The messenger could not believe what just happened and how everything progressed into his left cheek feeling like it was on fire and a fabric stained with his saliva covering his mask.
It all felt surreal to him since the last thing he expected when meeting Simon, was for Simon to have the audacity to lay his hands on him.
Does he have a death wish?
The messenger could not help but wonder.
"This is my response to the invitation of the faction leaders."
The messenger looked up after hearing Simon’s voice, but he couldn’t fully see Simon cause of the fabric on his face.
"The next time the faction leaders want to send you or another messenger to me, the messenger should have proof that he’s actually from the faction leaders or a faction leader"
"Who knows if you’re actually from the three faction leaders and not some member of the three gangs or a random Initiate that just hates me."
Simon shook his head slightly as he looked at the messenger.
"If the faction leaders want to see me, they’ll have to see me in a public place like the school cafeteria. I am not going to meet them in a place of their choosing."
If Simon chose to follow the messenger, then he would be a fool... an overconfident fool to be precise.
The chances of the messenger leading him to a trap was very high, and even though he was very confident in himself, he was not omnipotent and he was not a fool.
The factions had shown that they could kill without getting punished, and despite everything he had done, despite the fame and reputation he had, he had not forgotten that he was still a slave.
He had no backer in the academy or the clan.
He was very certain that if the factions were able to successfully kill him, the academy would not punish the factions at all.
The factions definitely had many members who were stronger than him, so he had to be careful.
As for the messenger, the torn fabric slid down his mask and fell on the floor, exposing the disbelief in his eyes as he stared at Simon.
Simon raised a brow when he saw that the messenger was not responding.
"What are you still doing here? Be a good dog and give my message to your masters."
The messenger did not still respond, and Simon shook his head and turned to walk away.
He didn’t have the time to waste on this messenger.
"You’ll regret this, slave."
The messenger’s words drifted into Simon’s ears, but he didn’t bother stopping.
The messenger stared at Simon as he left, but he chose not to say anything.
However, his eyes flashed with hatred and viciousness as he looked at Simon.
He stood, wiped the saliva from his mask with the back of his sleeve, then he turned and walked in the opposite direction of Simon, his mind churning with a thousand ways of getting his revenge on Simon.
As for Simon, he was thinking about what decision he should take.
The class on politics was currently going on, and it was a compulsory class. However, Simon was wondering if he had any reason to attend this class.
He already had some knowledge on the politics of the demon realm, and he was planning on frequenting the library to expand his knowledge on everything he could.
It did not take him long to come to a decision.
’I’ll meet up with Instructor Ormon and see how his training is going to be like.’
Gaining knowledge on the politics of the demon realm was important, but it could not help with his current situation.
He needed to get stronger, and since learning the fist path would make him stronger, he decided to learn the fist path.
He sent a message to Instructor Ormon, and to his slight surprise, he received a response.
He got the location of the training ground, and after recalling the map of the academy, he walked to the location.
On his way to the training ground, a strange scene began to occur around him.
No matter where he passed, Initiates would begin to look at him and whisper or even speak out loud as he walked.
He heard their conversations, their whispers, and he also understood their gazes.
Their conversations and gazes were different and complex, but he understood what their reactions and what they were all talking about.
The news that he was the one behind the embarrassing states of the nine Initiates had spread like wildfire.
His fame and reputation had shot through the roof, and Simon was a bit surprised by how fast it had spread.
Although he was surprised by this, he didn’t think too much of it.
The more fame and reputation he had, the more danger he was in. However, he needed it to accomplish his main goal of getting information about the corpse of the Herald.
He completely ignored the whispers, words, and gazes of those he passed.
Some minutes later, he arrived at the training grounds.
The moment Simon stepped into the area, he noticed that it wasn’t empty.
Two Initiates were already there.
They were facing each other at the center of the wide, open ground, their stances low and steady. There were no weapons in their hands, no external tools, just their bodies.
A duel.
Simon slowed his steps slightly as his gaze sharpened.
One of them moved first.
A sharp step forward, followed by a straight punch aimed at the other’s chest.
Clean.
Direct.
And efficient.
The second Initiate reacted instantly, shifting to the side and raising an arm to deflect the strike. The motion was smooth, practiced. The punch was redirected, and in the same breath, a counterattack followed.
A knee aimed at the ribs.
The exchange was fast.
Faster than what most ordinary eyes would comfortably follow.
Blows were thrown and avoided in quick succession... punches, elbows, short kicks. Each movement flowed into the next, forming a continuous chain of action.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
Simon stood at the edge of the training ground, watching silently.
His eyes didn’t miss anything.
The rhythm.
That was the first thing he noticed.
Everything was connected.
Every strike led naturally into the next. Every defense transitioned smoothly into a counter. It was like watching a stream of water... constant, uninterrupted.
Predictable.
Not in the sense that their techniques were weak, but in the way their movements followed a pattern.
A flow.
Simon’s gaze deepened slightly.
If one paid enough attention...
The next move could be anticipated.
The first Initiate pressed forward again, increasing the intensity of his attacks. His punches became faster, heavier, forcing the second Initiate to retreat.
Step after step.
Guard tightening.
Breathing sharpening.
Then...
An opening appeared.
A brief one.
But it was there.
The second Initiate reacted immediately, twisting his body and launching a counter punch aimed at the jaw.
It should have connected cleanly.
But at the last moment...
The first Initiate tilted his head just enough to avoid it, the punch grazing past his face.
In that same instant, his body shifted.
A strike followed.
A solid hit landed on the second Initiate’s torso, forcing him back.
The duel ended shortly after that.
Not with a dramatic finish, but with a clear outcome.
One stood steady.
The other took a few steps back before stabilizing himself.
Silence followed.
Simon remained where he was, his expression calm, but his mind active.
They were skilled.
No doubt about that.
Their control, their speed, their execution... it was all solid.
But...
It was still within expectation.
Their movements made sense.
Too much sense.
Everything happened when it should.
Nothing was out of place.
Nothing was... wrong.
Simon exhaled slowly.
"Strange.... Is this it?"
His thoughts trailed off.
Then...
"You’re finally here."
The voice came from behind him.
Too close.
And without any warning.
Simon’s eyes sharpened instantly as he turned.