Edwin raised his sword again.
"I haven't."
And for the first time—
He didn't rush.
He waited.
The two mages advanced cautiously, spacing themselves apart, forcing Edwin to split his attention.
Wind pressure gathered.
Earth mana shifted beneath the floor.
Edwin moved left, then right, blocking a sudden stone spike, parrying a blade of compressed air.
He countered with a precise slash—but the mage barely managed to dodge, his robe torn at the edge.
The second mage retaliated instantly, sending a wave of gravity distortion that slammed Edwin sideways.
Edwin crashed into the ground, rolling before regaining his footing.
Blood trickled from his lip.
"…Equal," Edwin thought.
(If I underestimate them now, I'll lose.)
The two mages were breathing hard too.
Sweat dripped down their faces.
Mana reserves were dropping fast.
But their eyes burned with determination.
(Arcadia is always the top…) the first mage thought bitterly.
(But we won't fall easily.)
