"Troy, you’re going to kill him!" Randolph called out nervously from the corner of the room.
"Shut your fucking mouth!" Troy yelled out, pausing his assault to turn to his younger brother. "This is because you’re weak," he spat shooting him a disdainful look. "Not only did you cling onto that Marbury boy, you also shamed our family name by losing to some commoner." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel·fire·net
After delivering his retort, Troy returned to the task at hand, sending another glancing blow to the brow of the almost unconscious Michael.
"Troy... Maybe that’s enough." Peter, the youth holding up Michael advised, sounding rather uncomfortable.
Michael’s cry echoed within the room, startling the three. His bloodied face and pitiful figure was striking, showing an undeniable resolve that one wouldn’t expect for someone in such a state.
Troy tilted his head back and laughed, "See!? He’s not had enough yet."
The guy sent another short blow to the boy’s liver, intending on causing the most amount of pain possible. However, there was no scream that accompanied it. Michael merely hung there, his eyes swollen shut.
"What the hell is this guy made of?" Troy muttered. It appeared that even he was beginning to think that they’d done enough—that the message they’d intended to send had been delivered.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Michael who was like a marionette with his strings cut, suddenly raised his hand—crimson mana pooling at his finger.
"He’s casting a spell, stop him!" Randolph cried, his terror evident.
Troy clicked his tongue in annoyance, "persistent bastard," he spat, sending another punch to Michael’s face.
However, the impact did nothing to stop Michael’s actions. His finger moved with purpose, beginning to draw unfamiliar runes in the air.
"You better cut the funny business..." Troy said, beating him once more. But no matter what he did, it didn’t seem to phase Michael any longer.
"Grab his hand, stop him from drawing runes." He ordered Peter.
The youth moved his arm and reached out for Michael’s hand, but a sudden surge of power shook the room, with the half-conscious boy at the epicenter.
All three teens were thrown back violently, striking the walls of the room hard—knocking the wind out of them.
"Impossible!" Troy cried with disbelief.
Randolph whose concentration had broken, lost control of his sound canceling spell, causing it to dissipate into nothingness. They were now vulnerable.
"Troy, we need to go quickly..." Peter urged, his tone filled with worry.
"But they’ll know we beat him up..." the nervous voice of Randolph spoke up from the corner.
"There’s no time, we need to leave before he finishes casting that spell." Troy replied, his eyes narrowing as he watched the unfamiliar runes begin to shine dangerously.
"What is that spell? I’ve never seen those runes before..." Peter asked, his voice containing a mix of unease and wonder.
His question went unanswered. The trio made the decision to leave, not wanting to see the final product of the spell. However, when they went to open the door, they remembered that it was locked.
"Paige, its us. Open the door." Troy yelled, banging on the door.
But after a few moments, there was no response.
"Shit. That bitch..."
The doors in the academy were reinforced by magic. Without the key, there was no way to open them—unless the caster were to use a magic of a higher tier than the defense. In this case, they would need at least a tier four spell to do so.
Another surge of power shot out from Michael, the magic circle pulsing with a dangerous—almost ancient aura that felt both suffocating and yet awe-inducing. It was as if an almighty deity had descended to the earth.
"Brother... Are we going to die?" Randolph gripped his brother’s arm, his fear palpable.
"I don’t know..." he answered truthfully, his expression unreadable. "Cast your defensive shields, we’re going to have to try weather the storm."
"I don’t want to die!" Randolph cried, his legs wobbling with fear. "I told you not to provoke him..."
But Troy didn’t bother to respond, too focused on casting his best defensive spell to protect them. From the aura of the mana circle—whatever the teen was casting was definitely not weak.
As the runes continued to slowly be completed in the air, the surges of power increased in both strength and frequency. The temperature in the room climbed, until it was almost unbearable.
The walls shook violently as the final rune was drawn, completing the mana circle.
The crimson sigil shined resplendently as it hovered in the air—giving off an ancient aura. It was at this point that Troy and Peter’s face fell, realizing that whatever defense they’d put up was useless against whatever spell this was.
Randolph fell to his knees, losing all hope.
An acrid smell filled the room briefly—evidence that the boy had pissed himself once more. But Troy didn’t have time to spare any attention to his brother.
A grand sight unfolded in front of them. The magic circle expanded to ten times its original size, beginning to rotate clockwise, sucking in all the available mana from the surroundings until it was barren.
Their hastily built shields quickly dissipated, turning into nothingness—leaving them exposed in front of the majestic spell.
They could only watch in shock and awe as a golden sun emerged from the circle—evaporating the sweat on their bodies instantly. Their mouths were dry, and they had to shield their eyes, both from the heat and the light it gave off.
"W-what the hell is that!?"
A caw of a crow filled the room, but it did not seem out of place. The sound resonated in the ears of all present, making them want to prostrate on the ground.
The golden orb was halfway out of the mana circle when the door burst off its hinges. Before anyone could react, the space around the circle and the sun shifted before it disappeared entirely.
Michael who was suspended in the air fell to the ground, his unconscious body not moving in the slightest.
The tall figure of Professor Stark appeared at the threshold of the door, his eyes casting over the scene—his expression cold. Even from a distance, he could see Michael’s terrible state.
"Take those three to the headmaster’s office," the thin man said, his icy voice causing the trio to shudder.
But before the other faculty could take charge of them, a huge explosion shook the castle. The sound of windows shattering and furniture falling to the ground echoed—quickly followed by the screams of surprised students.
A look of shock crept onto Professor Stark’s face, his attention moving to the unconscious Michael.