"Caelum. I heard your domain collapsed."
Garrick Thorne’s smile carried just enough condescension to make the concern in his words feel insulting.
"Truly a shame. Losing an opponent of your caliber must have been difficult. Still, I’m glad to see you haven’t let it break you. Life is long. I hope you make the most of what’s left of yours."
He paused, glancing around the Pavilion.
"So, what brings you to Skyvault today?"
Caelum regarded him with an expression caught somewhere between boredom and disdain.
Everyone here already knew what Thorne wanted. There was no point wasting time on pleasantries.
"That’s my business. Not yours."
The corner of Thorne’s mouth twitched before his smile returned.
He gestured toward someone behind him.
Caelum followed the motion.
A familiar woman hovered nearby, her white robes catching the light as she floated above the Pavilion floor. Her elegant features were impossible to mistake.
Isolde Silvermoor.
Their eyes met.
For the briefest moment, something flickered across her face. Regret, perhaps. Or something close to an apology.
Then it disappeared.
Her expression settled back into cool indifference.
Once, she’d looked at him as though he mattered.
That version of her seemed to be gone.
"I came with Isolde," Thorne said, watching her reaction closely. "Didn’t expect to run into you here. Figured I’d say hello."
He glanced at her again.
Nothing.
A quiet satisfaction settled in his chest.
’No feelings left for Caelum.’
Finally.
Isolde was one of the most sought-after support deities in their year. Thorne knew he wasn’t the only one competing for her attention.
But Caelum had once been the biggest obstacle.
Now that he was out of the picture, Thorne’s chances had improved considerably.
Caelum gave a noncommittal nod.
Isolde’s coldness bothered him more than he’d expected.
The girl who had once spoken his name with warmth no longer seemed to exist.
What remained was composed, practical, and completely unmoved.
’Most of what she felt for me was probably tied to my talent anyway.’
"If the greetings are finished," Caelum said, "step aside."
The flatness in his voice irritated Thorne.
"You’re not the genius you used to be, Caelum. You should understand that."
He folded his arms.
"We’re still classmates, so I’ll overlook your attitude for now. But once you’re back on Earth, outside these walls, that kind of behavior is going to get you hurt."
He was rather pleased with himself.
Concerned classmate.
Generous despite their history.
Exactly the sort of performance that might leave a favorable impression on Isolde.
It didn’t.
Isolde’s brow furrowed as she looked at Caelum.
Perhaps remembering how hard she’d once pursued him, she spoke before she could reconsider.
"Caelum. Falling from grace happens to people. What matters is how you carry yourself afterward."
Her voice remained calm, but disappointment was clear.
"Garrick means well. You’re already selling a Forbidden Technique to cover your debts. If you can’t accept good advice when it’s offered, you’re only setting yourself up for something worse."
With every word, her disappointment deepened.
The image of Caelum she’d built in her mind over the past year was slowly falling apart.
She couldn’t help wondering what she’d ever seen in him beyond his talent.
Caelum watched the two of them with something approaching amusement.
’Wasn’t I exactly like this once?’
’Drunk on praise. Convinced my talent made me untouchable.’
His failure had done something he hadn’t expected.
It had given him perspective.
For the first time, he could look at himself from the outside.
"Appreciate the concern," he said mildly. "I’ll think about it."
That answer exhausted whatever patience Isolde had left.
She made a small sound of disapproval, drifted a few steps away, and said nothing more.
Thorne watched her retreat.
A wave of satisfaction passed through him.
If she’d truly given up on Caelum, there was no reason to keep pretending.
The pleasant mask disappeared from his face.
"Caelum."
His voice turned cold.
"If Isolde weren’t standing here, you wouldn’t even have the standing to speak to me directly."
He took a step closer.
"Once we’re both off campus, one word from me is enough to make your life considerably worse than death."
Corwin had been hovering nearby, doing his best to stay out of the conversation.
He couldn’t hold back any longer.
"Garrick, Garrick. We’re all classmates here. There’s no need to let things get so heated..."
"Trash."
Thorne didn’t even bother looking at him properly.
"Get out of my sight."
Corwin’s face went pale.
He knew exactly how most combat deities viewed him. A failed combat deity who had turned himself into a streamer wasn’t someone they considered worth taking seriously.
Still, watching Caelum take this kind of abuse without anyone backing him up felt wrong.
He opened his mouth again.
A hand settled gently on his shoulder.
"This is mine to handle."
Caelum gave him a faint smile.
"Stay out of it."
Corwin blinked.
Then he remembered Solaris.
He remembered how Caelum had turned what should have been a hopeless situation into an advantage.
That memory settled his nerves.
He exhaled.
"Fine."
He stepped back.
Thorne gave him another contemptuous glance.
"Didn’t expect you’d end up running with an oddity like this, Caelum. You’re really regressing, aren’t you?"
He laughed quietly.
"Trash and a weirdo. Perfect pair."
Caelum kept his hands in his pockets.
His expression remained unreadable.
He raised his chin slightly.
"And?"
Thorne’s smile faded.
"What’s your actual point?"
Something greedy flashed in Thorne’s eyes.
He glanced briefly at Isolde before continuing, his tone becoming almost generous.
"You sold a Forbidden Technique two days ago to clear your debt with Solaris. Practical decision. It shows you understand your situation."
He paused.
"You’re an ordinary person now, Caelum. After finals, you’ll leave this Academy for good."
His smile returned.
"So here’s my advice. Hand the technique over to me."
Caelum said nothing.
"Do that, and I’ll personally make sure the rest of your life is comfortable."
Something inside Caelum went very still.
’There it is.’
The real reason.
Using Isolde as an audience had only been a convenient bonus.
Thorne had come for the technique.
And he’d walked in assuming it was already his.
That kind of confidence was almost impressive.
Almost.
’Even if I were giving it away for free, it wouldn’t go to someone like you.’
Caelum’s fists tightened inside his pockets.
’Ninety days.’
’When finals come, every bit of this humiliation gets repaid.’
"When my domain was intact and my retinue was thriving, you never dared say something like this to my face."
His voice remained level, but the anger underneath it was unmistakable.
"The moment I fall, you show up trying to rob me blind."
Caelum stared directly into his eyes.
"I’ve got one question for you."
His expression hardened.
"Who exactly do you think you are?"
The words struck harder than Thorne expected.
Everything that had accumulated over the past few hours seemed to converge at once.
Solaris’s contempt.
The whispered mockery of his classmates.
Isolde’s indifference.
And now this.
Caelum’s failure was his own.
Nobody else had earned the right to judge him for it.
’My failure is mine.’
’What gives any of you the right to sit in judgment of me?’
Thorne froze.
For several seconds, he simply stared.
Then his face drained of color.
A moment later, it flushed red.
’He dared.’
’He actually dared to say that to my face.’
Thorne had misjudged him from the beginning.
Caelum selling the technique to settle his debt had looked like surrender.
To Thorne, it meant Caelum finally understood his new position in the world. A man without a future had no reason to hold onto his pride.
But he’d been wrong.
Caelum’s pride hadn’t disappeared.
It had simply become harder to provoke.
"You want to die?"
Thorne’s voice cracked with barely restrained fury.
His eyes had gone bloodshot.
Something in Caelum’s defiance had brought back the very quality Thorne hated most about him.
That cold certainty.
That feeling that nothing in the world could make him bow.
Caelum smiled.
It wasn’t friendly.
"Try it."
He tilted his head.
"If you’re bold enough to make a move inside these Academy walls, I’ll actually respect you."
The Academy still protected him.
The administration had already publicly confirmed that the Forbidden Technique belonged to him.
More importantly, Caelum genuinely didn’t believe anyone would be foolish enough to attack him here.
Thorne stared at him for a long moment.
Something cold settled into his expression.
"Fine."
He nodded slowly.
"Fine."
"You’d better find somewhere to hide the second finals end. Because I promise you, I’ll make sure you understand exactly what it means to wish you were dead."
"I’ll be ready."
Caelum sounded completely unbothered.
By now, most of Skyvault Pavilion had stopped pretending not to listen.
Students who’d been quietly searching for cards moments ago had abandoned their search entirely. The confrontation had become far more interesting.
When the threats turned explicit, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"He’s out of his mind."
"He’s an ordinary person now. Once he’s off campus, that protection disappears. And Thorne isn’t someone you want to cross."
"Solaris is still circling him too. He’s finished."
"Falling that far, that quickly... nobody adjusts to it overnight."
"Maybe he’ll run to the Star Realm after graduation. At least he’d be safe there."
The whispers eventually reached Isolde.
She sighed softly.
’We’ve known each other for a long time.’
’I’ll intervene later, once Garrick’s temper cools down.’
’Trying to reason with him now will only make things worse.’
With nearly a hundred students watching, Thorne couldn’t push the confrontation any further without losing face.
He gave Caelum one final, burning look.
Then he turned to leave.
A voice suddenly cut through the tension.
"Long time no see, Caelum."
The voice was light and clear, carrying effortlessly across the Pavilion.
Every head turned.
Thorne spun around, ready to confront whoever had interrupted.
Then he saw who it was.
His anger vanished almost immediately, replaced by something far more cautious.
A young man descended through the air, cyan and white robes flowing behind him. His movements were effortless, almost graceful enough to seem casual.
"Caelum. It’s been a while."
"It has, Alaric."
Alaric Sylvaine was the Class Head of Class Two, commanding two thousand Wood Elves.
His intermediate-grade retinue ranked among the strongest forces in their entire cohort, placing him second overall.
Only Soren Kaelis stood above him, though the mysterious first-ranked student had never formally revealed the full extent of his strength.
Alaric’s divine domain measured only eight square kilometers.
Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have been enough to support two thousand intermediate-grade Wood Elves.
His Divine Treasure, Moonwatch Grove, changed that.
The treasure greatly expanded his effective capacity for Wood-attribute retainers, allowing him to field a force that would normally have been beyond the limits of a freshman deity.
The Wood Elves’ long-range abilities gave him a considerable advantage in combat.
At his peak, even Caelum’s original Troll retinue had struggled to match that kind of battlefield control.
Alaric’s arrival drew everyone’s attention.
Isolde’s included.
She’d been quietly evaluating potential combat partners.
With Caelum out of consideration, only two realistic options remained.
Alaric.
And Soren.
Her attention settled firmly on Alaric.
He had more people competing for his attention than Caelum ever had.
Yet he’d publicly stated that he had no intention of forming a divine partnership during his years at the Academy.
His family likely had other plans for him anyway.
Alaric lifted his head.
His calm gaze swept across the Pavilion.
He said little, but the pressure radiating from him was enough to silence the entire crowd.
"I want Caelum’s Forbidden Technique."
The Pavilion fell completely silent.
"Anyone who has a problem with that can come to me first."
His gaze moved across the gathered students.
"Once finals are over, if Caelum chooses to hand the technique to me, I’ll guarantee him a comfortable life for as long as he wants one."
He smiled faintly.
"I’d appreciate everyone’s cooperation."
The words settled over the crowd like a verdict.
One by one, students murmured their agreement.
Even Thorne didn’t dare object openly.
Inside, however, he was seething.
’I did all the work stirring this up, and he just walks in and takes everything.’
’Unbelievable.’
Alaric spared him one brief, dismissive glance.
That was enough.
Thorne shut his mouth.
Alaric turned back toward Caelum.
"So, what do you think?"
Caelum studied him carefully.
If he hadn’t already known Alaric and Thorne had no real relationship, he might have suspected the entire confrontation had been staged.
But Alaric’s intentions were obvious enough.
He was using his reputation as leverage.
By publicly claiming the technique, he’d effectively placed Caelum under his protection for the remainder of the semester.
If Caelum rebuilt his domain, Alaric gained a powerful ally.
If he failed, Alaric received the Forbidden Technique.
Either way, Alaric couldn’t lose.
Caelum couldn’t help but respect the calculation.
"Well played, Alaric."
There was genuine respect in his voice.
"You give me too much credit, Caelum."
Alaric extended his hand.
Caelum shook it.
No contract was necessary.
The agreement was already understood.
Alaric turned and left as smoothly as he’d arrived.
Isolde remained frozen for a moment.
Then, almost as though she’d suddenly remembered something important, she hurried after him.
She clearly intended to exchange contact information before the opportunity disappeared.
Thorne watched her leave, his jaw tightening.
’Caelum’s barely out of the picture, and now Alaric is standing in my way.’
’Can she really not see that I’m the better choice?’