Turin had no choice but to accept Elliot’s challenge.

“The first bout is a battle of fists, between the neophyte Elliot against the 4th year senior Turin for the right over the neophyte Arman,” announced Prof. Novil who presided over the challenges. “Since the space is limited, both contestants agreed to give the other, one hit at a time. The first to fall will be the loser, and the last one standing shall have the right over the neophyte Arman.”

“You can do it Elliot! I believe in you!” Arman cheered beside Cat and I, his red rashes starting to disappear.

“Since you chose the type of challenge, then I should go first right?” Turin sneered at Elliot.

“Be my guest,” the other replied with a smile. “I’ll be the bigger man if you can’t.”

Turin didn’t seem to catch the sarcasm in Elliot’s phrase. He merely snorted at him and pulled his right fist back, ready to knock Elliot out.

“I can’t look!” cried Cat, hiding behind me.

Even Arman covered his face with his dainty hands, and peeked between his long slender fingers. I, on the other hand, kept my eyes on my friend, noting how Elliot stood solidly in front of his opponent, his stomach tucked in, his arms flexed on his sides, his knees slightly bent.

SMACK!

Turin’s fist hit Elliot’s solar plexus, but instead of his opponent falling to the ground, his hit simply bounced off Elliot’s thick layers of fat!

“Woah!!!” the whole dining hall cheered as Elliot stayed in his place, his stomach jiggling.

“I knew you could do it Elliot!” cheered Arman.

“Woah! Do it again! I didn’t get to see!” Cat cried out.

“Now it’s my turn,” Elliot told the dumbfounded Turin whose jaw was left hanging.

Elliot clapped his hands once, pulled his right hand palm out, and smacked the senior straight in the face. A gust of wind even accompanied it.

Senior Turin was sent a foot back.

He wobbled as he landed and almost fell, but pulled himself up with pure tenacity. A trail of blood dripped from his left nostril.

“Y-you call that a-a hit?!” he mocked Elliot. “I-it’s my turn again...”

He aimed at Elliot’s face this time.

Elliot gritted his teeth as his fist landed. I notice that it wasn’t as solid as the first one. Elliot simply shook his head, a red mark appearing on his chubby cheek. He grinned at Turin and closed his fist.

“My turn.”

Turin’s face seem to break into a sweat as he tried to move away from Elliot’s big fist rushing at his round chin.

He was caught in an uppercut and raised a few inches off the ground before he fell unconscious on the floor.

The room went silent, until a roar from the surrounding students filled the hall.

“You did it, Elliot! You did it!” cheered Arman who jumped at our chubby friend.

“Wow, Elliot! I didn’t know you were such a good fighter!” cried Cat, jumping up and down around them.

“That’s the spirit, fat boy!” Aunt May called from behind the food counters as other classmates came to congratulate Elliot.

“Okay, kids, settle down,” Prof. Novil called to us, fixing his glasses. “It’s obvious who the winner in this fight is, so let’s continue with the next challenge.”

The students went back to their seats. I went up front and stood to the professor’s right, while my opponent stood to his left.

“Now, we have Patrick the neophyte challenging Wilson the 4th year senior for the right over the neophyte Cathan,” announced the professor.

I see, this is probably Hank’s mentor, Will.

“What topic would you like to tackle?” the professor asked Wilson.

“Current affairs,” he said with a smug smile.

“Do you accept, neophyte Patrick?”

“Of course,” I replied with a slight nod.

“Then I shall give you five questions. The first to raise their hand will answer, and the first to get three right answers win. Do both parties agree.”

“Yes,” Will quickly answered.

“Of Course,” I said again.

“Then I shall begin.”

The professor cleared his throat and asked the first question.

“The 21st child of Emperor Nigellus Vladimir Indicum IV who was born just a week ago is...”

“A girl,” Will answered, his hand raised up.

“Wrong. Next time, please wait for the question to finish,” said the professor who cleared his throat once more. “As I was saying, the 21st child of Emperor Nigellus Vladimir Indicum IV who was born just last week is the second daughter of which royal concubine?”

Will raised his hand once more, but the professor ignored him.

“Patrick, do you know the answer?”

“The answer is the 1,069th concubine, Ipresa, fourth princess from the East continent and sister of the 959th concubine, Ibareth, who was the first princess of their empire.”’

“Correct,” Prof. Novil said. “But next time, keep your answer short. We don’t need to know all the extra details.”

“Okay, Professor.”

“How do you know all that?” Will suddenly snapped at me. “You are supposed to be a recluse!”

“Even a recluse has access to the Empire’s Daily Newspaper, senior,” I answered back. “I believe you answered with confidence since the headline then was about the 21st imperial child being a girl.”

Senior Will chose to ignore me.

“Next question.”

The professor cleared his throat once more.

“The Kingdom of Postit in the Cynthiana continent, was added to the Empire’s territory last month. What was the name of the king who used to rule this land?”

Will’s hand immediately shot up before I could raise my own.

“Wilson.”

“The king’s name was Silver Fry.”

“Correct,” nodded the professor. “Next question, during the anniversary of the emperor’s 38th year of rule two weeks ago, the three crown princes were asked to bring gifts to their father. What did the third prince bring and what did it symbolize?”

Again, Will’s hand shot up before mine.

“Ohh...” I heard Cat whimper.

“The book was called ‘No Peace In the Emperor’s Eyes’ by the philosopher Sarkazein which shows that the emperor’s work is never done, for he is forever fighting for the empire’s well being.”

“Wrong.”

“What?” Will frowned at the professor.

“Patrick, would you like to answer the question?”

“Of course, professor,” I replied. “The book was entitled ‘No Peace In The Eyes of the Emperor’, by the philosopher Sarkazein1, it symbolizes a tyrant’s thirst for power.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Will laughed at me. “That is not what the book is about!”

“Well, there probably isn’t much copies of the book left, since it was banned all over the empire fifty years ago,” I told him, “but I am positive that the story is about a blood thirsty tyrant who waged war with all nations, just to justify his greed for land and power. That was probably the reason why the third prince was sent into solitary confinement after gifting a copy of the book to the emperor.”

“What are you talking about? He went to a convent to strengthen his spirituality!” Will barked at me.

“Exactly,” I replied.

The prince was actually lucky since he was only confined in the empire’s Holy Temple.

I read that the philosopher Sarkazein was tortured and killed along with his whole family when the book was published. It was a good thing my grandfather got a copy for our library before all the rest were burned.