Bab 1452: Ace yang Menunggu
Dengan ujung pedang yang menancap di leher Lee Roy, hasilnya tak terbantahkan. Pertarungan telah usai. Namun, cara berakhirnya pertarungan mengungkapkan sesuatu yang jauh lebih penting daripada yang disadari kebanyakan orang di kerumunan. Ini bukan kemenangan yang lahir dari pertarungan sengit antara dua petarung, di mana dua petarung saling menekan hingga batas maksimal hingga salah satu akhirnya menyerah. Ini bukan pertarungan berlarut-larut yang mengharuskan para guru turun tangan untuk mencegah cedera serius. Tidak… ini berbeda.
Di sini, seorang petarung telah memegang kendali penuh sehingga mereka dapat menentukan hasil akhir sesuai keinginan mereka sendiri. Mereka dapat memilih cara untuk menang, dan mengakhirinya sejelas ini.Bagi penonton, semua itu tak berarti apa-apa. Yang mereka lihat hanyalah hasilnya, dan mereka pun bersorak riuh, suaranya menggema di seluruh arena. Liam menurunkan pedangnya, senyum lebar tersungging di wajahnya. Jarang sekali kerja kerasnya mendapat pengakuan seperti ini, dan saat ia memandang lautan wajah, baik mahasiswa maupun orang asing, yang bersorak untuknya, perasaan hangat menjalar di dadanya. “Aku tak percaya. Lee Roy benar-benar kalah,” seseorang di tribun tersentak. “Bukankah dia salah satu favorit untuk memenangkan semua ini?” “Yah, mungkin bukan favorit utama,” jawab yang lain, “tapi orang-orang pasti berpikir dia setidaknya bisa mengalahkan salah satu siswa Akademi Pusat. Nah… tidak begitu.” “Ya. Sejujurnya, rasanya kita belum pernah melihat potensi penuh dari sifat unik atau ketertarikan istimewanya. Mungkin lawannya terlalu kuat. Atau mungkin pertandingannya memang buruk sejak awal. Bagaimanapun, tak ada yang bisa mengeluhkan keberuntungan di turnamen seperti ini.” Suara lain menimpali, lebih bersemangat daripada kecewa. “Tetap saja, ini mengubah segalanya. Bukankah ini berarti sebenarnya ada seseorang di luar sana yang bisa menghadapi siswa Akademi Pusat sekarang?” Pikiran itu terus terbayang di benak mereka. Mereka teringat pertandingan Liam dan membandingkannya dengan pertandingan yang dijalani George sebelumnya. Kini setelah para penyihir di antara penonton menyaksikan kekuatan George secara langsung, mereka pun menyadari potensinya. Sihir petir Liam yang cepat dan menentukan dapat memberinya keunggulan untuk menyerang sebelum lawan sempat membalas. Belum dapat dipastikan apakah keduanya akan saling berhadapan. Mereka bahkan mungkin tidak akan bertemu di turnamen ini. Namun, kemungkinannya cukup menggoda untuk membangkitkan imajinasi penonton. “Orang itu…” kata seorang siswa dengan mata terbelalak, “dia pasti senjata rahasia Wilton! Pendekar pedang ajaib, mungkin itu sebabnya mereka berhasil membersihkan dimensi begitu cepat! Ini luar biasa!”
With that match concluded, every academy had now fielded at least one participant. This meant the audience was given their final chance to place their bets, predicting which academy would ultimately claim victory in the event.
The shift in numbers was immediate. All of BIMM’s votes had vanished completely, just as most expected they would. Wilton Academy, which had started with only a modest portion of the wagers, now saw a surge of confidence from the crowd, thirty percent predicting they would win. The remaining seventy percent, however, still belonged to Central Academy.
For most, this was encouraging enough. But for one man, it wasn’t even close to good enough.
Really? Ibarin thought, his jaw tightening until the muscles in his face were taut. His fingers curled so hard around the arms of his seat that the wood creaked faintly beneath his grip. You honestly believe that just because someone swings a sword while flashing a bit of lightning, they could defeat our top student?
His thoughts sharpened with irritation. There’s a reason, there has to be a reason, that fool never came to Central Academy. Only the very best are accepted here. And if he’s not one of us, then he’s not one of the best.
The crowd’s excitement over Safa’s performance was something Ibarin could tolerate. Light magic was difficult to measure in terms of true power, and her claim of having God Eyes only came later. Lee Roy’s loss had its own set of circumstances, he had, after all, been invited to Central Academy before.
But this boy with the eyepatch… Who was he really?
Once the betting closed, all that was left was to watch the next wave of competitors step into the arena. With every academy having sent one fighter already, the second participants were now being called.
From Wilton Academy, the final remaining student had been accepted for the next match, and that student was Raze.
As Liam made his way down to the waiting room to join the others who had already fought, Raze began walking up the steps toward the stage. The two crossed paths in the hall, their footsteps echoing in the narrow space between them.
“You did a good job, Liam,” Raze said, his tone steady but approving.
“Right,” Liam replied with a faint smile. “Now you just need to do yours. Don’t lose.”
When Raze reached the stage, his eyes found his opponent. It was the student known for their unusual trait, the ability to transform into an animal. An interesting gift, but one that, at least on the surface, didn’t seem to lend itself well to actual combat.
As the teachers from the other academies watched the pair prepare, a question began to stir in some of their minds.
Aku tahu banyak orang mengira pendekar pedang ajaib itu adalah jagoan Wilton Academy, begitulah pikiran seseorang, tetapi ketika mereka bertanya kepada guru itu, Redrick, untuk memilih petarung pertamanya… ada keyakinan tertentu dalam ekspresinya ketika ia memilih yang ini.*** **** Untuk informasi terkini mengenai MWS dan karya-karya saya di masa mendatang, silakan ikuti saya di media sosial saya di bawah ini. Instagram: Jksmanga Patreon: jksmanga Ketika berita tentang MVS, MWS, atau seri lainnya keluar, Anda akan dapat melihatnya di sana terlebih dahulu, dan Anda dapat menghubungi saya. Jika saya tidak terlalu sibuk, saya biasanya akan membalas.
Chapter 1453: The Measured Victory
The crowd’s naivety was beginning to fade. One win could be brushed off as luck. Two wins might have hinted that Wilton Academy had a hidden strength they hadn’t shown before. But three victories, three matches in which Wilton students had come out on top against all odds, was impossible to ignore.
Now, with yet another Wilton Academy student stepping onto the stage, the audience’s thoughts had shifted completely. Most of them believed Wilton was going to take this fight as well. The only question lingering in their minds was how. How would this student manage to secure yet another win?
“Let the match… begin!” the announcer called, his voice ringing through the arena.
The opposing student wasted no time. Quick on their feet, they immediately launched an attack, sharp bursts of wind magic cutting through the air toward Raze at high speed.
Good, Raze thought, his eyes narrowing in appraisal. The student’s making the right call. They don’t know what I’m capable of yet, so they’re testing me with a fast, direct strike. Even if it doesn’t land, it’s the best way to gauge my reaction. It seems their academy has been teaching them well.
Just as the wind blades reached striking distance, Raze moved. With a sweep of his arms, he conjured his own wind magic. The two attacks collided midair with a dull whump, and then vanished into nothingness, dispersing harmlessly.
But his opponent didn’t falter. In the same breath, they activated something new. A small, circular item floated above their head, spinning faintly, and from it, a stream of deadly ice spears began launching straight toward Raze in rapid succession.
Seeing this, Raze’s expression shifted slightly. He raised his hands, drawing on the earth beneath him. A thick wall of stone surged upward, intercepting the barrage. The ice spears struck hard, lodging deep into the wall’s surface with a series of dull cracks.
Interesting, Raze mused. That item… it lets them prepare magic circle formations in advance. It’s almost like activating a formation in real-time, but powered by their own ice-attribute mana. Clever, and dangerous.
The crowd reacted in mixed fashion. Some spectators groaned in disapproval at the use of an item, muttering about fairness. Others leaned forward in intrigue, impressed by the quick thinking and adaptability. The student, however, wasn’t concerned with what anyone thought. They were here to win, and they had every intention of doing so.
Chanting again, the student cast their own earth magic. The ground trembled as a jagged fissure ripped through the stone wall Raze had raised, splitting it clean in two. Through the gap, the ice spears kept flying, their pace relentless.
This time, Raze didn’t simply block. He extended both hands, flicking his wrists in swift, precise motions. His own ice magic formed in an instant, razor-sharp shards materializing before him and shooting forward. Each one struck the incoming spears head-on, their tips colliding with pinpoint accuracy, shattering them mid-flight before they could reach him.
When the two attacks collided, they dissolved instantly, fading away into nothing but stray particles of mana. That was when Raze finally began to move forward.
As he advanced, he mirrored whatever his opponent did, matching their magic in both type and intensity. Earth spells, fire spells, ice spells, and wind spells, he conjured them all, replicating the student’s output perfectly.
Step by step, spell by spell, Raze closed the distance between them. Each exchange brought him closer, his measured pace never breaking, his focus unwavering. Then, once he was close enough, he brought both hands together in a single, decisive motion.
A sudden whirlwind burst forth from his palms, slamming into the student’s stomach. The violent gust twisted them upward, spinning them through the air, and then, almost as if the wind itself were alive, it drove them back down, slamming their body into the arena floor with crushing force.
The match was over.
I hope the student managed to get some worthwhile combat experience out of that, Raze thought as he lowered his hands. It was good to see him use whatever he could and think creatively about the situation. I could have ended the fight much earlier, in a dominant fashion… but I could tell how hard you’d worked for this moment. You trained with everything you had, so I wanted to give you the chance to show it to everyone on the stage.
The second Wilton match concluded, but the reaction from the crowd was muted. It wasn’t that the fight had been bad, far from it, but compared to the earlier matches, it lacked spectacle. There was no flashy affinity, no rare trait, no awe-inspiring display like the magic swordsman had shown. It had ended too cleanly, too simply.
Perhaps, after everything they had seen so far, the audience’s expectations had climbed a little too high.
Regardless, the results were undeniable, both Wilton students had won their matches.
The tournament moved on to the next pairing: the second BIMM student versus another academy’s representative. This fight, too, lacked the unique traits or overwhelming abilities that could captivate the audience, but it still showcased a wide variety of magic. The steady back-and-forth, the clash of top-level spells, kept the crowd entertained.
It was evenly matched until the very end, but the BIMM student ultimately claimed victory. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Lee Roy advancing, but another member of their academy. From watching the bout, however, it was clear to most that this fighter was far weaker than Lee Roy.
Finally, the last match of the second round was set to begin. The name called drew the crowd’s attention immediately, Kayzel’s turn had come.
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Chapter 1454: Kayzel’s Mood (Part 1)
Those who had stepped into the colossal coliseum today, whether they were seasoned attendees or newcomers, had already heard the name Kayzel. His reputation wasn’t something whispered about in dark corners or kept under the lock and key of secrecy. Unlike other prodigies whose pasts remained wrapped in mystery, Kayzel’s history was openly displayed for all to see.
It wasn’t hidden. It wasn’t downplayed.
Because he was so open about what he was, and because everyone knew that a spawn of the Grand Magus walked among the students of the Central Academy, there was an unspoken consensus. Even without an official ranking system, people had a strong suspicion, almost a certainty, that Kayzel was the strongest student in the entire academy. There was no board that declared it, no tournament results that proved it beyond doubt, but the belief was there all the same, woven into the murmurs of the crowd.
When Kayzel finally strode out onto the vast stage, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. The low hum of conversation grew into a wave of cheers, applause rolling across the arena like distant thunder. With a calm, almost regal air, he lifted his hands toward the audience, offering a polite, measured wave.
“Oh, the kid’s quite the gentleman, acknowledging the crowd like that,” one spectator remarked, leaning forward with interest.
“Or he’s just unbelievably big-headed,” another scoffed. “I mean, we’ve cheered for every single fighter so far, but he acts like he’s some kind of king or something.”
“Well… considering who he is, I suppose he’s the closest thing we have to an unofficial prince. If the Grand Magus are our leaders, then he’s practically royalty by association,” a third voice chimed in, half-serious.
The comments surrounding Kayzel were a mixed bag, admiration from some, suspicion and resentment from others. His existence wasn’t universally celebrated. For some, the idea of someone like him, someone whose talent and strength so clearly hinted that he could one day ascend to the position of Grand Magus, was unsettling. If he reached that height, it could shift the balance of everything, and not necessarily in their favor.
As for his opponent, she was simply another female student standing opposite him on the grand stage. Kayzel didn’t even bother to recall her name. She wasn’t a stranger to the academy, but she wasn’t a notable figure either. The only real mark she had made was her participation in the group portal expedition earlier in the event. Beyond that, she had remained quiet, almost invisible.
The announcer’s voice boomed, signaling the start of the match.
Much like in previous battles, the student didn’t hesitate. She launched her first attack the moment the signal was given, wind magic, sharp and fast, whipping toward Kayzel in cutting streams. It was a common opening move, one taught across countless academies. There was a good reason for it, it provided a strong, reliable foundation to build upon at the start of a fight, allowing the caster to quickly gauge their opponent’s reaction.
However, before the attack could land, Kayzel moved. He didn’t summon an elaborate spell or conjure a barrier. Instead, he stepped forward, covering both his hands in crackling lightning. The air around his fingers hummed with electricity as he sliced them through the incoming gust.
The moment his lightning-clad hands cut through the wind, the magic dispersed into nothing, shredded into harmless air.
And then… he stopped. Kayzel didn’t retaliate. He didn’t counter with an attack of his own. He simply stood there, relaxed, as though he had all the time in the world.
The girl hesitated at first, her brow furrowing. But when it became clear he was content to wait, frustration began to bubble beneath her calm exterior.
Wind was her primary element. It was her strength, the magic she had relied on for years, so she leaned into it. One after another, she fired off a flurry of quick, slicing blades of wind. Each cut through the air with a sharp hiss, aimed to overwhelm him through sheer speed and precision.
Yet, each time, Kayzel met the attack with the same effortless motion, hands flashing upward, lightning flaring, slicing the gusts apart before they could reach him.
The display was simple, but the control it showed was staggering. He didn’t need complex incantations or overwhelming force. Instead, he relied on precise timing, strength, and absolute mastery over his magic.
Watching him dismantle each spell with such casual precision left more than a few spectators impressed, their eyes widening as the realization hit them, Kayzel wasn’t just powerful, he was in complete control.
They couldn’t help but wonder, why didn’t he simply wait until the wind strikes were close enough before cutting them down? Why waste movement by meeting them early? The thought passed quickly, replaced by a growing tension in the crowd.
The girl, clearly frustrated that none of her previous attacks had landed, decided to escalate. She raised her hands, magic flaring in an instant, and conjured a swirling wind vortex.
As it surged forward, the vortex coiled around Kayzel, the air wrapping around him with incredible force until it took the towering, violent shape of a tornado. From the outside, all that could be seen was a wall of twisting wind, spinning so fast it blurred into a single, destructive funnel.
But inside… inside was chaos. Sharp wind strikes were whipping in every direction, each one capable of slicing through stone, tearing apart anything, or anyone, trapped within. The sound alone was vicious, like hundreds of blades carving through the air.
When the vortex finally lost momentum and began to unravel, all eyes strained to see what was left behind.
Kayzel emerged, his body marked by deep cuts from the relentless strikes, thin trails of blood dripping to the arena floor. The sight drew a collective gasp from the stands. But before the shock could settle, a faint, almost ethereal white glow began to spread over his entire body.
The glow pulsed softly, and before their very eyes, the wounds started closing. Blood stopped flowing, skin knit together, and muscle mended itself with remarkable speed.
“What… what is this? Am I seeing things, or is Kayzel… a Light mage?” one spectator stammered.
“He might not primarily be a Light mage, but he definitely has Light magic in his arsenal. That, there’s no mistaking it, that’s healing magic!”
“And that speed…” another voice chimed in, sounding both awed and unsettled. “It’s almost as impressive as that girl from Wilton. Do you think he has the God Eyes too?”
Speculation buzzed through the crowd like electricity. None of them could see any sign of the God Eyes now, nor had Kayzel shown them openly. Still, the fact that he could wield Light magic at this level was enough to leave an impression. If it had been anyone else, they might have brushed it aside, dismissing him as just another non-combat Light mage.
But this wasn’t just anyone. This was the unofficial son of Idore, one of the Grand Magus whose most prominent and feared attribute was Light magic. That connection made his display all the more significant.
Kayzel didn’t give the murmurs time to fade. Without warning, he flicked his hand and hurled a bolt of lightning straight at his opponent.
The girl reacted fast, slamming her palms toward the ground and summoning a wall of earth to rise up between them. Dirt and stone burst upward, forming a thick barrier to intercept the attack.
But the lightning didn’t behave the way she expected. The bolt halted midair for the briefest moment, then snapped sideways in an unpredictable arc, bypassing the wall entirely and striking her directly.
The moment it connected, electricity surged through her body. She jerked violently, the magic lifting her off the ground, locking her in place as wave after wave of current flowed through her.
Kayzel stood with one hand stretched toward her, his expression unreadable, steadily feeding mana into the lightning. Each crackle and spark held her suspended, unable to move, completely under his control.
And as he advanced toward her, his steps slow and deliberate, his voice carried clearly across the silent arena.
“I suppose just this alone won’t be enough for them to declare the end of the match,” he said calmly. “So… I guess I’ll need to do just a little bit more.”
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Chapter 1455: Kayzel’s Mood (Part 2)
The student was still caught in the relentless grip of Kayzel’s lightning, each arc of energy crashing into her body with precision. This wasn’t just raw power. It carried a specific trait, a deliberate effect molded into the magic itself.
Every spell was different depending on the intent behind it. One could be shaped to travel further, stretching its range across great distances. Another might be altered to create a stronger paralysis effect, locking muscles in place and robbing an opponent of control. Or it could be tuned to deliver pure, destructive force, lightning aimed to strike deep, targeting the very core of the body.
An unskilled mage might struggle to manipulate their magic in such ways, unable to fine-tune the exact outcome they wanted. They might unleash lightning as it came, wild and without distinction. But Kayzel… Kayzel was not one of those mages. His mastery was absolute.
He moved forward with measured steps, advancing slowly across the arena floor. Lightning still arced from his outstretched hand, the constant hum and crackle filling the air. The girl twitched under the unyielding current, her breaths short and uneven. She was desperately trying to move, first her fingers, then her hand, anything to form the gestures needed to cast a spell.
But the moment Kayzel detected the smallest flicker of movement, he adjusted. The lightning flared brighter, its path subtly shifting to strike nerves and joints, locking her body in place once more. Every spark was intentional, every jolt aimed to rob her of that last inch of freedom.
From the stands, murmurs began to rise.
“Hey… isn’t this match already over? She’s so paralyzed from that lightning, I don’t think she can even defend herself anymore. There’s no point in continuing.”
“Maybe they’re waiting to see if she’s hiding something. She hasn’t really taken much actual damage, Kayzel’s been holding back in that regard.”
“Or maybe,” another voice said with a knowing tone, “the Central Academy just wants to put their strength on full display. Let everyone watch their ace dominate.”
In truth, that last guess wasn’t far off. The referees had been instructed not to step in, not yet. This was a showcase. They wanted the audience to witness the overwhelming difference in skill, to see firsthand the commanding presence of Kayzel.
When he finally reached her, Kayzel slowed to a stop, a faint smile touching his lips. He leaned in just enough for his words to be heard by her alone.
“If you surrender now,” he said evenly, “I’ll stop using my magic, and the fight will end. I’ll even adjust the lightning so it no longer affects your ability to speak.”
But those words were a lie. He made no such adjustment. At this distance, in the chaos of the arena, no one else could hear him clearly.
A beat passed, then Kayzel straightened, raising his voice so it carried just far enough to be picked up by some of the spectators.
“I gave you the chance to yield, but it seems you’re determined to keep fighting, still trying to cast a spell!” His tone held a false note of admiration. “I respect your will to keep going… so I’ll keep going as well.”
He lifted both hands now, and the lightning intensified, wrapping around her like a net of raw energy. Each strike pushed her back, the force of the current driving her across the arena floor. Sparks trailed in her wake until, with a final crash, she slammed into the stone wall behind her.
The impact shook dust loose from the surface, the sharp scent of ozone still lingering in the air.
She had been struck harder than she had ever been in her life, the force of Kayzel’s lightning far more punishing than any wind spell could ever be. For most mages, being slammed into a solid wall by that much raw power would have been the end of the fight. Mages weren’t known for their physical resilience, no matter how skilled they were with magic, their bodies were rarely their greatest asset.
And yet… this one was still standing.
Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling from the lingering current, but she refused to collapse.
“I see,” Kayzel said, his voice carrying a faint note of approval. “You don’t give up. I’ll give you that much.”
He raised his hand again, and once more the lightning leapt from his fingertips, wrapping around her body and hoisting her into the air. The crackling bolts danced over her skin, their light flashing across the arena floor. It wasn’t just an exhibition of his raw strength, it was a clear display of his control and endurance.
Not only had he demonstrated his powerful Light magic earlier, but now he was revealing just how deep his mana reserves truly went. From the moment the match began, he hadn’t once broken his lightning spell. Maintaining such a constant, high-output attack without faltering was something very few could manage.
It was also the only reason she had lasted this long. His lightning, while relentless, had been measured, he had chosen its intensity carefully, enough to control and hurt her, but not enough to finish her instantly.
Then, without warning, Kayzel shifted his focus. The lightning flared brighter, sharper, and slammed her straight down into the arena floor. The impact sent a plume of dust billowing into the air.
And just like that… the lightning stopped.
Kayzel released the spell deliberately, knowing that pushing beyond this point would have crossed a line. He’d already made his point, continuing would only risk unnecessary injury, and he knew exactly where to draw that boundary in front of an audience.
As the dust began to settle, the motionless form of his opponent became clear. She had passed out cold, her limbs slack, completely still.
“And we have a winner, from the Central Academy!” the announcer declared, his voice booming through the arena.
The crowd erupted, cheers echoing off the stone walls. They had just witnessed the overwhelming force of Kayzel in action. Everyone knew he hadn’t been truly tested, not by this opponent, but even so, the taste of his power was enough to ignite anticipation for his next fight.
“A mage who clearly specializes in lightning magic… and also has a strong affinity for Light magic,” one spectator said, leaning forward. “That’s something rare. Do you think he might have a unique or special affinity as well?”
Piba and Moze, who had crossed paths with Kayzel briefly before, knew the truth. Yes, he did. And no, he hadn’t shown all of it. Not even close.
With the match concluded, the day’s victors now stood at five. Initially, there had been talk of arranging one of the next bouts as a three-way fight instead of the usual one-on-one. But after what everyone had just witnessed, that idea was swiftly abandoned.
Lee Roy, representing BIMM Academy, wasted no time in pulling aside his student, the one who had barely scraped through their previous match. His advice was blunt, and it carried the weight of experience.
“You should withdraw,” he told them firmly. “No matter who you face next, you’ll be seriously hurt. You barely made it through your last fight. This isn’t worth it.”
The truth was unavoidable. Staying in would risk severe injury, or worse, public humiliation. Their student had already secured a win, and that was enough. Leaving now meant walking away with pride still intact.
The decision was made. With BIMM’s fighter stepping down, the stage was now set.
The final matchups would be a direct clash between Wilton Academy… and the Central Academy.
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Chapter 1456: The Weight of Votes
Because the BIMM student had decided to drop out of the competition, there were now only two matches left to be fought. However, these final rounds carried more weight than any of the others. They were between the two academies that had been clashing with one another from the very beginning of the event, rivals whose presence and rivalry had shaped the entire atmosphere of the tournament.
Even the organizers themselves seemed aware of how important this confrontation was. The energy they put into announcing it made it clear they knew this was the moment most of the audience had been waiting for. What had already been a thrilling spectacle was now building toward something even bigger, even more exhilarating, than anyone had expected.
Wilton Academy had already proven itself to be impressive in more than one aspect, surprising many spectators with the strength and talent of its students. Yet, there still lingered a certain doubt. Perhaps their brilliance in other stages would not translate into this one.
After all, only two students could be selected to represent their side, and there were plenty who assumed Safa, the Light Mage, would not bring much to the battlefield. Few believed she possessed real combat ability, and that suspicion hung in the air, tempering the otherwise overwhelming anticipation.
Due to the height of the excitement, the event coordinators announced a short break. Spectators were given the chance to stretch their legs, head to the bathrooms, and grab food or snacks before the real action began. There was another reason for the pause too, once again, the voting stage had opened. This time, since the competition had narrowed down to only two academies, the organizers offered additional rewards for participation. Extra power stones were up for grabs to those who correctly predicted the outcome.
The crowd’s voices rose into a mixture of laughter, speculation, and bold claims. Everyone wanted to know: Who would emerge as the final victor of the entire event? The rules were clarified. If necessary, three battles could take place. Should each academy win one fight, then the last two fighters remaining would face off in a deciding round.
On the other hand, if both matches were won by the same academy, they would be declared the champions immediately. The system was made that way because no one wanted to see students of the same academy forced into fighting one another for entertainment.
As the betting carried on and coins exchanged hands, there was another topic buzzing in every corner of the arena: the match-ups. Which students would be drawn to face one another first? This decision wouldn’t fall into the hands of the teachers; instead, it was left entirely to chance, making it impossible to predict with certainty.
Meanwhile, in the waiting room, the tension hung thick in the air. Raze exhaled deeply, releasing a heavy sigh that broke the silence.
“I hope you end up going against George, and I get matched with Kayzel,” Raze muttered, his voice flat but firm.
“Oh? Really? And why would you prefer that arrangement?” Yolden asked, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.
“Because I want this entire event finished as quickly as possible,” Raze replied without hesitation. His gaze was sharp, calculating. “From what I’ve observed, Liam should be able to defeat George fairly easily, even with George’s gravitational specialty. It wouldn’t drag on long.”
Raze leaned back slightly before continuing. “As for Kayzel, although I don’t believe you would lose against him if it came to that, Yolden, he’s someone we know nothing about. No information, no data on his real strength. I would prefer if we kept your full abilities hidden for now, rather than revealing everything here.”
“To put it plainly,” Chiba interjected, nodding thoughtfully, “Raze could probably win even against Kayzel using magic alone. But the question is, would Liam really find it that easy to get past gravity magic? I honestly can’t imagine a clear strategy that works against that ability.”
Liam’s lips curled into a confident smirk, and he let out a low chuckle.
“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? If the two of us end up being placed against each other, then everyone will get their answer soon enough.”
The results of the audience vote were finally coming in, and soon enough the numbers had been forwarded to the principals’ booth, as they always were during these stages of the event. When the slips appeared before them, most of the results aligned with what the majority of people had already expected, everyone, that is, except for Ibarin.
“Thirty percent still believe Wilton will come out on top? Even after seeing what Kayzel demonstrated out there?” Ibarin muttered under his breath, his tone sharp with disbelief. “Surely by now they should realize he’s capable of far more than what he has shown. They should already know that he is the son of Idore himself. Do they really think someone like him could possibly lose to anyone?”
“Don’t say that so lightly,” another principal interjected, shaking his head. “We’ve already seen upsets today. Remember Lee Roy? Everyone claimed he had the strength to challenge even a Central Academy student, yet he was defeated before our very eyes. And don’t forget, Wilton Academy has already dominated in two out of the five events so far. With that record, of course people are going to have confidence in them.”
He leaned back, crossing his arms. “If anything, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Wilton’s votes were actually in the lead. The fact that they aren’t might simply come down to Central Academy’s long-standing accolades and reputation. Or perhaps it’s just because Kayzel himself is one of the competitors. If it were any other student, I imagine the results would look very different.”
Wilton Junior seemed about to add his own thoughts, but he froze mid-breath. At that very moment, both he and the others in the booth felt it, the sudden shift in the atmosphere, the mana swirling like unseen currents around them. The energy was sharp, almost oppressive, and they all knew instantly who it belonged to.
They had been attending this grand event for years, long enough to know the familiar presence of their peers. And in all those years, Ibarin had never once displayed his power in such a blatant, heavy-handed manner. He had always maintained a mask of politeness, greeting the other academy heads with courtesy every single year.
But maybe now, with his academy steadily losing match after match, the strain was starting to show. Perhaps this was the first glimpse of his true colors.
“Well,” Ibarin said at last, his voice low and carrying through the crackling mana that surrounded him, “we’ll just have to prove every single one of them wrong. Every person who dared vote against us.”
As he spoke, his form began to blur, his body fading away as if swallowed by the very air.
The atmosphere in the arena shifted again, this time with a new surge of excitement as the announcement came booming out. The next match was ready to begin. The projection screens flared to life, revealing the two names and faces of the competitors who would step into the arena.
On one side stood George, representing Central Academy, widely regarded as one of the most athletic and naturally gifted students specializing in gravitational magic. His reputation had already carried him far, and many in the crowd leaned forward in anticipation of what he would display next.
And on the opposite side, standing tall with unshaken confidence, was Liam.
“I guess it’s about time I show everyone here exactly how you’re supposed to handle this kind of magic,” Liam said, his lips curling into a determined grin as his turn finally arrived.
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