Chapter 11 — The Watchers Begin to Move
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The duel was over.
The echoes of combat faded.
But its ripples were only beginning.
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Cyrus walked calmly through the marble corridors of the East Wing.
Soft beams of late afternoon sun broke through tall arched windows, casting golden patterns on the polished floor.
Students passed by, but none dared approach him.
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> They watch.
They calculate.
They whisper.
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Every glance carried more weight now.
Whispers multiplied like parasites in dark corners.
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"He defeated Alric without magic..."
"No bloodline power… yet so precise."
"The last Aurelius… dangerous."
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But Cyrus ignored them.
His steps remained measured.
His breathing steady.
His mind, calm — yet fully awake.
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> The first seed has been planted.
Now... which snakes will move first?
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Meanwhile — elsewhere.
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Observation Tower: Faculty Council Chambers
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Within a tall isolated tower, wrapped in swirling clouds, five senior instructors gathered around a circular table.
The room pulsed with faint defensive wards, privacy seals active.
Floating projection screens displayed various footage of the duel.
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Instructor Valeon, master of strategy, stroked his beard.
"Untrained… yet perfectly efficient. Every move was reaction, not pre-planned offense. He fights purely to end encounters swiftly."
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Instructor Lysara, mistress of elemental theory, narrowed her eyes.
"And with no sign of external magical influence. His physiology seems… sharpened. Enhanced through extreme training, perhaps?"
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Instructor Morvek, head of political observation, spoke flatly.
"The Aurelius bloodline is officially marked extinct. But this boy... may not carry bloodline magic, yet clearly retains something far more dangerous — the mind of an Aurelius."
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A silence followed.
Each instructor understood what the name Aurelius once meant.
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Finally, Dean Thalric — head of Galactus Academy — spoke with quiet authority.
"Let him continue for now."
"We will observe... but not interfere. The Council of Thrones may take interest soon enough."
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The others nodded.
The storm was coming.
But for now — the game remained patient.
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Elsewhere — A Private Lounge
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Within an exclusive sky-lounge, wrapped in soft velvet light, several young nobles gathered.
Among them —
Selene Drakonis,
Vera Nocturnis,
Liora Valthorne,
and
Shun Mercurius.
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They sipped from crystal goblets as servants refilled drinks.
Floating orbs provided gentle music.
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Selene spoke first, swirling her glass.
"He interests me."
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Liora smiled, her eyes sharp.
"Of course he does. He's unpredictable."
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Vera, soft-spoken as always, added quietly:
"He's dangerous."
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Shun Mercurius, always playful, chuckled:
"Or useful."
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Selene's gaze drifted toward the large projection screen replaying the duel.
Her lips curved faintly.
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"The pieces are moving. Whether pawn or king — we'll see."
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Back to Cyrus
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Night had fallen.
Cyrus sat alone in his dormitory suite.
The city lights of Galactus Academy pulsed outside his wide window like a living organism.
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On his desk, several books lay open.
Academy politics.
Historical conflicts between the Twelve Thrones.
Forbidden Blood Trials records.
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His fingers traced the thin, ancient parchment as his mind absorbed each line.
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> I will understand this world entirely.
Not just its systems... but its hidden breathing.
The undercurrents beneath the smiles.
The rules they don't teach.
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He exhaled softly, leaning back.
His sharp eyes reflected the floating city's neon glow.
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> Sooner or later, they will come.
I must be ready for all of them.
Every move... every threat... every unexpected variable.
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And yet—
for one brief moment—
he allowed himself something rare.
He closed his eyes, letting the soft hum of the academy city soothe him.
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> But for now... I simply breathe.
And live.
Because surviving is not enough.
I want to exist.
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The wind whispered beyond the glass.
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End of Chapter 11