Chapter 1460: The Final Challenger
The first match between Wilton and Central Academy had ended, and the result was clear. Liam’s victory reverberated throughout the arena. For Lee Roy, sitting among the crowd, relief washed over him. Liam winning had taken some of the sting out of his own earlier defeat. At least now, people would whisper, maybe Lee Roy would have beaten George too, if he’d faced him instead.
And who knew? Perhaps he had simply drawn the short straw, ending up against the strongest fighter in the entire event. Still, the tournament wasn’t over. One more match remained, and if Central Academy managed to win it, the crowd would be treated to a final clash, a deciding battle that would determine everything.
Guests in the stands stirred with excitement, voices rising in speculation. Many assumed the voting stage would open once more. For the audience, casting their guesses on the next winner had become one of the most thrilling parts of the event. Yet this time, no screens flickered to life. No ballots appeared. No voting was cast.
“Could it be?” one guest whispered to another. “Is Central Academy worried? Did they stop the voting because they’re afraid everyone would side with Wilton?”
“Maybe,” another replied, leaning forward with interest. “But wouldn’t it be better to prove us wrong? Imagine if they let us all bet against them, and then Central Academy still pulled out the win. That would silence every doubt.”
The crowd speculated endlessly, but none of them knew the truth. The reason lay with Ibarin himself. After tense conversations with the other principals, he had given the order: no voting this round. He had his reasons.
Deep down, he feared what the results might show. If the numbers revealed Wilton as the overwhelming favorite, could he restrain himself? Could he sit in that booth, calm and composed, while the academy he led was overshadowed, diminished, humiliated? His carefully crafted image, the position of power he had fought tooth and nail to maintain, he couldn’t risk it crumbling before his eyes.
It had been a very long time since Ibarin had felt such raw, destabilizing emotions. Perhaps that was why he found them so difficult to control.
Still, the spectators continued their discussions. Many began to conclude that the swordsman Wilton had kept in reserve must be their hidden ace, the secret weapon they had been waiting to unleash. Surely, he would be the one to challenge Kayzel. And when that happened, the two would face off in a final clash, the duel of the tournament.
Meanwhile, George was recovering. After a brief round of healing, he was finally awake again. He remembered everything, every humiliating moment of the battle. Fortunately, the damage wasn’t critical. His body had been battered, but the wounds were mostly external. No internal damage, no lingering injuries.
Yet that fact made it worse. The attacks he’d suffered hadn’t even been devastating spells. They had been physical, simple blows amplified by Qi. For George, this was the most bitter pill to swallow.
He had to walk back into the waiting room, head lowered, body aching, the weight of failure pressing on him with every step. He knew what awaited him. Disappointment. Scorn. The eyes of his fellow students filled with judgment. And when he pushed open the door, he was not disappointed.
“You embarrassed us, George!” Bones snapped the moment he entered. His voice was sharp with anger. “That guy wasn’t even someone famous. No one even knows his name! What happened out there? Was his wind magic really that strong?”
George’s lips tightened. He wanted to respond, but he didn’t have an answer. He didn’t understand it himself. None of his magic had worked. His gravitational field had been severed as if it were nothing. Could mere wind magic really cut through gravity? And even if it could, how had Liam endured the crushing weight in the first place?
No matter what excuse he might give, it would sound hollow. It would sound like weakness.
“My opponent was strong. Far stronger than me,” George finally admitted, his voice low but steady. “Did it ever cross your minds, after everything we’ve seen here, that maybe there are people out there better than us?”
Silence followed. Nannan lowered her gaze, recalling the sting of her own loss against Safa. She thought of how easily she might have been humiliated had they fought longer. She remembered their failure in the portal expedition, how everything they had touched seemed to slip away. Maybe George was right. Maybe they had overestimated themselves.
But Kayzel was not so forgiving. He sneered, stepping forward.
“Stupid, stupid!” Kayzel snapped. “You didn’t work hard enough. I thought you were different, George. I thought you were one of the greats. That you were destined to stand at my side. With your gravitational magic, you could have become one of the next Grand Magus. But after this? After losing here? It means you just weren’t up to it.”
George clenched his fists. Was this really all it took, one loss, one stumble, for Kayzel to look down on him? He wanted to shout, to explain, to remind them all that he had done his best. But he swallowed it. There was no point.
Instead, he raised his head and spoke quietly but firmly.
“Kayzel, didn’t you already mess with two of the Wilton students earlier? The ones you tried to test? I think those might have been the weakest of their group. Call me whatever you want. Say I’m a failure. But answer me this, what will you do, if you lose this fight?”
His words cut through the air like a blade. For a moment, silence reigned. Kayzel’s eyes narrowed, and his lips curved into a cold smile.
“That’s something you’ll never find out,” Kayzel said flatly. Without another glance, he turned and strode toward the walkway as the display screen flickered, calling for the final participant.
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Chapter 1461: When Lightning Meets Silence
It was possibly the last match of the day, or at least that was what all of the Wilton students and teachers believed as they sat together in the waiting room. After everything they had witnessed, after watching Raze fight and seemingly lose before, they could not picture anyone defeating him again. Even if the opponent was Kayzel, the son of one of the most powerful Grand Magus in existence, their faith in Raze remained unshaken.
Just before stepping out, Raze paused and turned back to face them all. His expression was calm, his white hair catching the glow of the lights in the room. His voice, though soft, carried an edge that made every word heavy.
“I need you all to be ready for what might come,” Raze said. “I’ll do my best to make sure none of the Wilton students or teachers get dragged into this. As for those from Pagna, it may be far more difficult to leave quietly, there are too many eyes watching us here. But if an opportunity arises, I won’t let it slip. Be prepared.”
The Pagna group nodded solemnly. They understood what he meant without him needing to explain it. Raze suspected that Ibarin, the principal of Central Academy, was already reaching his breaking point. If Raze defeated Kayzel in front of everyone, it might finally push Ibarin into acting. If not, then on the final day of the tournament, Raze was certain Ibarin’s self-control would crack.
The teachers shifted uncomfortably, swallowing hard. They still didn’t know the full truth of why Raze and the Pagna students were here, disguised and hidden among Wilton’s delegation. They had only fragments, whispers of a mission far larger than a school tournament. The uncertainty left them uneasy.
For Yolden and Chiba, the weight was different. The two girls looked at Raze with a quiet heaviness in their eyes. They couldn’t help but wonder, once he accomplished his goal, would they ever see him again? Or was he destined to disappear from their lives the moment his mission ended? And beneath that worry lay something else, something sharper. A fear that whatever Raze was planning was far too dangerous, something that could very well cost him his life.
When Raze finally stepped out onto the stage, the reaction from the audience was noticeably different compared to Liam’s match. There were cheers, of course, but they were far less enthusiastic. Liam’s previous battle had been thrilling, and the crowd had come to expect the same level of spectacle. For this one, most of them believed the outcome was already decided. Kayzel was expected to win, and once he did, the true final, the clash they had all been waiting for, would begin.
In the stands, conversations buzzed.
“So, do you think we’ll finally get to see Kayzel unleash his full potential in this match?” one BIMM student asked, standing beside Lee Roy.
“I think we definitely will,” Lee Roy replied, his arms crossed. His tone was thoughtful. “But the way you phrased that makes it sound like you’ve already written Wilton off as the loser.”
“Hey, hey, don’t get me wrong,” the student said quickly, raising his hands. “I’m not a hater. But come on, it’s Kayzel. Everyone knows his strength. If it were that mysterious magic swordsman fighting instead, then sure, maybe Wilton would have a good chance. They’ve proven themselves enough to make me believe that much. But Raze? Against Kayzel?” He shook his head. “I don’t see it.”
Lee Roy’s gaze lingered on the screen that displayed Raze’s image, the white-haired boy standing silently at the edge of the stage. His mind wandered back to the chaos outside the arena, back when the barrier had been tested. He remembered what he had seen then.
“Weren’t you there when that commotion happened?” Lee Roy asked quietly. “Did you really look? All of them, the Pagna students, the Wilton fighters, they were protecting him. Not the other way around. And he didn’t hesitate to step forward, even through danger. If you ask me, it’s obvious. They see him as their leader. And there must be a reason for that.”
The student frowned, but said nothing.
On stage, Kayzel stood tall, his eyes locked onto Raze. A wide smile stretched across his face as he extended his arms outward in a dramatic gesture.
“You made it!” Kayzel called. His voice carried effortlessly, infused with confidence and charisma. “Finally, I get to face you myself! I know things have been going well for Wilton, and I’ll admit it, you’ve all worked incredibly hard to get this far. But unfortunately for you, it all ends here. I won’t be going easy on you.”
The crowd roared at his words, feeding off his bravado.
Raze, however, didn’t respond. He stood still, his eyes calm, his face expressionless. He didn’t care for Kayzel’s theatrics. He didn’t care about his ego, his background, or his feelings. This was just another fight. One that Raze would win.
The silence stretched, and Kayzel’s smile faltered ever so slightly. The announcer’s voice boomed.
“And the match begins!”
Kayzel wasted no time. Agitated by Raze’s indifference, he decided to strike first. Sparks of lightning burst from his fingertips, splitting into multiple bolts that crackled and hissed as they tore through the air, all converging toward Raze.
The attack was fast, faster than most could follow. But Raze did not move.
Just before the lightning struck, he raised one hand. His palm glowed faintly as strands of lightning coiled around his arm. He rotated his wrist in a smooth, circular motion, and the crackling bolts bent unnaturally. Instead of striking his body, the magic twisted and gathered, funneling around his forearm.
The crowd gasped. Even Kayzel’s eyes widened slightly. He continued casting, forcing more lightning outward, but it didn’t matter. Every bolt curved, inexorably drawn to Raze’s arm.
“I see,” Raze said at last, his voice steady and cold. “You thought you could deal with me the same way you dealt with the last one.”
With a sharp swing of his arm, he redirected the energy. The lightning slammed into the ground beside him, exploding in a shower of sparks. Dust and smoke billowed upward, but Raze stood untouched.
Kayzel’s jaw tightened.
“Try something better,” Raze said, his eyes narrowing. “Because if you don’t… this match will end very quickly.”
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Chapter 1462: No Different
When Liam had unleashed his lightning spell against George, he had accomplished something far more impressive than most realized in the moment. The clash had been so intense, so filled with spectacle, that many in the audience overlooked it entirely.
The very first spell Liam had cast had been a lightning strike through his wand. Yet with flawless precision, he had seized control of the energy mid-flight, coiling the lightning around his hand before redirecting it harmlessly into the ground.
To the untrained eye, it might have looked like a simple parry. But for anyone who truly understood magic, the feat was staggering. In order to redirect an opponent’s spell, one needed to possess mana greater than or at least equal to the caster’s, and on top of that, an even higher level of control. To wrest control of lightning in midair was no easy task, it was like catching a live serpent of energy and bending it to your will.
Raze had done the same thing. But he hadn’t redirected just one bolt. He had nullified several at once, and not from George, but from Kayzel himself, whose magic was leagues above George’s in both raw strength and refinement.
Most of the crowd missed the implications, too dazzled by the exchange to notice. But in the upper decks, where the principals and teachers watched with sharpened eyes, there were murmurs. They understood. In that single opening sequence, Raze had revealed something undeniable: he was operating on an entirely different level. He might very well stand far beyond Kayzel.
Kayzel, however, was not ready to accept that. His pride burned too hot.
“You think you can pull off one flashy trick and call this match finished?!” he roared, thrusting both hands outward.
Twin lightning bolts surged into existence, splitting wide across the arena in arcing angles, their crackling paths racing straight toward Raze. At the same time, Kayzel pulled his arms inward, gathering mana. A massive fireball formed between his palms, glowing with searing intensity. He spun his wrists, funneling wind into it, until the sphere howled with compressed force.
With a final push, Kayzel hurled it forward. The fireball streaked through the air like a meteor, and now three devastating attacks, lightning from both sides, and the roaring fireball in the center, converged on Raze all at once. The casting was unique, weaving different affinities into a deadly simultaneous strike.
The audience leaned forward, breathless.
Raze only raised his hands. In one, wind surged. In the other, fire ignited. He pressed them together, and the two elements spiraled upward into a massive flaming tornado. It expanded outward in all directions, the air whirling violently. The tornado absorbed the lightning bolts and the fireball as though they were nothing more than fuel, folding them into its rotation until the entire arena blazed with a storm of fire, lightning, and wind.
The crowd gasped. It was a breathtaking sight, a swirling inferno of fused elements, so violent that it threatened to consume the battlefield itself.
And then, in the blink of an eye, it all collapsed. The spell dispersed into thin air, vanishing like mist under the sun. Nothing remained. No flame, no sparks, not even scorch marks on the ground.
Raze stood at the center of it all, his cloak still and his expression unchanged. His body was untouched, not a single mark upon him.
“What are you doing?!” Kayzel’s voice cracked with fury. His face twisted with anger, veins straining on his neck. “Are you not taking this seriously?! You haven’t even moved from your spot! All you’ve done this entire time is block my attacks!”
The words echoed through the arena, but to Raze, they were meaningless.
Raze didn’t say another word beyond what he had already spoken. His silence wasn’t hesitation, it was deliberate. He stood in place, calm and steady, almost as if he were waiting for Kayzel to try more, to show more. And Kayzel, brimming with pride and frustration, gave him exactly that.
He began to craft one of the fiercest spells in his arsenal. Flames surged out of his hands, twisting and rising into the shape of a great bird. The fire expanded, growing hotter, brighter, until it formed the towering image of a phoenix. Its wings stretched wide, embers scattering like feathers, its screech echoing through the arena as though alive.
The crowd gasped at the spectacle. It was magic fueled not only by power but by artistry. And Raze allowed it to come forth unhindered.
At last, he lifted his own hand, channeling his mana. Frost bloomed around his palm, spreading upward in a crystalline glow. In answer to the flaming phoenix, he conjured his own creation, an enormous bird of ice. Its feathers shimmered like sculpted glass, its eyes cold, its wings expanding outward with biting winds.
The two colossal constructs clashed in the sky above. Fire met ice, heat battling cold, a storm of steam exploding into the air. The phoenix’s flames devoured the ice bird’s body, but at the same time, the ice consumed nearly the entirety of the phoenix’s fire, smothering it. The collision left the arena blanketed in a thick mist, the battlefield vanishing into a haze.
When the steam cleared, the truth was plain. Just like before, Raze had stopped every one of his opponent’s attacks.
“Do you know what I’m trying to show you?” Raze finally spoke, his voice sharp as steel. “That you are no different from my opponent before. I will treat you the same way I treated them, because you are no different.”
The words struck Kayzel harder than any spell. His jaw tightened, veins tensing at his temple. No different?
His entire life, people had told him the opposite. They had told him he was special, that he carried the blood of Idore and therefore was destined to be powerful. When he succeeded, they dismissed his effort, saying it was only because of his bloodline. When he failed, they called him lazy, unworthy, spoiled by his birthright.
His existence had been a cage, every achievement weighed against his lineage, every weakness magnified by it. Kayzel had lived in a life where he could never truly win, not unless he clawed his way to the very top. Only then would his power be his own. Only then would the world stop seeing Idore’s blood before it saw Kayzel himself.
And now Raze dared to say he was “no different.”
If I am no different, then why did I live this cursed life? Why did I bleed and fight alone, with no family to lean on, no one to guide me through the storms I endured?
The rage swelled in him, spilling into his magic.
Kayzel began to sprint across the arena, his hands flashing as he wove spell after spell into existence. The crowd gasped as glowing magical formations appeared in the air around him, each one pulsing with a different elemental power. One by one, they lingered, circling like predatory stars.
By the time he stopped, five incarnations hovered around him, each throbbing with deadly energy, fire, lightning, earth, wind, and water.
Kayzel pointed forward, every muscle in his body shaking with fury.
“Let’s see you stop this with your magic!”
All five spells activated at once, unleashing their wrath. From each formation, massive balls of elemental energy hurtled forward, converging together into a storm of destruction aimed squarely at Raze.
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