The moment Alex saw Alden's name plastered in shimmering gold on the Mirage Core Arena's big screen, something inside him clicked—perhaps ego, perhaps pride, or perhaps just pure, unfiltered pettiness.
"Alden von Crestvale... broke my record?!" he muttered, eyes twitching. "I leave for one night to eat lukewarm dumplings and do breathing exercises, and this guy swoops in like some sparkly noble peacock?"
The receptionist nearby flinched at the intensity of his glare.
Without wasting another second, Alex stormed to the booking counter, slapping his EtherPad down with dramatic flair.
"Book me a pod. Same difficulty. Right now."
The technician blinked. "Uh, sir, are you sure—"
"Right. Now."
Moments later, Alex was back in the simulation pod, suit zipped up, hair already sticking from the previous day's sweat. His fists clenched in focus as the loading screen pulsed.
Simulation Initiated. Level 5 – Intermediate Peak. Timer: 60 minutes. Begin.
The battlefield shimmered into existence again, but this time, it felt personal.
"Let's go," Alex growled, eyes burning. "Astral Void Rend—First Form: Void Step!"
He blinked across the battlefield, a blur of motion as he slashed down an abyssal warg. Without giving it a chance to digitally yelp, he pivoted to the next.
"Second Form: Phantom Rend!"
The afterimages danced across the field like ghostly assassins, and monsters collapsed in confused heaps. Alex didn't stop—he was here with a purpose.
"Third Form: Celestial Flow!"
His breathing aligned perfectly, mana surging as he flowed like water, dodging, ducking, and slicing through spectral beasts with graceful precision.
Back in the observation deck, Alden leaned against the glass wall, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
"…He's gotten better. Not noble-level polish, but the raw power… it's there," he mumbled, watching Alex's movements with a hint of admiration.
Then came the big one.
As the Shadow Titan appeared with its usual world-ending stomp, Alex's eyes glinted.
"It's time to take this to the next level."
He inhaled deeply.
"Fourth Form: Bladestorm Mirage!"
The air around him shimmered violently as he became a storm of spinning slashes. His blade became a whirlwind, each movement accompanied by bursts of glowing blue light. The Titan barely had time to raise its mana shield before it was shredded like paper in a hurricane.
Simulation complete. Time: 9 minutes, 28 seconds. New record set.
Alex froze. "...so I just beat it by fourteen seconds?"
He blinked once. Then again.
"…HA! Eat mana dust, Crestvale!" he shouted, fist pumping in triumph.
The staff turned in mild horror.
A slow clap echoed from the observation stairs. Alex turned.
Alden von Crestvale stood there, his noble cloak fluttering (despite no wind) and a smug grin on his face.
"Bravo," Alden said. "I suppose even commoners can shine... occasionally."
Alex smirked. "Careful, Crestvale. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you like me."
Alden rolled his eyes. "As if I'd lower myself to fondness. But I am intrigued."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "What, you here to reclaim your reclaimed record?"
"No. I'm here to challenge you."
"Oh?"
"We both fight simulations—same difficulty. Let's see who finishes first," Alden declared, pointing a finger dramatically.
Alex mock-gasped. "Are you… challenging me to a noble duel? My, my. How scandalous."
A few trainees nearby began to whisper and gather. A match between a street commoner and a noble? This was better than reality TV.
Both entered their pods.
---
ALEX'S SIMULATION
Alex opened with Void Step, blinking across the field with almost instinctual rhythm. He combined Phantom Rend and Celestial Flow, reducing energy drain and adding deceptive movements.
Then he activated Bladestorm Mirage, refined after yesterday's training. His sword became an arc of destruction. One monster tried to flank him—and was promptly sliced in twelve directions.
"Eat blade, pixel scum!"
---
ALDEN'S SIMULATION
Alden moved with sharp, refined elegance. Where Alex was chaotic brilliance, Alden was controlled devastation.
"Sovereign Blade Style: Luminous Requiem – First Movement: Radiant Dusk," he whispered, his blade glowing with golden aura.
A wide crescent slash erased half a dozen enemies in one swing.
"Second Movement: Moonlight Pierce."
He lunged forward, the tip of his sword trailing streaks of silver. The monster it hit exploded in light.
"Third Movement: Stellar Waltz."
He spun like a dancer of death, elegant and horrifyingly efficient.
---
BACK IN REALITY
A countdown appeared on the staff terminal.
Alex: Final Boss – 30% HP Alden: Final Boss – 30% HP
Both were down to the wire.
They both struck at the same moment.
In two pods, digital roars echoed.
Simulation complete. Time: 9 minutes, 19 seconds.
...For both of them.
Outside, the two emerged, dripping in sweat.
"...Did you time that?" Alex asked.
"9:19," Alden replied, deadpan.
They blinked at each other.
"…Draw?"
"…Draw."
Then they both burst out laughing.
Alex leaned against the wall. "You're not bad, Crestvale. Fancy, sure. But not bad."
Alden smirked. "You're reckless, unrefined, and talk too much. But… you fight like hell."
Alex grinned. "Aww, was that a compliment?"
"Don't get used to it."
The two walked out together, a strange but budding camaraderie forming.
"So," Alden said casually, "you're planning on taking the Zenith Academy entrance exam?"
Alex blinked innocently. "Zenith Academy? Wait—you're taking it too?"
Alden looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Of course. I thought it was obvious."
"Right, right," Alex said, hiding his smirk. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Thought you nobles had your own private space academy or something."
Alden chuckled. "So what about you? Got noble blood hiding under all that sarcasm?"
Alex shrugged. "Nah. I'm a hundred percent commoner. Shocking, right?"
Alden stopped. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious."
"…You really don't act like a commoner."
Alex grinned. "Guess I'm just special."
After talking a little more they both decided to take their leave for today and started making their way towards the exit.
As they stood outside the facility under the dimming artificial sky, both catching their breath after the simulation frenzy, Alden glanced at Alex with a rare moment of seriousness.
"Oh, one more thing," Alden said, adjusting his gloves. "Today was my last session here."
Alex blinked. "What? Giving up already?"
Alden scoffed. "Hardly. My father—Duke Crestvale—has decided to personally oversee my training from now on. Apparently, 'public arenas are unfit for a son of Crestvale blood.'"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "So, daddy dearest is stepping in, huh?"
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't phrase it like that."
"No promises."
Alden smirked, then offered his hand again. "Guess that means we'll finish our duel at the Zenith Academy entrance exam."
Alex shook it with a grin. "I'll be waiting, noble boy. Try not to trip over your family honor on the way."
They locked eyes, a spark of rivalry igniting anew—sharper, more focused.
Both turned and walked in opposite directions, steps light but minds already calculating. Their next clash was set.
And neither intended to lose at any cost.