As the sun reached its peak, Amukelo stepped into the grand Coliseum, his face focused and calm. The roar of the crowd echoed in his ears as he squared off against his first opponent, Gurk, a hulking orc with axes in both hands.
Amukelo danced swiftly around his opponent, his twin swords flashing. He unleashed a Blade Cyclone, a whirlwind attack that aimed for the orc's exposed flanks. Gurk, however, was a rock, parrying and countering, his strength evident in every swing.
"Strong," Amukelo muttered to himself, flipping backward to gain distance. He then activated Swift Gale, boosting his agility temporarily, and used this burst of speed to close in, cutting at Gurk with a precision strike.
As Amukelo stepped out of the arena, sweat visible on his brow but his face calm, Eliss rushed to him with a cloth and water flask, her eyes reflecting pride. "That move, was amazing!" she complimented.
"Thanks. He was a mountain, though," Amukelo grinned, "Made me work for it."
. . .
Next up was Kael. His opponent, an elven archer named Lireal, was known for his unparalleled accuracy and lightning-fast reflexes.
As the signal for commencement was given, Lireal nocked an arrow and fired, but Kael was prepared. He launched into an acrobatic spin, using his new skill, Deflecting Wind, to alter the arrow's course just enough to make it harmless.
With a determined look in his eyes, Kael charged forward, closing the gap between him and the archer. Sensing the urgency, Lireal drew a short sword, prepared to meet Kael's assault.
Kael didn't hesitate. He activated Energy Pull and, as Lireal was caught slightly off balance, Kael struck decisively, securing his own victory.
As Kael stepped back from the duel, he was met with the hearty claps of Amukelo and the bright smile of Eliss. "Impressive use of Energy Pull, Kael," Amukelo said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Seems you've really taken a liking to it."
Kael chuckled, "It's a useful trick, isn't it?"
. . .
As the day wore on, it was Lyon's turn to take the stage. The crowd was eager to see the spear master in action. His opponent was a dwarf known for his unmatched defense, Burlok Shieldbearer.
Lyon moved with a grace that belied his weapon's length. He swung his spear in flowing, elegant motions, each strike aimed to find a crack in Burlok's defenses. The dwarf, true to his name, was like a fortress, blocking every thrust and slash with his massive shield.
But Lyon was patient, his face a mask of concentration. He finally saw his opening when Burlok launched a counterattack. In a lightning move, Lyon spun his spear, using a technique he called Viper's Lash, and struck the dwarf on the exposed side, taking the match.
As Lyon walked back, he was greeted by the approving nods of his companions. "A spear in your hands is like watching a painter with a brush," Amukelo praised, his respect clear in his voice.
Lyon chuckled warmly. "Every fight is an art, my friend. Every move, a stroke."
. . .
The atmosphere grew tense as Eliss stepped onto the sands of the coliseum. Her opponent was an elven mage named Lyrial, known for her powerful elemental magic.
Eliss, focused and steady, raised her staff. As Lyrial conjured a torrent of flames towards her, Eliss countered masterfully with her new spell, Aqua Barrier, turning the flames into harmless steam.
Seizing the initiative, Eliss summoned her Phoenix, a grand fiery bird that took to the sky above her. The crowd gasped in awe at the magnificent creature, its wings spreading wide as if to embrace the entire arena.
Lyrial, not to be outdone, summoned a tempest, the winds howling and twisting. But Eliss was prepared; she cast Temporal Chains, slowing the tempest's approach significantly.
With her Phoenix diving through the slowed storm like a fiery comet, it struck Lyrial's defensive magic and shattered it, winning Eliss her duel.
As she made her way back to her friends, she was met with warm praise. "That Phoenix," Kael breathed, "is nothing short of spectacular, Eliss."
As the dust settled from Eliss's match, all eyes turned to Ksara, Elandria's leading mage prodigy. Her opponent, a seasoned elven mage named Seliora, was draped in robes that shimmered with the colors of the northern lights. Known for her illusory magic, she had defeated many by weaving webs of deception around them.
. . .
Ksara, faced Seliora, an elven mage renowned for her illusory magic. As Seliora unleashed a horde of illusionary dragons, Ksara calmly cast Visionary Clarity, seeing through the illusions. She then countered with her Astral Reflectors, redirecting Seliora's arcane missiles back towards her. The decisive moment came when Ksara invoked Ether Chains and Mystical Drain, binding Seliora and sapping her energy until she yielded.
"Victory for Ksara!" the announcer proclaimed as the crowd erupted in applause.
. . .
Days passed, and the city buzzed with anticipation. The grand coliseum was packed to the brim as the elder draconian took center stage once more. His powerful voice, augmented by magic, carried to every corner of the venue.
"Citizens of the four great races, and esteemed guests from lands near and far," he began, "the individual eliminations, a test of personal prowess and skill, have come to an end. Today, I stand before you to present the official results of these intense and awe-inspiring battles."
He paused for effect, allowing the tension to build before continuing.
"In leading position are the Humans of Elandria, with a commendable eleven points out of a possible fifteen. They demonstrated exceptional strategy, skill, and determination," he announced, nodding respectfully towards Amukelo and Lyon. "Their performance was marked by two perfect scores, a testament to their rigorous training and innate talent."
The human section of the audience erupted into cheers and applause, pride radiating from their faces.
"Following closely are the formidable Orcs, who have proven their might and tenacity with a total of nine points," he continued. The orc supporters in the crowd responded with hearty roars of approval, beating their chests in a display of pride.
"With elegance and deep connection to the arcane, the Elves have earned six points," the draconian announced, eliciting a graceful, albeit reserved, acknowledgment from the elven spectators.
"And lastly, the steadfast Dwarfs, masters of craft and combat, stand with four points," he concluded. The dwarven audience members stayed silently, some of them left the colosseum.
The elder draconian's eyes swept across the crowd as he continued: "The next phase is a grand team battle, where unity, strategy, and cooperation will be the keys to victory. It is here we will see which race will earn the divine blessing of the Draconian God, a prize that promises prosperity and growth."
With a final, dramatic pause, he declared, "Prepare yourselves, for the most thrilling chapter of the Royal Tournament awaits."