The Return Of The Exiled Villain

After Elira’s elimination, the remaining 4th-year girl from Clementine’s Sword & Magic Academy rose from the bench without wasting any time.

She was a quiet, sharp-eyed fighter named Liora Kane, known more for her precise, almost surgical sword work than for overwhelming power.

The 3rd-year stayed seated for now, clearly being held in reserve a little longer.

Gray remained where he was, watching as Liora stepped onto the elevated platform.

Gloria Academy sent a mid-tier 4th-year first—an aggressive dual-axe user who tried to overwhelm her with raw pressure and continuous swinging arcs.

Liora did not match force with force.

She kept her movements compact, redirected the heavier blows, and waited for the inevitable overcommitment that came when the axe-user tried to finish the exchange quickly.

The opening appeared in the middle of a wide horizontal cut.

Liora stepped inside the arc, cut cleanly across the upper arm and chest in two controlled motions, and triggered the elimination threshold before the second axe could come around.

The crowd reacted with a short surge of applause and commentary about Clementine’s continued efficiency.

Gloria’s remaining count dropped to twenty.

Liora stayed on the platform.

The next opponent was more cautious, a spear-user who tried to keep her at range and grind her down with repeated mid-distance thrusts.

The match stretched longer than the first.

Liora had to work harder to close the distance, absorbing several glancing contacts that tested the platform’s safety thresholds without crossing them.

Fatigue from the earlier pace of the stage began to show in the slightly slower recovery between her steps.

Still, she remained composed.

When the spear-user finally extended too far on a committed lunge, Liora angled past the tip, closed the gap, and ended the match with a precise rising cut that registered cleanly.

Two victories.

Gloria’s numbers fell to nineteen.

The effort of those two matches, however, had taken its toll.

When the third Gloria representative stepped up, a fresh, well-rounded 4th-year with a balanced sword-and-shield style, Liora’s earlier sharpness had dulled just enough.

The exchanges were competitive at first.

She still read the angles well and forced several resets.

But the cumulative strain made her a fraction slower on the recovery, and the shield-user exploited it with patient, accumulating pressure.

A heavy shield bash disrupted her stance at the critical moment; the follow-up sword strike landed with enough controlled force to trigger elimination.

Liora vanished from the platform.

The referee announced the result over the mixed reactions of the crowd. Some praised the earlier efficiency. Others noted that Clementine’s depth was finally thinning.

On the Clementine bench, only one person remained: Gray.

He adjusted the cuff of one sleeve with unhurried fingers, then walked toward the platform without waiting for any further discussion.

The two 4th-year girls had done their work.

Seraph had done hers.

The remaining numbers on Gloria’s side were still significant, but the early attrition had been meaningful.

The referee’s voice carried across the arena as Gray stepped onto the elevated stage.

”Clementine’s Sword & Magic Academy’s next representative: Gray Vireux!”

For a brief moment, the grand arena seemed to hold its breath.

Then the reaction rolled through the stands in a rising wave.

”He’s finally up!”

”Gray Vireux is entering the final stage!”

”After everything he did in the third trial, this is what everyone was waiting for.”

The ordinary spectator sections erupted in a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and leftover awe from the Dominion Siege.

Students from smaller academies leaned forward as one.

Some even stood up entirely.

The same black-robed figure who had held the main stronghold alone, nullified a combined assault, and dismantled the three largest token groups was now standing on the one-versus-one platform under the open attention of the entire kingdom.

In the student blocks, the commentary came fast and overlapping.

”Gloria still has nineteen people left, but does that even matter?”

”He ended the third trial by himself. A one-on-one format is basically his ideal stage.”

”I want to see if anyone can force him to use that black crown again.”

The tone among Gloria Academy’s remaining students was far more restrained.

Several of them exchanged tight glances. A few adjusted their grips on weapons they were not yet holding.

The memory of the third trial was still fresh, especially the image of Gray walking through layered suppression fields and ending a coordinated formation with a single perfect cut.

No one on their side looked eager to be the first to test him in this format.

In the VIP section, the reactions were quieter but more layered.

Nobles who had watched the third trial with growing disbelief now sat up straighter. Conversations that had been flowing freely moments earlier thinned into focused observation.

A few of the more politically minded lords and ladies already seemed to be weighing what another dominant performance would mean for the standing of Clementine’s Sword & Magic Academy, and for Aurora’s influence.

Down on the arena floor, the referee waited only long enough for the initial surge of noise to settle.

”Gloria Academy, send your next representative!”

The crowd’s attention swung toward the Gloria side, waiting to see who would be the first to face him.

The referee’s call for Gloria Academy’s next representative hung in the air for only a few seconds before a familiar figure stepped forward.

It was the same 4th-year who had just eliminated Liora, the disciplined sword-and-shield fighter who had exploited her accumulated fatigue with patient, accumulating pressure.

His name was Dain Harlowe, a solid and well-regarded upper-year student known for reliable defense and the ability to grind out victories against tiring opponents.

He still carried the residual confidence of that recent win as he walked onto the platform opposite Gray.

The crowd reacted at once.

”They’re sending the one who just beat Liora.”

”Dain is sturdy, but this matchup feels completely different.”

”He’s going from a fatigued 4th-year straight into Gray. That’s a brutal jump.”

Dain settled into a measured stance, shield held close and sword angled for both coverage and counterattacks.

He had watched the third trial.

He understood, at least in theory, what the black-robed student in front of him was capable of.

Yet the one-versus-one format and the fact that he was still fresh gave him a narrow thread of resolve.

He had no intention of folding without testing the gap himself.

Gray regarded him with the same calm, almost bored expression he had worn since stepping onto the stage.

He did not draw his rapier or adjust his stance.

He simply stood there with his hands loosely at his sides, black robes still, as if the opponent in front of him had not yet done anything worth acknowledging.

The referee’s staff came down.

”Begin!”

Dain moved first.

Step... fwoomp...

He advanced with controlled steps, shield raised to limit openings, sword ready to stab or cut the moment Gray committed to an action.

The approach was cautious and technically sound, exactly the same kind of entry that had allowed him to outlast Liora.

He tested the distance with a short probe, then a second, trying to force Gray into revealing even a fragment of footwork or timing.

Gray did not move.

The third probe came in a little deeper.

Dain stepped in firmly, using the shield to cover his centerline while the sword thrust toward Gray’s shoulder in a clean, economical line.

Gray’s right hand rose.

It did not blur with exaggerated speed. It did not carry any visible surge of aura or dramatic technique,

It simply traveled the short distance between them and met Dain’s face in an open-palmed slap.

The sound was sharp and obscenely clear in the sudden silence of the platform.

SMACK!

The force behind the motion was so disproportionate to its casual appearance that Dain’s entire body left the ground.

The shield flew from his arm.

The sword tumbled away.

His form described a short, helpless arc through the air before he crashed into the reinforced barrier at the edge of the platform and bounced off it, still airborne, continuing outward until he cleared the arena proper and slammed into the lower safety netting beyond the stage.

The elimination light flared around him in mid-air.

By the time the glow faded, Dain Harlowe was gone, removed from the final stage in a single exchange that had lasted less than two seconds.

For a second, the entire grand arena was silent.

Then the reactions detonated.

”WHAT?!”

”He slapped him out of the arena!”

”One hit! He didn’t even draw his sword!”

”Dain didn’t stand a chance, did you see how cleanly he flew?!”

The spectator sections erupted into a chaotic mixture of shocked laughter, disbelieving shouts, and frantic commentary.

Students who had been leaning forward in anticipation now stood fully upright. Some covered their mouths.

Others simply stared at the empty space where Dain had been.

In the Gloria ranks, the remaining students looked visibly shaken.

The confident posture many of them had tried to maintain after Liora’s elimination cracked at the edges. A few exchanged tight, uncertain glances.

The gap between fighting a tiring Clementine upper-year and facing Gray had just been demonstrated with humiliating clarity.

In the VIP section, the responses were more restrained but no less pointed.

Several nobles sat frozen for a second before low, intense conversation broke out. One lord muttered that the physical difference was absurd.

Another noted that Gray had not bothered with even the smallest visible technique.

Gloria’s expression remained controlled, yet the coldness in her eyes had sharpened. Aurora’s faint smile widened, clearly satisfied by what happened.

The Emperor watched without comment, while the Northern Duchess let out a short, delighted breath of laughter.

The Saintess’s silver eyes rested on Gray with the same quiet evaluative calm as before, though a trace of deeper interest flickered there.

On the platform, Gray lowered his hand as if he had done nothing more noteworthy than brush dust from his sleeve.

He still had not drawn his rapier. He simply turned his gaze toward the Gloria side of the arena and waited.

The referee needed an extra moment to recover his professional tone.

”V-Victory to Gray Vireux of Clementine’s Sword & Magic Academy!”

The announcement only fed the noise in the stands.