shockwave. Gasps echoed, followed by an excited buzz that turned quickly into loud cheering and cruel laughter.
Dozens of students leaned forward in their seats, some pointing, others high-fiving at the announcement.
"Did they say Jericho?! Against Hilda?!"
"This is going to be a massacre."
"He's so dead!"
Even some teachers exchanged glances, curious now.
Jericho blinked. His mouth opened slightly.
"Wait... what?" he said out loud, stunned.
Seris, right next to him, stood and laughed like a noble villain in a play.
"Finally, justice! Crush him, Hilda! Smash him into the ground!"
Jericho slumped back into his seat, eyes wide.
"Surprisingly… I saw that coming."
The air in the arena turned heavy as Jericho stepped onto the field. Across from him stood Hilda Drakenveil, head of the disciplinary committee, heir of dragon blood, and a symbol of quiet power.
Hilda stood calm and expressionless, her white hair flowing behind her, the red armband on her sleeve. Her violet eyes, sharp and reptilian, met Jericho's without emotion.
Jericho kept his arms crossed, eyes low. He looked like he didn't want to be there. He didn't.
Why am I even doing this? he thought bitterly. If I give up now, they get what they want. If I lose horribly, they get even more. And maybe that's what they want most...
It wasn't that he was cowardly; Hilda was literally stronger than any boss in the game. His opponent was basically the strongest human being. What was realistically his chance of winning?
The stands were shaking with the noise of the crowd.
"Crush him, Hilda!"
"Show that creep what justice looks like!"
"Smash him!"
Jericho heard it all, every insult like static in his ears.
Hilda tilted her head slightly, voice flat and focused.
"How annoying. Let's finish this quickly."
The announcer raised a hand.
"Begin!"
Without warning, Hilda raised her arm and fired a blast of wind-infused magic at Jericho. The explosion cracked the arena floor, smoke and dust rising in a burst. She turned around immediately, already walking away.
The crowd erupted.
"Wow! That was fast!"
"She didn't even break a sweat!"
"That's the head of the disciplinary committee for you!"
Hilda let her mind drift as she turned away, confident in the outcome.
Now, I should focus on my planning. Patrol the west dorms. Review the third-year alchemy incident. Handle the first-year dorm complaints before sunset. If I could finish early, then I could... Hm?
Then she heard the gasps.
She paused, stood still, then turned her head.
Smoke was still rising from the broken floor, and beside the blast radius, untouched and wide-eyed, stood Jericho.
He stared at the cracked ground, then looked up at her. Their eyes met and locked for a long, silent moment.
Hilda said nothing. She raised her hand again.
Another blast.
More smoke. More cracks.
But Jericho was no longer there. When the air cleared, he stood again, still unharmed, his expression even more confused than before.
He hadn't even moved consciously, and yet, he had dodged, again.
Hilda didn't show emotion as she raised her hand again.
Another blast. Wind magic cracked the stone where Jericho had just been standing.
Missed.
She narrowed her eyes. A bit interesting.
Two more blasts followed. Fast, sharper. Still, nothing. Jericho stood intact, always a few feet away from the smoking impact zone.
'How?' she thought. 'I am not missing. I'm sure of it.'
She raised her other hand. Fired four blasts in a line. Then a zigzag pattern. Then an overhead arc meant to cover his entire escape zone.
Jericho didn't run. He moved. Sidestepping just before impact. Twisting his torso. Dropping low. He looked like he was glitching out of place.
'Just... What...' Hilda frowned. 'What's with him?'
The crowd shifted from cheering to stunned silence.
"Is he really dodging all of that?"
"And he's doing it without magic! He's actually holding his ground against Hilda..."
"Look at how fast he moves... Since when was he that good?"
Jericho blinked as he landed from a flip he didn't remember choosing.
"Wait... Oh, I get it..."
It took him a while to fully process what was happening. His evasion gear, his speed bonus, the agility from his food buffs, and most importantly, his high luck.
It had all stacked.
"I'm... a dodge machine," he whispered, a grin stretching across his face.
If he could survive this long against her, the strongest named NPC in the academy, maybe he wasn't doomed. Maybe he didn't need to hide forever.
Maybe he could do something.
He reached into his belt and pulled out a weapon: a wooden hammer.
It looked absurd.
Short, thick, with engravings and a slightly chipped handle. But its enchantments glowed faintly.
Evasion +5%
Effect Multiplier x1.5
"I made it for construction," he muttered. "But I was curious about the enchantments, so... I brought it."
He stood, grip tightening.
Another blast flew his way.
He dodged sideways, skirted left, ducked low, then ran forward.
The air warped behind him with every explosion. His coat flapped wildly, dust and stone shooting into the air with each near miss.
But Jericho moved like he was dancing through landmines.
He jumped over a shockwave. Skated across broken stone. Then launched forward.
He swung, but dodged another attack right before touching her, making him miss her completely.
Hilda was safe, but the sheer absurdity of what just happened froze the crowd.
Gasps spread around.
"Did... did he just attack her?!"
"No one gets that close to Hilda!"
"Is this scripted?"
On the stands, Seris dropped her fan.
"That idiot..."
Aiko stood up, wide-eyed.
"No way..."
Marielle adjusted her glasses, murmuring.
"He's dodging Hilda... Him, of everyone... That shouldn't be possible."
Jericho grinned as he landed again, the hammer in hand.
"Okay, okay... I get the grip now."
Hilda's eyes narrowed. She hadn't expected this.
Jericho kept dodging, effortlessly, repeatedly.
With each blast of magic she unleashed, be it wind, force, or even compressed shockwaves, Jericho evaded by a hair's breadth.
Twisting, diving, flipping. His body moved like it was guided by something other than his own will.
'This is becoming ridiculous,' Hilda thought, lips tightening. 'He's mocking me.'
The crowd gasped with every dodge.
"He's still standing?"
"How is he not out of breath?!"
Jericho, for his part, was breathing heavily but grinning.
'I can do this. I can really do this.'
Then, with a sudden push, Jericho rushed forward, closing the distance between them.
Hilda raised her hand, casting another blast, but Jericho was already past it.
He leapt, raised his wooden hammer, and brought it down square on the top of her head.
THUNK.
A loud, wooden bonk echoed through the arena.
Silence.
The entire crowd froze.
Even Jericho stood motionless, blinking.
"What the hell?" someone whispered.
Jericho stared at the hammer in his hands.
Effect Multiplier x1.5.
In construction, he remembered, that meant tapping a nail once had the strength of multiple hits. It helped prevent breaking fragile surfaces. For a house? Perfect.
For a human head?
Hilda stood there, immobile.
Then slowly, she raised her gloved hands to the top of her head.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"That... hurt."
Jericho took a step back.
"Um... But do you feel like passing out or..."
Her eyes locked onto him, then she raised both hands.
Boom.
The arena filled with blinding light and deafening sound.
A shockwave burst out from Hilda, covering the entire battleground in seconds. The explosion was wide, loud, and relentless, crackling with wind and pressure that made the walls tremble.
There was no dodging it.
When the smoke cleared, Jericho stood near the edge of the impact zone, back pressed to a cracked wall.
His coat was scorched at the edges, hair dusty, hammer on the floor beside him. His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused.
He didn't even realize he was standing, his body, reacting purely to his stacked evasion, dodging even energy particles and giving the impression that he was standing on purpose.
He was almost unconscious, but to the others, it was as if he was preparing for another dodge.
The crowd fell into stunned silence.
He looked like he had survived. Like he was ready for more.
The announcer panicked, eyes darting between staff.
"Winner... Hilda Drakenveil!"
The declaration came too fast, too clean. The crowd, confused, clapped hesitantly, then louder, unsure.
Some teachers exchanged confused glances. That blast, a high-level spell, wasn't normally allowed.
Jericho tilted slightly, then slumped to his knees, barely catching himself.
"Ow," he muttered. "... Well... it was worth it."