Vel exchanged one final look with Celia and Tomas before they filed into the dark tunnel. The distant roar of the crowd grew louder with each step, transforming from a muffled rumble to a thunderous wave as they approached the light.
They emerged into the blinding sunlight, the sand-filled arena stretching before them. The seven statues loomed overhead, their stone gazes seeming to follow Vel's movement. He still couldn't shake the eerie feeling they gave him—remnants of his own creation watching his progress.
Vel scanned the crowd. Every seat was filled.
He'd expected the semi-finals to draw massive attendance—but knowing it and seeing it from the arena floor were entirely different things. The stands towered above him, packed shoulder to shoulder, thousands of eyes fixed on the arena below.
Merchants, nobles, curious citizens from throughout Lona—they'd all come to witness the semi-finals. Where previous matches had drawn mostly Academy students, now the entire capital seemed to have turned out.
He spotted the non-combatant students in their distinct uniforms, clustered together in one section. His gaze found familiar faces among them—Enya, Rohen, and Mira sitting together, their expressions a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.
Mira caught his eye and gave a small encouraging nod.
Janos Verterre's magically amplified voice boomed across the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to our first semi-final match of this ASTONISHING Ternion Tournament!"
He gestured dramatically toward Vel's team. "In the east corner, we have the SURPRISING underdogs of this competition—Team Novalance! Led by Velarian Novalance, joined by Tomas Mardin and Celia Freznoria!"
A handful of applause broke out—Enya, Rohen, and Mira clapping from the non-combatant section, a few others scattered through the stands joining in. The rest of the arena stayed quiet, arms crossed, expressions flat.
"Cheaters!" someone shouted, loud enough to carry across half the stands.
"Shut up!" Rohen's voice shot back, sharp and immediate.
"Despite their unconventional composition," Janos continued, "this team has defeated ALL challengers through clever tactics and unexpected abilities!"
From the elite section, another voice rang out. "You're way out of your league!"
Janos swept his arm toward the opposite entrance. "And in the west corner, the FORMIDABLE Team Thornwood! Led by Severin Thornwood, with Karsten Delmar and—"
He paused dramatically as the team emerged, causing a ripple of surprise through the audience.
"What's this? A SUBSTITUTION! Sylwen Wyvell has replaced Liora Silverleaf on Team Thornwood!"
Vel's eyes widened at the sight of Sylwen stepping onto the arena floor, deep crimson uniform matching Severin's team. Sylwen? Did Thornwood recruit her, or did she have no other team left to join?
"It seems Liora has withdrawn from the tournament," Janos announced, barely containing his excitement at this unexpected development. "And Severin has recruited one of the tournament's most IMPRESSIVE competitors to fill her position!"
"So it's Sylwen after all," Tomas said, his hands twisting the wand slightly.
Vel watched her across the arena. "We prepared for Liora or someone with a similar support role. Sylwen is a complete tactical flip."
Celia's eyes stayed fixed on the archer. "It means they started taking us seriously."
Janos's voice boomed across the arena again. "Now THIS is an interesting development, ladies and gentlemen! Thornwood already commands the battlefield with raw firepower and close-range dominance. Add Sylwen Wyvell to the mix—precision, range, and the agility to strike from angles no one sees coming. Three fighters covering every distance. This team is BUILT to overwhelm!"
"Let's stay calm," Vel said, steadying his breathing. "We practiced for a full assault team."
"Not bow users who can shoot three arrows while doing a backflip," Tomas said, his pitch higher than usual.
Vel drew his sword in one smooth motion, revealing the appraisal crystal now embedded in the sword's guard—glinting in the sunlight, the faceted gem catching and refracting light across the arena floor.
Janos's voice rose with excitement. "Look at this, ladies and gentlemen! It seems Severin wasn't the only one with surprises! Team Novalance has brought some developments of their own!"
The crowd murmured as Vel held his blade at the ready, the crystal pulsing with a subtle glow.
"A magic focus embedded in a sword?" Janos continued, his voice rising with theatrical concern. "A RISKY move indeed! Many have tried this before—the resonance from magic and vibration from impact would likely break the weapon under intense use! Are we about to witness such a catastrophe?"
Vel noticed the ripple of reactions spreading through the crowd. Some spectators shook their heads in disapproval, clearly believing the sword-crystal combination would fail spectacularly. Others leaned forward with undisguised curiosity, eager to see this unconventional approach in action. A few nobles in the upper stands merely smirked, as if witnessing the folly of commoners attempting innovation beyond their station.
Even Severin's expression changed—his usual mask of contempt giving way to something more calculating. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Vel's modified weapon, likely reassessing whatever strategy he'd prepared.
For a brief moment, Vel's gaze met Sylwen's across the arena. Unlike Severin's disdain or Karsten's aggression, her eyes held a calm, analytical focus—cataloging his every movement without threat or intimidation. He'd seen Severin's fire and Karsten's spear before, but Sylwen was an unknown variable. He pushed the thought aside and refocused.
Beside him, Celia drew her rapier with practiced grace, executing a quick flourish before settling into her signature stance.
Tomas took his position several paces back, wand extended and ready, his earlier nervousness now replaced with focused determination.
Across the arena, their opponents prepared.
Severin pulled back his sleeve to reveal his focus crystal embedded in the back of his crimson glove, the gem pulsing with barely contained power. Beside him, Karsten spun his spear in an elaborate display before dropping into a low stance, weapon pointed forward.
Sylwen made no such flourishes. Her preparation was economical—bow held loosely at her side, stance relaxed. But her eyes never stopped moving, tracking each member of Vel's team in turn.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Janos's voice boomed across the arena, vibrating with excitement. "ARE! YOU! READYYYY!"
In frozen moment, Vel caught sight of everything: Tomas's fingers tightening around his wand, Celia's heel digging into the sand for better footing, Severin's lips curving into a confident smirk across the arena.
The bell rang.
"Ignis Aura Vehemence!" Severin's voice cut through the air.
Crimson light erupted from his palms, not forming into a construct but spreading like liquid fire across the arena. The spell raced toward Karsten and Sylwen, who made no effort to avoid it. Instead, they extended their weapons directly into the flames.
"What the—" Tomas began.
Not the flame legion they had anticipated, nor the military grade flame serpent.
Enchanted Flame.
The memory of the game he designed surged through Vel's mind. He knew the spell—one that imbued weapons with fiery elements.
But Severin? Someone like him sitting back and supporting his teammates? He sure wasn't expecting this from Severin.
Celia appeared at Vel's side, eyes fixed on their opponents. "That's new. What do we do?"
Vel looked at Celia and Tomas. Despite everything, neither showed fear—only determination and something else. Trust. Complete faith that somehow, they would find a way forward together.
A smile spread across Vel's face, surprising both his teammates.
Vel's initial panic dissolved into something unexpected—a strange, electric calm. He watched Severin's team advance with their weapons blazing, enhanced by the enchanted flames.
"If they're no longer hiding their aces," Vel said, a grin spreading across his face, "then we don't have to hide ours either."
Understanding flashed across their faces. Celia's grip tightened on her rapier while Tomas straightened his shoulders.
Vel raised his sword skyward, the crystal in the guard pulsing with light.
"Aquas... Caelum... Reverti..."
Above them, the air shifted. Moisture gathered—not conjured water like the spell he'd used against the slime, but condensation drawn from the atmosphere itself. Just enough to trigger the cycle. Sustainable. Let nature do the heavy lifting.
Grey clouds coiled into existence above the open roof, swirling inward and thickening with each passing second. The temperature dropped. Each breath came back cool and wet against the lips.
The audience noticed it first. Confused murmurs spread through the stands as people looked skyward.
A single droplet of water struck the sand near Severin's foot.
Then another.
Severin's gaze flicked upward. Karsten's spear lowered a fraction as his eyes followed. Even Sylwen tilted her head toward the darkening sky.
Vel swung his sword downward in a single, decisive arc—like pulling a curtain across a stage.
A wall of rain crashed down onto the arena, instant and overwhelming. The sand darkened on contact, patches spreading and merging until the entire floor turned a deep, wet brown. Steam hissed from Karsten's spear and Sylwen's arrowheads as each droplet struck the enchanted flames—the brilliant orange glow shrinking to a struggling ember beneath the downpour.
"WHAT IS THIS?" Janos's voice carried genuine shock. "Ladies and gentlemen, Team Novalance has somehow conjured RAIN! And look—the downpour is precisely contained within the arena boundaries! There is NOTHING unstable about this spell at all!"
Gasps rippled through the audience.
"Weather manipulation? From an unstable attunement?"
"I told you! He's cheating—he's not an unstable at all!"
"Why would anyone fake being unstable?" someone countered.
In the elite student section, Kein leaned forward, fingers gripping the stone balustrade. His usual mask of aristocratic indifference slipped, replaced by intense calculation. Beside him, Lysithea's mouth hung slightly open.
Higher still, in the official's box, Archmagister Elyssia uncrossed her legs and straightened in her seat. Her piercing gaze fixed on Vel's sword, the corner of her mouth twitching almost imperceptibly.
Only Instructor Lyvenna, standing at the edge of the faculty section, showed no surprise at all. Her calm observation continued uninterrupted.
Karsten recovered first. He lowered his stance, spear angled forward, and charged through the rain toward their position. Even with the enchanted flames weakened, his form was sharp—trained, disciplined.
Celia stepped forward, rapier already in hand. The rain ran down her blade in thin streams, and tiny arcs of electricity danced between the droplets along the steel.
"Celia," Vel called. "Don't go overboard."
She glanced back at him, and the look on her face made him immediately regret saying it.
"Don't go overboard?" She tilted her head, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips. "I've been waiting to use this since the tournament started."
Above them, the rain clouds darkened. The air crackled, the hairs on Vel's arms standing on end.
Celia dropped into her stance. The air around her began to spark, tiny arcs of electricity jumping between her rapier and the wet sand beneath her feet.
"Thunder—"
A bolt of lightning split down from the center of the storm cloud and struck her dead center. In that single, blinding instant, the electricity arced through her body and focused into her blade.
"—crash!"
Then she was gone.
A streak of blue-white lightning tore across the arena, leaving a scorched trail through the wet sand and a violent eruption of steam in its wake. The crack of thunder hit a heartbeat later—so loud several spectators flinched in their seats.
Karsten's body reacted before his mind could. Years of training drove his arms to move, twisting his spear into a horizontal guard as wind channeled through the shaft.
"Gale Guard!"
Air met lightning—a perfect combination for thunder. The collision detonated with a concussive blast that ripped outward in every direction, blowing every raindrop from the air in a perfect sphere around the point of impact. For a single, frozen heartbeat, the space around the two fighters was completely dry—a hollow pocket carved into the downpour before the rain rushed back in to fill it.
Karsten's feet carved deep grooves into the wet sand as the force drove him back—arms shaking, muscles straining against a blow that should have ended the fight.
He held.
But the look on his face told everyone he hadn't expected to need everything he had just to survive the opening exchange. His spear trembled in his grip. His jaw was clenched so tight the veins in his neck bulged.
Celia stood before him, rapier still pressed against his guard, lightning flickering between them. Rain poured over both fighters, each droplet sparking where it touched her blade.
Vel stared at the clash.
He blocked it.
Not deflected. Not dodged by luck. Karsten had read the attack mid-flight and positioned his guard before the lightning even reached him. Against a technique no one in this tournament had ever seen.
Maybe that's why he's in the elite class. Not the flashy spear flourishes. Not the enchanted flames. Just... pure combat instinct.
Vel's gaze dropped to the crystal embedded in his sword's guard—Konomi's appraisal crystal. If there was ever a perfect moment to get a read on Karsten's real capabilities, this was it.
He raised his sword, channeling mana into the focus embedded in the guard. If he could get a read on their opponents' stats while they were occupied—
A whistle cut through the rain.
"Whoops—!"
He threw himself sideways, the arrow slicing through the space where his head had been a heartbeat before. Sylwen had already nocked a second shaft, her gaze locked on him through the downpour.
Right. She's not going to let me do anything unattended.
But he'd dodged with room to spare. Enough time for a counter. Vel extended the tip of his sword toward Sylwen.
"Aeris Luxis Fulmen!"
Lightning coursed along the blade and launched from the tip, streaking through the rain toward the archer.
Sylwen twisted at the waist, the bolt scorching past her close enough to singe the fabric of her sleeve. She landed back into her stance—bow half-drawn, feet planted.
But her brow furrowed. Her eyes flicked upward toward the rain clouds, then back to Vel. Something had caught her attention.
Even Janos noticed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, are you SEEING this?" His voice pitched higher with realization. "Novalance just cast a spell at Wyvell while his rainstorm continues uninterrupted! Do you understand what that means? The rain requires NO active concentration—it's sustaining itself! There is clearly MORE to this young man's affinity than any of us realized!"
Nearby, Celia and Karsten were locked in a relentless exchange — and from where Vel stood, it was hard to tell which one was on the offensive.
Normally, Celia could gracefully deflect and dance around her opponents with that fluid duelist footwork. But against Karsten, her movements were less controlled. More than once she gripped her rapier with both hands just to brace against a heavy thrust, the impact jarring her arms.
Sparks and flame flew where their weapons met. Neither seemed to gain a measurable advantage.
Severin, meanwhile, made no move. He stood behind his teammates, arms folded, observing.
That's strange. Why are they holding back?
But Tomas saw an opening.
A fiery meteor materialized above—condensed magma gathering power for just a heartbeat. Then its rear exploded, propelling itself forward. The ball flew in a zigzagging trajectory, veering left, then right, then dipping low—unstable in every sense of the word. But its general direction was unmistakable. Severin.
Sylwen reacted before anyone else. She didn't reach for her quiver. Her fingers simply drew the bowstring back on an empty bow—and three shimmering arrows materialized along the string, translucent and humming with mana.
She released. The three arrows split apart on different arcs, curving wide through the rain before impossibly converging on the same point. The moment they met, a small magical explosion detonated mid-air—not a direct hit on the magma ball, but close enough. The shockwave shattered the outer shell. But what was inside wasn't what they expected. Molten rock splashed outward from the cracked shell, a trick Tomas and Vel had devised together.
It rained down on Severin. He raised his arm and backstepped just enough to dodge most of it, but winced when a glob caught his forearm. Steam hissed from his uniform where the lava made contact, the protective charms preventing actual burns but clearly simulating the pain.
"WHAT A SAVE!" Janos's voice boomed throughout the arena. "Wyvell's arrow prevents a direct hit, but Mardin's strategy reveals its brilliance! The meteor was filled with LAVA, ladies and gentlemen! What cunning from this young mage!"
Severin brushed the residue from his sleeve. Slowly. Deliberately. His fingers trembled—not from pain, but from something far worse.
He looked down at the scorch mark on his forearm. Then his head lifted toward Tomas.
The arena felt several degrees colder despite the steam rising around him.
"You..." The word came out quiet. Too quiet. "You burned me. With that wretched fire."
Tomas took a step back without meaning to.
Severin's composure cracked. The mask of elite confidence, the calculated poise—all of it fell away. What remained underneath was raw, seething contempt. A fire mage—heir to one of the most prestigious lineages in Lona—had just been scorched by an unstable attunement student wielding a bastardized version of his own element.
"Ignis minorem aeghis!"
Severin's form glowed with ember light. The rain seemed to stop affecting him entirely—droplets hissing into nothing before they reached his skin. Even the wet sand around his feet dried up.
Severin stepped forward.
"You think that pathetic imitation qualifies as fire?" His voice carried across the arena, cutting through the downpour like a blade. "Let me show you what real fire looks like."
Severin clapped his gloved hands in front of him with such intensity the sound cracked across the arena. His fingers moved in complex patterns as he uttered another incantation.
A tornado of flame materialized before Severin, swirling with unnatural speed. It twisted violently, then launched itself toward Tomas, evaporating raindrops on contact.
Tomas raised his wand, words spilling from his lips.
A wall of magma erupted from the ground, forming a barrier between him and the approaching inferno.
The tornado slammed into it with tremendous force. The magma wall crumbled, chunks falling away as the vortex bore through—weakened but still deadly, still aimed at Tomas.
"Tomas!" Vel shouted, already channeling his mana.
"Glacis Vallum!"
A thick sheet of ice materialized between Tomas and the approaching inferno. Vel poured more power into the shield, reinforcing it against the weakened but still dangerous tornado.
The collision sent vibrations through the ground beneath their feet. Steam erupted in all directions as fire met ice, the two forces grinding against each other before finally dissipating.
Vel was so focused on Tomas that he missed the whistle of an arrow cutting through the air. Sylwen had seized the opportunity, firing a precision shot directly at Vel while his attention was diverted.
Time slowed as Vel heard Celia's voice in the distance.
"Thundercrash!"
Her body crackled with electric energy. Even Karsten looked surprised by her sudden change of direction, his spear thrust meeting empty air.
Celia moved with impossible speed, materializing beside Vel. Her rapier flashed in a precise arc as she closed in, slicing the arrow cleanly in two. The severed halves whistled past on either side, embedding themselves harmlessly in the sand.
Her momentum carried her forward, sliding a few paces across the wet sand. She pivoted gracefully at the end of the slide, turning back toward the fight.
"I've got you covered!" she called, already gathering lightning around her blade once more.
Before Vel could reply—
"—crash!"
Only the last word reached him. Electric energy exploded around her body. Celia launched herself back toward Karsten, her form transforming into a streak of crackling lightning that tore across the arena.
Karsten brought his spear up, no longer caught by surprise as he had been by the first strike.
Celia's rapier crashed against the weapon with tremendous force. The impact sent visible tremors through Karsten's arms, his muscles straining against the electrifying strike.
"EXTRAORDINARY!" Janos's voice boomed across the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, this battle is moving at INCREDIBLE speed! The moment you focus on one exchange, another has already concluded! Freznoria just crossed the arena TWICE in mere seconds!"
The moment Celia returned to her stance, she immediately resumed the tempo—rapier darting in and out, keeping Karsten on the defensive. Vel had expected her to use her speed to assist her teammates, but all of it would be for naught if they didn't gain anything significant from these exchanges.
--
In the brief moments between clashes, Vel noticed a pattern. Karsten always placed himself between Celia and Severin. The fire mage was relying heavily on that spear user to keep him safe.
Then one mistake. Celia's foot landed wrong—her balance shifting for just a single step. But that was enough. Karsten drove his spear forward, the tip grazing her uniform across the chest. She twisted away just in time to avoid a solid hit.
Despite her determination, her breathing had grown a bit more ragged. She was exhausting herself too fast, playing multiple fronts at the same time.
I need to do something before she drains herself beyond exertion.
"Celia! Slow your pace!"
Vel wasn't sure she heard it. She was already swinging back into action.
He took one step back to take in the fight as a whole.
Water streamed down everyone's faces now, soaking hair and clothing. Severin's team maintained perfect formation—same as the beginning of the fight. They weren't advancing, neither were they pushed back. And Sylwen stood like a warden, bow at the ready, prepared to intercept anything that came their way.
It would be great if they went on the offensive. That way I could find a way to punish their mistakes or counter with something unexpected.
But this... this is textbook strategy. They're treating us as real opponents—knowing we've been pulling surprises throughout the past matches. They're not risking a single mistake.
Someone must have talked Severin into this.
Vel ran through his options. He couldn't scan all three opponents—the identification spell required concentration, and Sylwen wouldn't ignore him long enough to complete it. That shouldn't be the play anymore.
Hm. How about this. Worth a try.
Ice Lance—Sniper. The long-range variant that could reach Severin even from this distance.
Vel raised his hand, mana gathering at the tip of his sword.
"Lumino Zetahn Feryis Crysta—"
Sylwen's bow snapped up. A spinning arrow was already in flight before he could finish the last syllable. He had to throw himself aside, and his aim shifted by just an inch—but that was enough. The ice lance sailed wide, missing Severin by a distance that might as well have been miles.
This won't work. Most of their surprise attacks had already been used in previous fights. At this distance, anything would just be telegraphing. Her reflexes made it impossible to pin her down with conventional traps. Even if she ran out of arrows, she still had Bow Arts that didn't need ammunition. But if he ran out of mana... she clearly had the advantage in a war of attrition.
Not to mention, Sylwen likely possesses the power shot most archers do—one that can tear through most obstacles. If she starts using that against Tomas...
He looked down at his sword, the crystal pulsing against his palm.
Well. Only one option left. Step in close, stop the bow, and make an opening instead of waiting for one. That would solve many problems at once.
That would leave...
"Tomas, focus on Severin when you have the chance," Vel instructed, his voice low but clear.
Vel spun his sword in a downward arc, the blade trailing mana like water flung from a brush. The energy splashed across the sand and surged upward through his legs—his feet glowing a faint blue.
"Ventis Passus Ethrium."
Sylwen's bow snapped up at the movement, arrow half-drawn. But her stance relaxed a fraction when she realized it wasn't an attack aimed at her.
By then, Vel was already moving. His next step carried him across the wet sand far faster than any normal stride—closing the distance toward Sylwen in a blur of motion.
Sylwen responded instantly, switching her bow stance to meet him with her own "Feather Step" technique—not a spell like his, but a martial art she'd clearly mastered. Their movements mirrored each other as they converged at the center of the arena.
Vel initiated his attack pattern, starting with a horizontal slash aimed at her midsection. Sylwen responded with a graceful backflip that carried her just beyond his blade's reach. The movement seemed almost casual, requiring minimal clearance.
Following through, Vel thrust his sword directly at her landing point, anticipating her recovery. Without missing a beat, Sylwen transitioned her backflip into a butterfly twist, her body rotating horizontally in mid-air as she passed over his extended blade.
Most impressive was what happened during her aerial maneuver—her fingers somehow managed to pluck an arrow from her quiver and nock it while her body rotated. The moment her feet touched the sand again, she was already releasing the shot.
Vel barely managed to twist away, the arrow grazing his uniform.
"Aeris Luxis Fulmen!" Vel directed a lightning bolt not at Sylwen herself but at the wet sand where she would likely land next. The electricity crackled across the damp surface, creating a momentary hazard zone.
Sylwen planted one end of her bow into the sand, using it as a pole vault to propel herself clear. Another acrobatic evasion. Her body arced through the air, landing well outside the electrified zone.
Tsk.
Vel kept his eyes not just on Sylwen's hands and bow, but specifically on her footwork. He'd seen how quickly she could transition from defensive maneuvers to sweeping attacks. One moment of inattention to her lower body could end with him flat on his back.
As she created distance between them, Vel saw her fingers already working the bowstring. He pushed forward immediately, trying to close the gap before she could release another shot.
Three projectiles materialized from her bow in rapid succession—translucent arrows of pure mana rather than physical shafts. They struck the sand in a triangular pattern around him, each impact forcing him to adjust his path.
Quick Shots. Vel recognized the bow art immediately. Not designed for precision or damage—purely for control. Every arrow was a command, pushing him into the line of her killing blow.
As Vel recovered from the last dodge, he glanced up to find Sylwen already airborne, her body silhouetted against the dark rain clouds he'd summoned. She'd used the distraction to gain height advantage.
Twin Strike.
Two arrows flew toward him in impossibly quick succession, barely a heartbeat between releases.
Not enough time for a dodge. Vel raised his sword.
The first arrow struck his blade with a sharp crack. The second followed immediately, hitting the same spot. Vel felt something wrong in his grip—a subtle shift in the blade's response.
He quickly backstepped, resetting his stance for another advance. Taking advantage of the brief respite, Vel glanced at the mana reserves on his interface. The continuous maintenance of the rain cloud overhead was constantly draining his energy. Each lightning spell depleted it further. If this match dragged on much longer, he'd be forced to drop the weather manipulation entirely.
"Sonic Boom!"
Karsten's voice rang across the arena, cutting through the rainfall.
The audience erupted in gasps and shouts. Vel turned toward the commotion just in time to witness something he'd never seen from any student. Karsten had positioned himself horizontally alongside his spear, his body perfectly aligned with the weapon. In a blur of motion, both spear and wielder began spinning together, creating a vortex-like effect as they hurtled forward.
The technique transformed Karsten into a human projectile, rotating at impossible speed as he shot across the arena floor. Sand erupted in his wake, spraying outward despite the dampness from Vel's rain.
Karsten's trajectory aimed straight for Celia, who was already exhausted from fighting.
Despite her fatigue, Celia summoned another surge of electrical energy around her blade. Her body tensed, gathering her strength as lightning crackled along her rapier. With a determined expression, she launched herself forward.
The two forces met at the center of the arena—Karsten's spinning Sonic Boom colliding with Celia's lightning-enhanced charge. The impact created a visible shockwave that rippled outward, momentarily flattening the rain in a perfect circle around them. The sound was deafening, like actual thunder had struck inside the arena.
Both competitors were thrown backward by the collision, skidding across the wet sand in opposite directions.
She's refusing to back down. Why is she fighting him head-on? Vel frowned. Has something happened during their exchange?
Meanwhile, Tomas kept Severin occupied. The fire mage hurled projectiles at the scattered team, but Tomas raised earthen barriers to intercept them before they could reach Vel or Celia. Between defenses, he launched his own magma bolts to prevent Severin from focusing on any single target. Each barrier crumbled under the assault, forcing Tomas to raise another—a constant cycle of protection and counterattack.
Though Tomas was holding his own, Vel could see the strain on his face. Each spell drained more of his reserves, his breathing becoming increasingly labored. Sweat mingled with rainwater on his forehead as he struggled to maintain the pace Severin was setting.
A movement in Vel's peripheral vision caught his attention. Turning, he saw Sylwen in a wide stance, her bow drawn back much farther than should have been physically possible. The arrow nocked against the string glowed with an intense green light, power visibly gathering around the arrowhead.
Oh no.
Sylwen was charging her Power Shot—not at Tomas, but at Vel himself.
Instinctively, Vel channeled ice magic outward. Multiple layers of crystalline barriers materialized in the arrow's path.
The arrow left the bow with a sound like tearing cloth, pulling the air behind it in a visible trail of distortion.
The Power Shot tore through sheet after sheet of barrier, each one shattering on impact—barely slowing the arrow's momentum.
Vel could dodge—but not far enough. The kinetic force from the spinning arrow would knock him off balance, leaving him wide open for any follow-up.
At the last second, he reinforced his sword with ice and raised it to intercept. Both hands gripped tight—one on the hilt, the other braced against the blade with his forearm.
The arrow struck with tremendous force. Instead of deflecting, it continued spinning in place, drilling against the reinforced edge. Vel's arms shook from the pressure. The ice coating cracked and splintered, fragments falling away as the arrow bored deeper into the metal beneath.
Crack.
A spiderweb of fractures spread across Vel's blade from the point of impact. In the next instant, the metal shattered completely, disintegrating into fragments that scattered across the sand. Only the hilt remained in Vel's grip, the embedded crystal somehow intact despite the destruction around it.
The arrow's momentum finally spent, it clattered harmlessly to the ground.
"THERE IT IS, FOLKS!" Janos's voice boomed. "The UNAVOIDABLE outcome we've been expecting! Novalance's sword has been completely destroyed by Wyvell's Power Shot! Miss Wyvell deliberately targeted the weapon rather than its user—a calculated strategy to disarm her opponent!"
Vel looked at the hilt in his hand, the crystal still intact despite the shattered blade around it. Fragments scattered across the wet sand at his feet.
Huh. So this is what would happen.
Vel's subtle smile caught Sylwen off guard. Her bow lowered slightly, her gaze narrowing in confusion.
She didn't waste the opening and charged forward, bow still in hand as she drew another arrow from her quiver. Her eyes locked onto Vel with predatory focus, determined to make this shot count.
She dropped low, executing a perfect leg sweep aimed at Vel's ankles.
But her rhythm breaking slightly as she caught sight of Vel's face. He wasn't panicking or retreating.
He was grinning.
Honka's muscular form suddenly materialized in Vel's mind. Their reunion at the Guild had led to more than just casual conversation.
"Footwork is everything in hand-to-hand combat. Never give them what they want."
As Sylwen's leg swept toward him, Vel pulled his lead foot backward, shifting his weight to his rear leg. The sweep missed. Sylwen immediately used the momentum, spinning once more to transform the failed sweep into an upward kick—the arrow still nocked and ready to fire point-blank upon impact.
But instead of retreating, Vel dropped into the stance Honka had drilled into him. He caught her leg mid-spin. Sylwen hadn't expected the interception. The roundhouse kick faltered mid-arc, leaving her unable to complete the spin into firing position.
Vel's hands moved like water, flowing with her kick's momentum rather than against it. He redirected the force, turning it back on her. With one final push, he sent Sylwen off balance.
She landed several paces away, flat on her back with a surprised grunt.
"Glacis Feryis Crystallum!" Vel immediately channeled an Ice Lance spell, aiming directly at where she lay.
Sylwen's reflexes were extraordinary. Without hesitation, she bent her legs up toward her head, compressing her body like a spring. The moment the ice lance materialized, she released the tension, propelling herself backward in a graceful flip that carried her just beyond the spell's impact point.
Vel grunted in frustration as Sylwen executed yet another perfect evasion. "Ugh, stop it already," he muttered under his breath.
But as Sylwen landed from her flip, Vel paused.
Wait.
The distance between them gave him a moment to process. His eyes tracked her position—then swept across the battlefield to where Tomas and Severin continued their exchange.
She's standing right at—
Sylwen realized it too. But a few seconds too late.
Severin and Tomas had already released their next assault. Sylwen stood directly between the two converging spells, caught in the crossfire she hadn't noticed until now.
For the first time in this match, something had gone in Vel's favor completely by accident.
"Aeris Luxis—" Vel shouted, starting an incantation as if he'd planned it all along.
Vel watched as Sylwen transformed her disadvantage into yet another display of acrobatic prowess.
She strapped her bow to her back with one hand while dropping into a crouch. Her other hand planted on the sand. Then she kicked her legs upward—and the moment they left the ground, she began spinning. Her body whirled around that single planted hand, the upward kick becoming continuous rotation.
Faster and faster. Her legs became a blur as momentum built with each spin.
At the peak of acceleration, both her hands pushed hard against the sand. The force launched her skyward like a human cyclone, propelling her clear of the converging spells below.
It all happened in seconds.
The magma bolts and fireballs collided precisely where she'd been standing a heartbeat earlier, creating a spectacular explosion that sent sand and steam erupting upward. The crowd roared, many spectators rising to their feet.
Sylwen reached the apex of her jump, her body outlined against the dark rain clouds above. Then she began to fall.
"Tomas!" Vel shouted, pointing to the spot in the sand where Sylwen would land.
But Tomas was already ahead of him. His hands pressed downward as he channeled earth and fire magic simultaneously into the arena floor. The sand beneath Sylwen's landing zone bubbled and rose, forming a miniature volcano that glowed with internal heat.
Severin recognized the danger to his teammate. His hands moved frantically, weaving a protective fire shield. The spell formed above him, beginning to race toward Sylwen's falling trajectory. But his casting was too slow—the distance too great. The protection wouldn't arrive in time.
From across the arena, Celia had already dropped into her stance, her rapier crackling with electrical energy.
"Trinity Volt!"
Two lightning bolts erupted from her rapier in rapid succession—both aimed at Karsten. His spear became a blur, two wind slashes, deflecting the first and intercepting the second mid-flight. The effort showed on his face, but he made it look easier than it was.
No one had expected what came next.
Celia shifted her weight to one side as if preparing another strike at Karsten. Then her third thrust aimed upward—a completely different direction. The final lightning bolt shot not at Karsten, but toward the sky—directly at where Sylwen would fall.
Even in free-fall, plummeting toward the forming volcano, Sylwen drew the bowstring back on an empty bow. No time to nock a physical arrow—a single glowing shaft of mana materialized along the string instead. She aimed and released.
The arrow streaked toward Tomas, who remained focused on maintaining his volcano spell. Too late, he noticed the projectile. It struck him dead center in the chest, driving him backward and slamming him into the sand. The glowing mana arrow remained embedded for a single frozen moment—a luminous shaft pinning him to the ground, both arms flung wide.
At the same moment, Celia's lightning bolt struck Sylwen mid-air. The single bolt wasn't enough to eliminate her—Trinity Volt typically required all three strikes on one target—but it was enough to weaken her protective charm significantly.
Then she dropped into the volcano's eruption zone.
Superheated earth exploded upward in a roaring column. The blast finished what the lightning had begun, shattering her protective charm with a sharp, glasslike crack. The eruption flung Sylwen across the arena, her body spun twice before she hit the sand and rolled to a stop.
Tomas's protective charm cracked with an audible snap, fragments of magical energy scattering across his chest before the mana arrow faded to nothing. Both competitors eliminated within a heartbeat of each other.
"SHE FIRED FROM FREE-FALL!" Janos's voice cracked with excitement. "Wyvell takes down Mardin with her last shot—but Freznoria's lightning catches her mid-air! The volcano finishes what the bolt started! DOUBLE ELIMINATION!"
Vel couldn't help but feel a pang of respect for Sylwen. Even falling through the air toward certain elimination, she'd managed to take Tomas out with her final shot. That level of composure under pressure was exactly why she'd earned her reputation.
A flicker of movement caught Vel's eye. While everyone's attention had been drawn to the spectacular double elimination, Karsten was charging toward Celia, spear extended.
"Celia, watch out!" Vel shouted.
Celia spun around, barely registering the threat in time. She raised her rapier, clearly exhausted from her previous exertions.
"Glacis Feryis Crystallum!" Vel didn't hesitate as he sent an ice lance streaking toward Karsten.
Karsten deflected Vel's spell with a smooth swing of his spear, maintaining his momentum as ice fragments scattered through the air. But the deflection slowed him just enough—Celia raised her rapier in time.
Steel met steel with a sharp ring. The impact shook both their arms, weapons locking for a brief moment. Karsten let out an audible grunt.
But the opening was gone. Karsten found himself facing both Vel and Celia, a Two-versus-One he couldn't win. Without hesitation, he broke the lock and leaped backward, crossing the distance to where Severin stood. The fire mage looked winded but determined, his hands still glowing with residual heat from his previous spells.
Vel sprinted across the arena to Celia's side, his boots splashing through puddles that had formed in the wet sand. They stood side by side, both breathing heavily as they assessed the situation.
"Two against two," Celia whispered, her voice ragged from exertion. "Not exactly how we planned it."
"Plans rarely survive contact with the enemy," Vel replied, keeping his eyes fixed on their opponents.
Across the arena, Severin and Karsten had also regrouped, heads bent together in urgent conference. All four contestants were visibly exhausted, their uniforms soaked with rain and sweat, their breathing labored.
The match had devolved into something much more intimate—a duel of pairs, each side struggling to find some final reserve of strength to secure victory.
Vel wiped rainwater from his eyes, assessing their situation. The continuous downpour had turned the arena floor into a muddy expanse of wet sand. His muscles ached from exertion, and his mana reserves were dangerously low from maintaining the weather spell.
"How long can you keep going?" he asked Celia, noting the tremor in her hands as she gripped her rapier.
"As long as you need," she replied, but Vel knew better. The repeated lightning techniques had drained her severely. Despite her determined expression, her breathing was labored, and her stance had lost its usual perfect form. She was near her limit, just as he was if he continued maintaining the rainfall.
Across the arena, Severin and Karsten had finished their brief conference. Karsten rolled his shoulders, twirling his spear with noticeably less flourish than before. The spearman's actions revealed his weariness—each spin a bit more sluggish than his typical sharp form.
Severin raised his hands, flame dancing between his fingertips as he prepared his next attack. His voice rang out across the arena, clear and confident despite his obvious exhaustion.
"Ignis Bellator Dualus!"
Two pillars of fire erupted from the arena floor in front of Severin. As the flames receded, they left behind humanoid figures composed entirely of living fire. One wielded a flaming sword that flickered and danced with each movement; the other held a bow formed of pure flame.
"He's replacing Sylwen," Celia whispered, her voice barely audible over the crowd's gasps of appreciation.
Vel nodded, studying the constructs with a critical eye. Severin's go-to spell—impressive but predictable.
"Though the flame legions are a lot easier to deal with," Vel noted.
Celia glanced at him, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she analyzed their opponent's strategy. "He's still not using that fire serpent though. I wonder why."
"That spell's too dangerous," Vel explained. "It could hit Karsten too."
Vel's eyes narrowed as he studied Severin's stance. "He's being more conservative than before. Not going all out like our first duel." A pause. "He actually learned from his mistakes. We shouldn't underestimate him."
Vel made a quick decision and cut short the rain spell. The downpour thinned, then stopped.
The sudden absence of rainfall drew murmurs from the audience. Spectators leaned forward in their seats, sensing a shift in the battle's momentum. The anticipation was palpable, a collective intake of breath that seemed to hang in the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Janos's voice cut through the tension. "It appears Novalance has ended his weather manipulation! Was this a deliberate tactical decision—or has he reached his limit? The stage is set for what could be the FINAL confrontation of this extraordinary match!"
From the corner of his eye, Vel noticed transparent domes of protective energy materializing over the fallen competitors. Officials had erected magical barriers around both Tomas and Sylwen, safely removing them from the battlefield while the match continued. He could feel their observing eyes beyond the transparent barrier.
Vel considered their diminishing options. Without his sword, he'd need to rely on spellcasting, but his mana reserves were low after maintaining the rain spell. Across the arena, Severin's flame legions advanced, their fiery forms casting dancing shadows across the wet sand.
Celia stepped closer to him, her voice barely audible.
"Maybe we should try THAT thing."
Vel turned to her, slowly realizing what she meant.
"Are you sure? We haven't perfected it," he whispered back, concerned about the risk.
Celia's eyes remained fixed on their approaching opponents. "It's now or never. The longer we wait, the harder it will get."
Vel understood her reasoning immediately. If they waited any longer, Celia's precision would falter, making their combination technique impossible.
"Alright," Vel finally said. "Wait for my signal."
The flame legions advanced in perfect formation, flanking Karsten who approached with his spear held at the ready. Behind them, Severin directed their movements with subtle gestures, conserving his own energy while his constructs did the fighting. Spectators leaned forward in their seats, sensing the match's climax approaching.
Vel extended his arm toward their opponents, fingers spread wide, his hand slightly shaky. He needed perfect timing for this to work—too early, and they might recognize the pattern; too late, and they'd be overwhelmed by the advancing forces.
Vel twirled his finger into a snapping position, focusing his remaining mana into the magic circle he'd been developing.
"Resonex Aeryx Stalix," he spoke softly.
Then he snapped his fingers.
Despite the softness of his voice, the incantation seemed to ripple outward, each syllable echoing and reverberating as if spoken in a vast empty chamber rather than an open arena. The air itself began to vibrate in strange patterns—not violently, but with a persistent low-frequency oscillation that reminded Vel of the tremors before an earthquake.
Across the arena, Severin and Karsten faltered mid-step, their bodies suddenly struggling to maintain equilibrium as the vibrations interfered with their sense of balance. The flame legions flickered erratically, their coherence disrupted by the resonant frequencies.
In the elite spectator section, Kein and Prince Eldrin suddenly stood up, both leaning forward with identical expressions of surprise and recognition. They realized what Vel had just accomplished—a perfect replication of the Prince's signature resonance technique.
Severin reached out to steady himself. Karsten was equally disoriented, his weapon wavering as he fought to maintain his stance. The flame legions' movements became jerky and unpredictable as they struggled against the disruptive resonance.
Beside Vel, Celia's body coiled like a spring, her rapier held at her side and angled backward. The air around her began to spark and crackle with electrical energy, tiny arcs jumping between her blade and the wet sand beneath her feet.
With a sudden burst of motion, Celia launched herself forward. Her form transformed into a living lightning bolt that tore across the arena, leaving a scorched trail through the damp sand. She struck Karsten first, the protective charm flaring brilliantly as it simulated the devastating impact. The lightning continued unabated, bouncing to the first flame legion, then the second, each contact causing the constructs to dissipate in spectacular flashes.
But as Celia approached Severin, Vel noticed something wrong. The brilliant blue-white energy surrounding her began to flicker and fade. Her human form rematerialized just short of her target, momentum carrying her forward as she stumbled and rolled across the sand floor, coming to rest several paces from the fire mage.
A moment of silence fell over the arena as everyone processed what they'd just witnessed.
Then Janos's voice boomed across the coliseum: "WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE WE WITNESSING? Ladies and gentlemen, did you SEE that? Team Novalance has somehow REPLICATED the Prince's resonance technique! But with a LIGHTNING bolt instead of light! The combination of Novalance's sound disruption and Freznoria's electrical transformation—simply UNPRECEDENTED!"
Vel's heart pounded in his chest. They'd done it—mostly. His eyes darted to where Celia lay sprawled in the sand, her chest heaving with exhaustion. She'd made it through Karsten and both flame legions but had run out of energy before reaching Severin.
The fire mage stood frozen, clearly stunned by what had just happened. His flame legions were gone, his teammate eliminated, and he now faced two opponents alone. But Celia was down, at least temporarily, which gave Severin a critical opening.
In the elite spectator section, Vel caught a glimpse of Kein and Prince Eldrin. The prince's mouth hung slightly open, while Kein's expression had transformed from his usual aristocratic mask to one of genuine astonishment. They'd clearly recognized their own technique—modified and repurposed in a way they never imagined possible.
Vel knew he had only seconds to finish the match before Severin recovered. Drawing his remaining mana into a tight focus, he began the incantation for his modified spell.
"Lumino Zetahn Feryis Cryst—"
A blinding flash interrupted his concentration as his interface suddenly materialized before his eyes, text scrolling across his vision:
[Nexus event completed]
[Air Nexus restored]
What? Not now! Vel thought desperately, trying to dismiss the notification.
Before he could regain control, reality dissolved around him. The arena, the crowd, Severin—all faded as a cascade of images flooded his mind.
Landre stood in a cavern, her body radiating pure light as she faced the bat-like form of Alukah. The creature shrieked as its body disintegrated. Behind her, soldiers and adventurers cheered.
The vision shifted. Portals tore open across an unfamiliar landscape. Armies poured through—not monsters, but organized forces in strange armor. Their banners bore symbols Vel didn't recognize.
Then came Zephyr—the Air Primordial in all its glory. The massive thunderbird's form shimmered, condensing into a human shape. It stood alongside six other figures, each radiating elemental power. But only Zephyr seemed aware, its—no, his—eyes scanning as if searching for something.
[New message received]
[Updating...]
The vision collapsed, reality rushing back like water down a drain. Vel gasped, finding himself back in the arena, disoriented and unsteady.
"VEL!!"
Celia's desperate cry cut through his confusion. She was running toward him, her rapier abandoned in the sand. Behind her, a massive serpent formed entirely of flame slithered through the air, its maw opened wide to engulf them both.
Severin had cast his ultimate spell—Ignis Voracium Infernum.
Vel's body refused to respond, still caught between vision and reality. He couldn't move, couldn't cast, couldn't even speak as the fiery serpent bore down on them.
Celia launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around Vel and turning her back to the approaching inferno. Her body shielded his as the serpent engulfed them both.
A blinding flash erupted as Celia's protective charm fought against the overwhelming force of Severin's attack. For a moment, the barrier held, blue energy struggling against crimson flame.
Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the charm broke.
A transparent barrier of golden light materialized around both of them—Celia's unconscious form and Vel still inside it. The protective dome hummed softly, shielding them from further harm.
"Novalance!" A voice shouted from an official at the perimeter. "You have twenty seconds to get out of the barrier before disqualification!"
Vel staggered to his feet, mind still reeling from the vision that had interrupted his concentration at the worst possible moment. His eyes fixed on Celia's still form—she had risked everything to protect him, pushing herself beyond exhaustion.
Across the arena, Severin stood with his arms extended, triumph etched across his features. With Celia down and Vel seemingly disoriented, nothing stood between him and victory.
"Prepare yourself, Novalance!" Severin called, his voice carrying across the suddenly hushed arena. "This ends now!"
Vel's interface flickered erratically, status warnings and alerts blinking between him and his opponent. The system seemed as disoriented as he was, struggling to process whatever had happened during his vision.
Severin began another incantation, flames gathering between his palms. The fire twisted and coalesced, taking the familiar serpentine shape that had nearly consumed Vel moments before. The audience gasped as a second fiery serpent materialized, larger than the first, its maw opening wide as it launched toward Vel.
[System Update completed]
Vel's conscious mind shut down. Something deeper took over—instinct, memory, or something else entirely. His hand shot up toward the approaching inferno, palm outward.
Words tore from Vel's throat—but they weren't his. Each syllable resonated with primal power that didn't belong to him.
"Zyr'thak Nive'us Fenyrak!"
The voice that spoke was deep, ancient. The sound vibrated through the very foundations of the arena, rattling in the chests of every spectator.
The language was unlike anything anyone had ever heard—harsh yet beautiful, old beyond measure.
In the highest box, Archmagister Elyssia Caelum stood, no longer in her seat. Her eyes locked on Vel with an intensity that bordered on alarm.
As the words left his lips, a transparent mirage formed behind Vel—barely visible, like heat shimmer on a summer day. The shape of a thunderbird, its head raised, identical to the statues positioned around the arena. Its eyes glowed briefly, pale and ethereal.
No one noticed. Every eye was fixed on Vel's hand, on the gathering frost, on the impossibility unfolding before them. The mirage faded as quickly as it had appeared, missed by all observing eyes.
Frost gathered around Vel's outstretched hand, swirling into existence and taking form. Within seconds, an enormous phoenix of pure ice materialized, its crystalline wings spanning the width of the arena. The creature's eyes glowed with an inner light as it launched itself toward Severin's fire serpent.
The phoenix tore through the serpent's fiery form, wings extended in majestic flight, reducing the serpent into dissipating embers as the icy construct continued its relentless path toward Severin. The air itself froze the moment it passed, curving spikes of ice surged from the ground along its path, rising symmetrically on either side like a frozen corridor—a frozen wake that marked its trajectory straight toward Severin.
Severin's body froze—not from magic but from shock. His most powerful attack had never been stopped before, let alone completely overwhelmed. The phoenix's wings beat once, propelling it forward with impossible speed.
Vel's consciousness clawed back just enough to witness the icy phoenix rise sharply, wings spread wide against the arena sky. Then it angled downward—diving straight at Severin. As it closed the distance, its crystalline form lost shape, dissolving into a stream of liquid frost that spiraled inward and poured into Severin's chest as if drawn by a force within him.
Frost spread rapidly across Severin's body, starting from his chest and flowing outward like liquid crystal. Within moments, he was completely encased in a shell of ice, his expression of shock preserved perfectly. If not for the protective charm, the spell would have been instantly fatal.
The charm flared brilliantly as it fought against the overwhelming cold, its energy pulsing erratically. Cracks appeared, spreading like fractures in thin glass.
The charm wasn't going to hold.
A blur of motion descended from the highest box. Archmagister Elyssia Caelum landed right next to the frozen Severin, her hands already weaving complex patterns. Golden energy poured from her palms, reinforcing the failing charm with her own power.
Elyssia's golden energy wrapped around the failing charm, steadying the fractures like hands pressing broken glass together. For a long, breathless moment, it was a question of whether her power could hold against the overwhelming cold.
It held. Just barely.
The frost began to thaw under the sustained pressure, ice retreating from Severin's body in slow, reluctant streaks.
With a sound like breaking crystal, the charm finally shattered—but its purpose was fulfilled. Severin collapsed, hitting the sand on his side before curling flat against the ground. His mouth gaped open, desperate gasps tearing from his throat. His whole body shook—arms, legs, fingers—trembling uncontrollably as officials rushed to surround him with healing magic.
Elyssia remained standing over him, her expression grave as she looked back at Vel.
The arena fell into complete silence. Even Janos, whose job was specifically to fill moments like this with enthusiastic commentary, remained speechless.
Vel stood alone in the center of the arena. His mind raced to understand what had just happened. The words had come from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere beyond his conscious mind—as if someone else had briefly taken control.
His arm, still extended from casting the mysterious spell, felt impossibly heavy. He let it drop to his side. Sensation slowly returned to Vel's body like water trickling back into a dried riverbed.
His chest heaved with exertion as he struggled to draw enough air into his lungs. The world around him seemed to move in slow motion—officials rushing toward Severin, healers attending to Celia, the audience frozen in stunned silence.
"Shit," he whispered, the word escaping before he could stop it.
Vel turned slowly, taking in the expressions of those around him. Bamboozlement was the only word that could describe it—pure, unfiltered shock etched across every face.
In the elite section, Kein forced himself to sit. The motion was deliberate, too controlled—an effort to reclaim something already slipping. Prince Eldrin leaned back as well, eyes narrowing, no longer watching the match but reassessing the boy at its center.
Instructor Lyvenna stood at the edge of the arena, her face pale, eyes wide with something between awe and terror.
And there—standing on the arena floor itself—Archmagister Elyssia Caelum remained mere paces from Severin's fallen form. Her gaze settled on Vel with measured stillness, the look reserved for a threat never meant to emerge—and now impossible to ignore.
No one moved. No one spoke. Vel had no idea what to do next. Bow? Leave? Say something? No protocol existed for whatever had just happened.
Someone should give him a signal or something.
The silence stretched impossibly long, broken only by the sound of Severin's form under the ministrations of the healers.
Finally, Janos Verterre seemed to remember his purpose. His voice, when it came, lacked its usual bombastic quality, instead carrying a note of genuine bewilderment.
"Ladies and gentlemen... Team Novalance... has won the match."
The comment came out as obvious and flat—a man who had no prepared words for this situation.
The silence shattered as Janos cleared his throat, his voice carrying a forced lightness that somehow made the tension worse.
"If someone knows exactly what that spell was, please explain it to me!" he called out with an exaggerated gesture of confusion. "I'm sure we'd all like to be enlightened!"
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the audience. Vel remained frozen in place, his mind racing for some explanation he could offer.
The awkward moment stretched, then began to dissolve as spectators turned to each other, offering their own theories in hushed voices that gradually grew louder.
"Sounded strange—"
"No, clearly a secret technique—"
"Unnatural pattern—"
"Almost rumbling—"
The whispers built upon each other until they formed a wave of speculation that washed away the stunned silence. Then, from somewhere in the non-combatant student section, a single voice shouted:
"THAT WAS AMAZING!"
Like a dam breaking, cheers erupted from that section—first hesitant, then building into a roar. Vel's classmates—Enya, Rohen, and Mira—jumped to their feet, shouting his name with unrestrained excitement. Their enthusiasm spread like wildfire, infecting other sections until the entire arena vibrated with sound.
"AND THERE YOU HAVE IT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Janos's voice boomed, finding its familiar rhythm. "TEAM NOVALANCE ADVANCES TO THE FINALS! What an UNBELIEVABLE display of magical prowess!"
Movement at the edge of the arena caught Vel's attention. The protective bubble around Celia flickered and dissolved as she stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Relief flooded through him, momentarily displacing his confusion about the mysterious spell.
Across the arena, similar bubbles dissolved around Tomas and Sylwen as officials helped them to their feet. They looked dazed but unharmed, staring at Vel with expressions that mirrored the audience's bewilderment. Karsten's bubble dissolved last, revealing the spearman sitting flat on the ground, legs folded, his spear planted upright beside him like a pillar. He made no intention to move.
Vel took a tentative step toward Celia, then another, his legs feeling strangely disconnected from his body. He knelt beside her as she pushed herself up on one elbow.
"Did we... win?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the continuing roar of the crowd.
Vel nodded.
"You didn't have to do that," he said quietly. "You could have let the serpent take me out, then finished Severin yourself while he was distracted."
"Hmph." Celia tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite the exhaustion. "You sound ungrateful."
"I'm not, it's just—"
"I told you," she cut him off. "I got you covered."
Vel helped Celia to her feet, steadying her as she swayed slightly.
"You look worried," Celia whispered, leaning close so only he could hear.
Vel shook his head minutely. "We should talk later."
His gaze swept across the arena, noting the various reactions. Most seemed caught between awe and excitement, but he caught glimpses of other expressions—calculation, suspicion, fear. In the elite section, several students were already scribbling notes, likely documenting every detail of his unexpected display.
The cult symbol he'd spotted in the city flashed through his mind. If they'd been watching, this display would certainly draw their attention. His chest tightened at the thought. Not for himself—he could handle whatever they threw at him. But Celia, Hileya, his family... they'd become targets the moment he revealed this level of power.
"Team Novalance!" An official beckoned them toward the exit. "Please proceed to the recovery area."
As they walked, Vel felt the weight of hundreds of eyes following their movement. He'd wanted to prove themselves capable, but not like this. Not in a way that might endanger everyone he cared about.
"That was incredible!" Tomas joined them, his earlier exhaustion forgotten in excitement. "How did you—"
"Later," Vel cut him off gently, noting several people trying to edge closer to overhear their conversation.
They needed somewhere private to talk. Somewhere he could try to explain what had happened—or at least, what little he understood of it. For now, though, they had to navigate the immediate aftermath of their victory while every eye in the Academy watched their every move.
[Ch37 3/3]