A Dragon's Curiosity

In the face of Weston’s attempt to wrest control to his side again, Nisha did not bother to fight against him. The purpose of her mana stayed the same, fixating the red stone in the middle of the board. After all, she wouldn’t let him off easy.

Leaning back in the old creaking chair and showcasing an incredibly relaxed manner the elf just waited for nature to take its course and let her opponent run out of mana. As long as he wanted to compete in raw strength, Nisha was more than happy to accompany the young lord. Not to mention herself being a small stage higher, the late second rank instead of middle second rank, her extremely formidable battle strength held traces of being a dragon. Any ordinary expert in the peak of the third rank might not beat her, not to mention a teenager like Weston.

Beyond doubt, the central table had now become a stage for the showdown between a dual cultivator elf and a young noble from a prestigious house. All other students waited with bated breaths to see their struggle, yet one of them casually stretched her limbs and totally disregarded the enemy.

To Weston, this was a huge slap in the face, especially in front of a crowd.

As the young man’s face grew increasingly red, the dragon nonchalantly swiped some imaginary dust from her shoulder before she picked up one of the blue stones, flipping it in her palm and sighing in a loud manner.

For the majority of the students, this act presented itself in exactly this way: an act. Having been insulted and challenged by young master Weston personally, now it was time for the elf to return the favour, giving him an even more vicious slap on the face.

In spite of her earlier actions, Miss Anet observed their battle now as well, instead of closing her eyes and just keeping a small thread of spiritual awareness in the general area of the board.

While not enthusiastic, a tiny glimmer of interest sparked in her eyes.

The teacher knew about Weston’s trump card and had seen him use it earlier in the contest, but she didn’t care enough to call him out on it. Whether or not the elf could topple his king position depended solely on herself.

As an elite of the tower, Miss Anet encountered quite a few unfavourable situations herself and still managed to climb to this spot. A single human couldn’t right all wrongs; she simply let it go in the end. And furthermore, she had a sneaking suspicion her intervention wasn’t needed at all anyway.

In a similar manner, a minority in the classroom believed in a notion akin to their teacher without even having voiced it. Putting on an act to humiliate the enemy did not seem like the act an ice queen such as the elf would do.

Rather than that, they would like to believe she truly had the strength to back up her actions and crush any criticism by overpowering it with her might.

Of course, the most shocked person in the room was young master Weston. So far his opponents had been somewhat easy, even when he had to take his time to erode their mana reserves, in case they already touched the border of the second mana rank or already stepped into it.

In fact, he enjoyed toying with them and giving them some hope by allowing the stone to quiver for a while before suddenly crushing them completely.

And now a no-name elf threatened to take away his position as the final winner, instead of paving his way to a promising future. Weston could not accept someone else in this class had a higher degree of cultivation than himself. Even the thought was preposterous.

Nisha showed no signs of actively messing with the board as if a stray thought was fully capable of dominating him, a noble!

“Stop it with the cheap tricks! Do you have no shame?!”

Roaring in a crazed manner, the young noble even forgot their surroundings, greatly startling the spectators. They failed to recognise any signs of trickery, yet young master Weston had been enraged to this degree. Throwing a few suspicious glances towards Miss Anett, they students waited to hear an explanation regarding the cheap trick Weston mentioned.

Sadly their interest ended in a dead corner as their teacher had no intentions to explain and the young master wouldn’t stop at this point to further his accusations. Instead, he madly channelled his mana to leave his body, explosively rushing against the red stone and the elastic force Nisha had applied to it to prevent her opponent's mana to enter. She had learned this trick by playing around with Alexander and restricting his influence about the formation.

To be challenged in such a public manner, Nisha had expected more from her opponent. Aside from raw power, in which he embarrassingly fell short of the elf, Weston used the same approach over and over again, crazily burning through his mana to encroach on her territory. By snorting in a feminine manner, the dragon decided to pressure the young noble as punishment now.

For the audience, who long ago ceased whispering and focused on the duel board, the first exciting development happened. Aside from taunting the other party and acting arrogantly, neither side managed to move the stone! Were these two truly even worse than the mediocre mages gathered around them? In that case, how did Weston Whitehall occupy the King’s Seat for so long? More than one student had a suspicion by now that there was something amiss, thankfully the stone started moving at this moment.

Answering each mad dash of mana aimed to disrupt her control over the rock, Nisha responded in a straightforward manner and pushed the red rock a bit closer to his end zone every time he tried to regain his footing in the current duel.

Which in turn meant the elf chose to toy with Weston, gradually torturing him to death while they had a game in front of the public. The young master wished to vomit a mouthful of blood by now due to the intense anger, yet he could only force himself to hold still. Pulling his prestige down, step by step, he was unsure whether to beg for mercy or threaten her with the power of his family, sadly both paths had only a slim chance of success.

Being thoroughly antagonistic with each other already, Nisha did not mind going the last step and thrash him.

Grinding his teeth to the point where everyone could hear it, Weston had no choice but to stop for now. The spectators might not notice. However, he figured it out right away why the stone moved in his direction. If the dragon could grin any wider, her mouth would split apart at the ends, flexing her magical muscles.

Faced with such an ashaming performance, the young nobleman was left with no way out. With his back against the wall, he didn’t get any angrier. Rather, Weston did not get any angrier. With a grim determination, he stared at the elf with fiery eyes.

“You think you’re all high and mighty right now, aren’t you? But you won’t win, someone like you will never be better than me!”

Despite the obvious signs he was going to lose, Weston refused to admit his inferiority.

His jaw muscles tensed to the point where they were going to snap soon. No one had ever treated him like this. He hated this powerlessness and the disdain he recognised on the elf’s face. Treating him like a loser, it was a first for him.

“That’s just how it is. The winner takes it all, and the result is the only thing that matters. Didn’t you do the same thing in the past? Don’t tell me it is not the same thing only because you are the loser for once.”

Nisha herself was not bothered by his anger. Bully-like behaviour existed in the Wilderness too. Spoiled by their power and the weak surrounding tribes, they grew complacent and lazy. A mistake. Which four keen dragons welcomed. Now they weren’t any predators in the vicinity of the dragon’s den anymore.

At this point, the crowd started murmuring. Instead of fighting, the red gem rested a small distance away from Weston’s end zone. And instead of finishing Nisha only talked to him, with no indication whether or not she was going to finish him. Some whispers speculated whether or not the elf had the strength left to take away the win or if she ran out of mana. The teacher, Miss Anet, neither stopped them nor encouraged them to finish either, further unsettling the overall mood. Especially Weston’s buddies, most of them had pale faces. They knew the temperament of their young master and feared the punishment they would have to endure if he lost and took it out on them.

Contrary to their grim expressions, Weston himself suddenly had a nasty grin on his face.

“You said it, right? The winner takes it all; the loser can’t complain.

Why don’t I take it all then and make you the loser.”

Trembling and struggling, the hard rock in front of the end zone suddenly started moving again.

Previously, whenever this scene happened, the dragon would respond with another push in the noble’s direction. This time around Nisha frowned instead and observed the site with her [Spirit Sight].

Below the fourth rank, none should be able to overpower her. Her peak second mana rank strength allowed her to go toe to toe up to the absolute strongest third rankers, yet currently, she got pushed back. Starting from the nobles' end zone, they soon reached the middle of the board again.

That’s why he wasn’t worried, huh? Bastard.

The dragon instantly figured out why he still had so much confidence in being able to win.

With her ability to observe mana, anyone could figure it out, yet the crowd still clamoured from the sudden turnaround.

Apparently the young noble had been prepared for the duel board competition.

In reality, Nisha almost got it right. Weston as the son of a Duke, the leading family, enjoyed privileges that ordinary members of the branch houses could not obtain. One of the preparations for attending the Royal Academy adorned his body right now. Ever since he decided to pursue the path of a mage, the various members and employees worked hard to ensure their master would not embarrass the name of Whitehall.

Sewn into his robe, gems of various colour and quality shimmered. While it looked to a show of wealth to most, Nisha could see the thin stream of wind mana flowing out of an unusually bright and big yellow gem situated near the neck.

As a measure to prevent bullying from older students, the old Duke spent quite a bit to invite an enchanter and prepare a special robe decorated with small mana gems. Most of them only held reserves of fire mana that Weston injected himself, which he had retrieved earlier between different challengers to keep his mana pool full.

The pair of gems near the top were his trump cards though, filled by a knight belonging to their household.

Now it was Nisha’s turn to furrow her brows. She knew the cause and could deduce somewhat why his strength suddenly skyrocketed.

As a trump card, Weston’s move certainly worked and showed his desire to become the [King’s Seat] owner.

Stopping the strength of a fourth rank mage might be a bit far-fetched, but at least she wouldn’t lose so miserably against a newly promoted rank four. Apparently, the stored mana came from a mid or late stage practitioner.

The noble young master practically burst with malicious glee. While he couldn’t entirely control the energy reserve like his mana pool, the receding red rock was the best indicator to show his strength. It might not be something coming from his power, but being from a noble line should count as his achievement as well. No one forced the elf to be a nobody. If she didn’t irritate him and mock him in front of every student, he might have considered finishing her off quickly, now he wanted her to suffer and controlled the yellow mana gem to give off its power in small doses, replicating the scene where she dared to go against him.

It was a bit of a shame to waste the secret weapon he had received since it was supposed to be of use against older students that wanted to take advantage of him and elevate their fame by crushing a great being like himself instead of against a student of the same year. However the distressed face Nisha would be making was more than enough to pay for a fourth class mana gem worth of power.

At present Weston did not rely on his energy to drive her into a corner, he could relax his tense jaw and the clenched fists he made ever since the damnable elf provoked him. Taking in the lamenting faces of his victims played a large reason why he couldn’t stop flaunting his nobility. A gap the common masses could never hope to bridge. A God-given status was making him unique. A power belonging only to him, allowing him to command even those who were hundreds of times stronger than him.

Weston’s hideous face returned to show only a haughty expression. This trap was more than enough for an elf.

The sweet satisfaction did not come. Weston's carefully prepared plan had no hole, no weak point to allow the elf to turn around the table yet again.

But just like himself, the elf still smiled. Absolute confidence in herself and not afraid to show it. Weston started to doubt himself.