Chapter 40: Lightning and Wind

The announcement spread through every dormitory before breakfast.

Classes cancelled for one full week.

Students forbidden from leaving their house dorms except for the cafeteria and the designated training grounds.

Repairs and medical work would take priority. No exceptions.

By mid-morning the usual noise of the academy had been replaced by a restless, itchy quiet. No bells. No shouting instructors. Just the distant sound of hammers, the low hum of healing magic from the infirmary wing, and students gathered in small, tight groups, whispering about the attack, about the headmistress turning the sky black, about the man whose upper body had been erased and had somehow lived anyway.

Arthur and Milo sat at a corner table in the Dawn cafeteria. Trays of simple food rested between them — plain rice, soup, a boiled egg. The kitchen staff was short-handed. Most of them were helping move rubble.

Milo still looked shaken, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t slept.

"I still can’t believe they just walked in," Milo muttered, pushing rice around with his fork. "Like, through the front door. And that Professor Tom was working with them the whole time... I actually liked his lessons. He explained mana sensing better than anyone."

"He explained them because he was planning how to use them," Arthur said quietly.

Mimi floated cross-legged upside down above the table, invisible to everyone except Arthur. She was chewing on a piece of stolen bread she had somehow acquired from nowhere, crumbs falling through the air and vanishing before they hit the floor.

"Humans are always like this," she said cheerfully inside Arthur’s head, her voice smug. "One day they’re teaching you mana theory, the next day they’re opening the front door for invaders and stealing ancient keys. Classic human betrayal arc. Very dramatic. Ten out of ten."

Arthur ignored her and kept eating.

A first-year from another table suddenly stood up, almost knocking his chair over, his face red with excitement.

"There’s a fight at the dorm training ground! Julian’s beating five people at once! He’s using real lightning!"

Chairs scraped instantly. Half the cafeteria stood up at once. Boredom, fear, and pent-up energy needed somewhere to go, and a fight was exactly the outlet they wanted. Arthur and Milo exchanged a glance, then followed the flow of students pushing out the doors.

The Dawn training ground was a wide open stone platform behind the dormitory building, usually used for morning exercises. A crowd had already formed around the edges, three rows deep. In the center Julian Ironwood stood with his sword drawn.

His white shirt was damp with sweat. Lightning crackled faintly along the length of his blade, spitting little blue sparks onto the stone. His Grimoire floated open at his side, pages turning by themselves, humming with energy. Five first-years surrounded him, all breathing hard, all already marked with light burns and bruises. One held his wrist. Another was on one knee.

Julian’s voice carried clearly, cold and irritated.

"You watched the academy get attacked. You watched instructors bleed while you hid in your rooms. And now you finally want to get stronger? Good. Then stop complaining and attack together. Like your lives depend on it."

The five students shouted and charged at once. Two from the front, one from behind, two trying to flank.

Julian moved like a storm breaking.

"Too slow!"

He stepped forward — no, vanished — a crackle of [Lightning Step] and he was behind the first boy, the flat of his blade slamming into his back. As the second swung a fire-imbued fist, Julian pivoted, lightning coating his forearm and catching the punch, dispersing it.

"Your formation is trash!"

Within thirty seconds all five were on the ground again, groaning, their training weapons scattered. Julian lowered his sword, lightning still hissing along the edge. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

The crowd murmured. Some in awe, some uneasy.

Then Julian’s eyes swept across the crowd and stopped.

On Arthur.

The platform went quiet.

"Vance."

Everyone turned to look.

"I know you’ve gotten stronger," Julian said, raising his sword and pointing it directly at Arthur. His eyes were sharp, competitive, not hostile. "I felt your wind during the evacuation. You were holding that gate together when the second years panicked. Don’t pretend you’re still the same weakling from the entrance exam."

Milo grabbed Arthur’s sleeve. "Arthur, don’t — he’s been beating everyone all morning —"

Arthur stepped out of the crowd without hesitation, rolling his shoulders once.

"Alright," he said.

Milo whispered, "Are you sure?" but Arthur only gave a small nod and walked onto the stone.

The other students scrambled back to give them space, the circle widening. Mimi zipped down and perched on Arthur’s shoulder, even though no one else could see her.

"Ooh, rival fight! This is good character development!" she chirped in his head.

Julian raised his sword with both hands. Sparks danced along the metal and up his arms. His Grimoire glowed brighter.

"Don’t hold back," Julian said, a grin finally breaking through his serious expression. "I won’t."

He vanished.

A crackle of lightning and he reappeared directly in front of Arthur, blade already descending in a blazing white arc.

Arthur twisted. Wind affinity wrapped around his body — light, sharp, almost invisible. It pushed at his ankles, his waist, yanking him a half-step to the side. The lightning sword cut empty air where his head had been, scorching the stone with a black line.

Julian pressed forward immediately, not giving him a second. Every slash carried a burst of electricity that made the air smell like a storm. Left, right, overhead — Julian’s sword style was relentless, aggressive, built to overwhelm.

"What’s wrong? You only know how to run?"

Arthur kept moving, using the wind to push his body just out of reach. Sparks flew past his face. One clipped his sleeve and left a burn mark.

He wasn’t just dodging. He was watching. The way Julian’s foot turned before a diagonal slash. The way his Grimoire flared a half-second before he channeled more lightning.

Julian raised his sword high with both hands. The lightning coating his entire weapon intensified until the blade looked like a living bolt, humming so loud the front row of students covered their ears.

"Lightning Strike!"

The blade came down with a roar of thunder, too fast to dodge normally. The crowd gasped.

Arthur did not try to block it. Blocking lightning with wind was suicide.

Instead he focused every bit of wind he could control into the tips of his two fingers. The air around his hand distorted, compressed, whistled. All his mana, all his concentration, into a single, invisible point smaller than a needle.

Heart Piercer.

He thrust his hand forward — not at the blade, but at the exact weak point where the lightning blade met the hilt, where the mana flow was thinnest.

The concentrated wind struck like a needle hitting glass.

CRACK!

Julian’s sword stopped dead in the air. The lightning coating it sputtered, fractured, and died with a sharp pop, like a lightbulb bursting. The force didn’t just stop the sword — it traveled up Julian’s arm, rattling his elbow, his shoulder, and forced him back three full steps, his boots skidding on the stone.

Silence held for a long, long second. The only sound was the faint ringing in everyone’s ears.

Julian stared at his own blade. The edge was intact, but the lightning was gone. His Grimoire’s pages were fluttering wildly, as if confused. Then he stared at Arthur, at his outstretched hand, at the faint cut on his own forearm where the wind pressure had grazed him.

Slowly, very slowly, he lowered the sword.

"...I lost," he said. His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. No excuse. No anger. "That was clean. If that had been a real fight, my sword arm would be gone."

He straightened, breathing hard now, and met Arthur’s eyes. That competitive fire was still there, but now there was respect underneath it.

"I’ll defeat you one day," Julian said. "Don’t get comfortable, Vance."

Arthur lowered his hand, feeling the tremor in his fingers from overusing the technique. He gave a small nod.

"I’ll be waiting."

The crowd finally exhaled. Whispers broke out all at once — "Did you see that?" "What was that move?" "Wind beat lightning?"

Milo pushed through the students and slapped Arthur on the back, half laughing, half relieved. "You maniac! You could have warned me you could do that!"

Above the platform Mimi floated on her back, wings spread, looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Not bad, Master. Not bad at all. Though you should have added a cooler pose at the end. For the fans."

Julian sheathed his sword with a sharp click and walked off the training ground without another word, pushing through the crowd. The five students he had been drilling earlier watched him go, then looked at Arthur with a mixture of respect and new determination. One of them picked up his wooden sword again.

The week of cancelled classes had only just begun.

Already, the dorms felt different.