All the other kids had been incapacitated, rendered powerless in the face of Abel. What they could do, he could do better. This harsh reality was one they had to accept
"I'm sorry, Mizar, but I can't allow you guys to participate in that competition," Abel reluctantly uttered.
Deep down, he felt a pang of anguish at the thought of confronting those kids without holding back. Nevertheless, he knew it was necessary. It was better for him to give them a challenging experience than to let them face an opponent who would show no mercy.
With this, they would at least learn to be careful against a stronger opponent and to not fight a battle they couldn't win.
Despite being on the brink of defeat, the fire in Mizar's eyes had yet to be extinguished. He retained a flicker of spirit, ready to burn brightly in the face of the ongoing fight.
"I know, Abel, but I will grow stronger. Right here and now," Mizar declared, his voice brimming with unwavering conviction.
"You think so? No, you won't," Abel reluctantly acknowledged Mizar's innate talent for rapidly grasping magic. However, he knew that alone would not suffice to survive in the upcoming tournament.
The Chalice Cup is a tournament that represents power and glory. The stakes are high, with the winner claiming it all. This is precisely why participants are willing to go to any lengths to secure victory. They are prepared to employ any means necessary to achieve their ultimate goal.
With a deft motion of his wrists, Abel manipulated his mana, shaping it into a powerful wave that forcefully hurled Mizar backward. Mizar was propelled several steps away, tumbling to the ground.
Despite the setback, he quickly regained his footing, struggling to stand steady.
Determination ignited in his eyes as he declared, "If this isn't enough, then I will hasten my growth even more."
Adopting the running stance he had witnessed Vanta employ in a previous duel, Mizar swiftly dashed towards Abel, accelerating at an astonishing speed.
Within moments, he closed the distance between them, reaching his opponent with remarkable agility.
*Fireball!" he exclaimed as he approached his target.
He directed a small fireball towards Abel's face, adjusting both its size and temperature to be significantly lower. Despite its reduced intensity, the fireball still possessed a formidable power.
However, much to his dismay, the fireball was swiftly extinguished, failing to halt its movement.
Undeterred, Mizar emerged from the dissipating smoke and managed to seize Abel, firmly clinging onto him. Determined to earn his brother's approval, he tightened his grip on Abel, displaying a profound sense of desperation.
"What are you doing?" Abel couldn't comprehend why his brother was being so stubborn. Mizar had always been a headstrong individual, but he had never witnessed this level of desperation from him before.
In that pivotal moment, just as everything seemed on the brink of conclusion, Abel sensed something extraordinary. It emanated from his brother—an outpouring surge of mana flowing freely from Mizar's very core, not confined by the protective membrane.
From within, the mana coursed through the newly opened channel, gushing outward and enveloping Mizar's entire being. His body became cloaked in a veil of raw energy, as the mana permeated his every pore.
Abel's understanding of the situation was crystal clear. The mana that now permeated Mizar's body was undergoing a profound transformation, seeping and transferring into Abel's body instead.
Motivated by his newfound power, Mizar made an audacious move—he endeavored to harness the same magic Abel had once employed on their friend.
This particular magic, unlike elemental-based spells, belonged to the neutral category, devoid of any reliance on elemental forces. As he cast the spell, a sensation akin to an electric shock surged forth, creeping through the air with a jolt, reminiscent of a high-voltage lightning strike.
"Mizar... It can't be.." Abel said, in a mix of disbelief and concern evident in his voice.
It became clear to Abel what Mizar had attempted—a replication of the devastating "Shock" magic that had brought down Ridley.
As Mizar unleashed the attack, the air crackled with a disconcerting and familiar tingling sensation.
Accompanying this phenomenon was the distinctive popping sound that had become synonymous with the power he wielded. The ambient energy in the surroundings seemed to shift, charged with anticipation, as the attack surged forth.
However, to Abel's relief, his protective membrane remained intact, swiftly absorbing the majority of the mana released by the spell. Consequently, the membrane shielded Abel from the full force of the shock, preventing any harm from befalling him.
"What you've accomplished is undeniably extraordinary. However, our agreement stipulated that you must successfully land a hit on me in order to participate in the tournament. Therefore, despite this remarkable improvement, you still lose, Mizar."
Despite the incredible progress Mizar had made, the unfortunate truth remained—they had been defeated. Presently, there seemed to be no recourse or options available to alter their current situation
"We surrender!" Vanta's voice rang out from behind.
Having regained consciousness, he didn't want to witness his friends continue to struggle and suffer in vain.
"There's no longer a need to prolong this any further," Vanta declared with a defeated tone.
He acknowledged their defeat in the wager against Abel and vowed that he, along with the others, would no longer participate in the tournament. The admission carried a sense of finality, accepting the outcome with a heavy heart.
"It's over..." Mizar's voice quivered with anguish, his words heavy with a deep sense of defeat.
They tried so far and fought so hard. But in the end it doesn't even matter.
They still lose the duel despite their maximum effort.
"Argh... That hurt like hell," Vanta complained, his voice laced with both pain and frustration. The discomfort he experienced was evident in his expression and the way he winced at the lingering ache.
One by one, the boys gradually regained consciousness, their senses returning to them. As their eyes flickered open, a stark realization struck them with force—their earlier hopes had been dashed, and the evidence of their loss surrounded them. The truth was now undeniable, etched in the defeated expressions that mirrored each other's faces.
The facility staff came down to help them get recovered and attend to their wounds.
The facility staff swiftly descended upon them, providing aid and assistance to help them recover from the ordeal. With care and expertise, the staff attended to their wounds, ensuring that their injuries were properly tended to.
The spectator, Axel, made his way down to where the boys were being tended to. Concern etched across his face, he approached them with a mixture of worry and regret evident in his voice.
"Are you alright? He truly goes all out in his duels. Perhaps I should have warned you before you faced him," Axel expressed, his tone filled with a tinge of self-blame.
He understood the consequences of underestimating their opponent, realizing that he could have provided them with crucial information to better prepare for the encounter.
As the boys sat together, receiving care from the attending staff, they could sense Axel's lingering sense of guilt. However, a shared understanding passed between them, recognizing that their defeat was not Axel's fault.
"We're alright, Axel. We simply lost. There's no need for you to carry any burden," one of the boys reassured, their voice filled with a sense of acceptance. They acknowledged that losses were part of the journey, and in this particular instance, it was simply their turn to experience defeat.
In their unity, the boys conveyed that there was no need for pity or worry, as they accepted the outcome with grace.
Abel approached the boys, making his way to where they sat. He stood before them, looking down with a mixture of regret and sincerity in his eyes, as if he wanted to convey something important. The air hung heavy with anticipation, as everyone awaited his words, unsure of what he was about to express.
"I apologize for getting carried away in our fight," Abel said sincerely, bowing before the boys.
"I take full responsibility for the damage caused during this duel, as well as for the cards that were used. In addition, as a gesture of reconciliation, I am willing to grant one wish to each of you, except the wish to participate in the tournament. Please accept my heartfelt apologies for my ignorance and lack of consideration."
His words carried a genuine remorse, and his commitment to rectify the situation was evident.
Abel sought to make amends for the unintended consequences of their duel, offering reparations and a gesture of goodwill to express his sincere regret.
"We accept your apology," they replied in unison, their voices resonating with understanding and forgiveness. A brief moment of silence enveloped them as they exchanged glances, contemplating what they should ask for as their wish from Abel.
Breaking the stillness, Mizar spoke up, his voice carrying a hint of hope.
"Actually, there is something we wants," he began, capturing the attention of everyone present.
The air crackled with anticipation, eager to hear the words that would follow.