Chapter 222: The Enemy Was Always You

The words hung heavy in the air. But Jax wasn’t done.

"However, that was only the final act. The last domino to fall." He straightened. "What I really want to talk about is the first one."

He took a breath.

"Before you offered your body to me at the ball. Before you schemed your way into my team. Before you plotted to use me against Leon. Before any of that."

His voice steadied.

"There was a moment. A single, quiet moment where you made the decision that destroyed everything."

Silence.

"It was the moment you decided you can’t win alone."

The words landed on her like stones.

"Not against Leon. Not against his mother. And not against your father. You surrendered before the war even began. And every disaster that followed was born from that surrender."

He looked at her with something colder than anger.

"Elira, no name you’ve cursed in the dark has ever actually beaten you. It was you who defeated yourself. It was Elira whispering to Elira that she wasn’t enough. That she couldn’t stand. That she needed someone else to carry the sword meant for her hands."

His jaw tightened.

"That’s the very reason I asked you at the ball to look within yourself and figure out who was truly the cause behind all of it."

He paused.

"But I’m sure even now, you would still blame those names."

Elira’s fingers dug into his coat.

"You know what I actually expected from you tonight? What I wanted when you walked through that door?"

He pointed at the chair he had been sitting in.

"I expected you to walk into this room with confidence. Sit right there in that chair where I was sitting. Look me dead in the eyes. And say six words."

His voice dropped.

"Expose me. I’ll handle it myself."

The room went completely still.

"That’s all it would have taken. Just a woman who had spent one hour alone with her thoughts and come out with one simple understanding. That no secret, no threat, no man sitting in a chair giving countdowns had the power to make her kneel unless she chose to kneel."

His eyes hardened.

"I wanted to see someone who would rather burn everything down or get herself burned in the process than bow her head to another person’s flame."

Then he gestured at her trembling form, still covering herself with his coat.

"But instead, what did I get?"

His disappointment was raw and undisguised.

"I sat there with my eyes closed. Counting. Waiting for a slap. Some rage. Some fire. But neither came. The only sound I heard was your fabric hitting the floor."

He shook his head slowly.

"I am really disappointed in you, Elira. As a teacher of yours. You can leave now. Go find some other pawn. Some other trick."

Jax moved toward the door.

"Professor." Her voice cracked behind him. "Please give me another chance."

Jax didn’t look back. "Another chance? You still don’t get it. I won’t tell anyone. Neither do I want your body. All of this was just a test. So rest assured and go away."

"I know that, but—"

"Fine." Jax stopped. "Then answer me this for the last time. What do you want now?"

He still didn’t turn. But her voice reached him from across the room, and this time it carried something entirely different. Something that tasted like iron and vengeance.

"Switch my place with Seraphina or Lilith in the tournament."

From the corner of his face, Elira caught a smile. Not mocking. Not cruel. Proud.

She knew he understood what it meant. Leon would be in that very bracket.

Jax spoke without revealing anything in his tone. "You can sleep in this room. It’s too late to drop you back, and if you need anything, feel free to use whatever you find here. The clothes belong to Roxana, so something should fit you."

He opened the door. "Rest. We’ll talk later."

And then he was gone.

Elira had a mountain of words trapped inside her throat. But none of them came out.

She just stood there, witnessing the same cold professor. The same insulting one who showed no sympathy when you failed to meet his expectations. The exact same man from their practice sessions.

But this time, things felt different while it was the same.

Meanwhile, Jax searched for Roxana in the hall. She wasn’t there.

His original plan was simple. Send Roxana to sleep in the same room as Elira so she could keep an eye on the vampire princess while freeing the bedroom for himself.

He moved to the only remaining bedroom and pushed the door open.

Roxana was sleeping like a baby. Completely unconscious. Mouth slightly open. Dead to the world.

’Looks like she actually took my words seriously. Was I too harsh? Did she get that scared of me?’

He stared at her peaceful face and sighed. ’Now what? Where should I sleep? Today was a tiring day. That mother and daughter made me surrender completely. I am absolutely drained.’

His eyes considered the bed. ’Should I just throw her out?’

He reconsidered immediately. ’Nah. She’s drunk. Hell knows what she’ll do if I wake her up right now. Not worth the chaos.’

Jax retreated to the hall. Found the sofa. Laid himself down on it.

His feet didn’t fit. They hung off the armrest like two defeated soldiers waving white flags.

And yet, lying there in that ridiculous position, Jax realized something.

He had changed.

A beautiful woman had stripped naked in front of him tonight. Pale skin, perfect curves, everything exposed and vulnerable.

And instead of losing control, instead of giving in to what any man with eyes would have craved, he simply threw his coat over her and showed her the right path.

He didn’t just resist temptation. He defeated his own lust entirely.

And on top of that, he secured a potential student who could create absolute havoc in the tournament and make him victorious. Even if she failed, Jax wouldn’t regret it. He had brought her back to her senses.

’Looks like heaven is confirmed for me.’

A proud, satisfied smile settled on his face.

[Author’s Note: Calm down readers, that’s not character development. That’s the exact same thing that happens to every single man on this planet when there’s nothing left in the tank. Two elven royals, a grandmother and her own daughter in-law, milked this man dry for over ninety minutes. His balls are emptier than a politician’s promises. His lust wasn’t defeated by willpower. It was sucked out of him by those royal vacuum cleaners. This is the same phenomenon that makes a man watch the most degenerate content for hours, finish, and then immediately question the meaning of existence, plan a five year career, clean the entire house, and briefly consider joining a monastery. Post-nut clarity didn’t knock on his door. It kicked it down and renovated the entire apartment. Same energy as when the filthiest hentai hits your soul and suddenly you’re the most philosophical, motivated, morally enlightened version of yourself for exactly forty five minutes before the cycle resets. He’s not enlightened. He’s empty. Give it a day. The degenerate shall return. Or maybe the Author is wrong, maybe our Jax is actually changing.]

With that proud smile still frozen on his face, Jax drifted off to sleep.

Next morning.

Roxana emerged from her room like a corpse that refused to stay dead. One hand rubbed her swollen eyes while the other pressed against her head, fighting a hangover that had clear intentions to kill her.

"Rudiger, have you returned?" she mumbled to the empty air.

She shuffled through the hallway, barely awake, until she stopped dead in front of a particular door. It opened from inside, and there stood Elira wearing one of Roxana’s nightgowns, looking perfectly composed.

Roxana’s brain short-circuited.

Fragments from last night flooded back. Jax grabbing Elira’s hand. The kicked table. The master bedroom. The threat. Every detail she had prayed was a drunken nightmare.

A horrified thought consumed her mind. ’So it wasn’t a dream.’

She instantly reached out for Elira, hands checking her arms, scanning for damage. "Are you alright? Are you hurt somewhere?"

Elira moved back, clearly uncomfortable with the touching and the questions. "I am fine."

Roxana scanned her from head to toe. "Are you sure?"

Without even waiting for an answer, her face hardened. "Where is that professor? I’ve had enough of him. I am going to teach him a lesson."

Elira just stood there, confused by the spectacle.

Roxana placed both hands on Elira’s shoulders and stared at her with painful sincerity. "Look, Princess. I know professor is a bit evil. But he isn’t evil."

Elira’s face twisted with visible cringe. "Let me ask you, are you alright? Because the words coming out of your mouth are making no sense."

Roxana leaned closer. "It may sound stupid, but yeah, Professor Jax has these mood swings. These periods where he completely loses his mind and goes wild. But I will make sure he never bothers you again. And I will make him pay for what he did to you."

She squeezed Elira’s shoulders for emphasis. "Apart from all of that, he is a nice guy. So please, think about it before you take any drastic actions."

Elira had been waiting desperately for even a breath of silence. Just a tiny gap where she could insert the truth. That nothing happened. That this woman had constructed an entire crime from thin air.

And that she was doing the worst job in history of defending that man.

Roxana still wasn’t finished. "Oh, and this is for your own good. If this leaks out, it won’t be good for you or your reputation. So I suggest you keep it hidden."

"Enough." Elira’s voice cut clean through the nonsense.

"Enough of this. I don’t know where you conjured up this ridiculous story, but professor didn’t lay a hand on me. Not once."

Roxana was completely baffled. Her jaw hung open as every theory she had built crumbled to dust.

Elira sighed. "Now, where is the professor? I need to talk to him."

Roxana gathered her scattered senses. "Isn’t he inside the room?"

She peeked past Elira and scanned the bedroom. Empty. The bed clearly used by only one person.

"He left after we had some conversations," Elira said.

"Left? But where would he even..."

Then Roxana spotted two feet sticking up past the armrest of the hallway sofa. Both women moved closer, and with a better angle, the full picture revealed itself.

Jax was sprawled across the sofa in the most undignified position possible. One arm dangling off the edge. Legs hanging over the side. Fast asleep with that same proud smile still frozen on his face.

Roxana turned to Elira with an expression of pure disbelief.

"What the hell is happening? Don’t tell me someone who could blow up this entire house for a bedroom actually kept aside his pride and slept on the sofa."