The massive doors made of gold and adamantium slowly opened before the new students, revealing the majestic entrance hall. A gentle breeze, filled with palpable magical energy, greeted the students as they entered this sanctuary of knowledge.
Adults who appeared to be professors guided the students to the amphitheater.
Once in the hall, they saw the headmaster, Alistair Cromwell, standing at the center, an imposing and charismatic man in the prime of his life. His broad shoulders and powerful figure commanded respect. He stood before a gathering of students, his piercing gaze and imposing stature demanding attention. The lively discussions among the students gradually escalated as they awaited the beginning of the class. Mr. Cromwell, noticing the growing buzz, spoke in a voice that immediately filled the room.
"Silence!" he roared with a voice that could have shaken the walls. The echo of his authority resonated in the amphitheater, compelling the students to freeze.
Whispers faded as all eyes turned to the headmaster. Mr. Cromwell, with a powerful hand gesture, demanded the audience's complete attention. His scrutinizing gaze swept through the crowd of students, conveying a message of discipline and rigor.
"I am astonished to see that some among you believe your conversations can occupy my time," he stated, his imperious tone filling the space. "You are here to learn, not to endlessly debate trivial matters that have no place within these walls."
His sharp gaze swept across the room, reminding each individual of their position within this prestigious institution. A heavy silence fell, students submitting to the headmaster's unquestionable authority.
"I will not tolerate disrespect towards this institution or towards myself," he declared firmly. "Consider this a warning. Now, focus on what truly matters: your learning."
His proclamation was followed by absolute silence, marking the end of any commotion in the amphitheater. He could now begin his speech:
"Beginners, novices, and aspirants of magic, welcome to the Gammalon Academy!" His powerful and assured voice resonated throughout the hall. "You stand before these doors not only in search of knowledge but also in search of yourselves. Here, you will explore unknown horizons, push your limits, and discover the magic that lies within each of you."
His speech, rich in encouragement and promises of adventure, captivated the audience's attention. He spoke of power, responsibility, and the greatness of mastering magic. His passion for the art of sorcery shone through in every word spoken.
Erevan was familiar with Mr. Cromwell; he was one of the few mages of the 8th circle and his mentor in the future. They had fought together before Mr. Cromwell died in the final battle.
During this speech, Erevan also noticed Beomond Dusk, a young noble with an arrogant demeanor just because his father was the Duke of Dusk, surrounded by his clique of distinguished students. Their eyes briefly met, palpable tension lingering between them.
This animosity from Erevan stemmed from his knowledge of the future...
Once the speech ended and as students dispersed to their first classes, Beomond approached Erevan with a condescending smile.
"Well, well, it seems we have a low-born student daring to set foot here," Beomond taunted, looking superior.
Erevan, remaining calm and composed, replied, "And it seems we have here a wealthy noble, but lacking in humility."
Tension escalated between the two students, each displaying unwavering determination. "If you think you're so good, why don't we have a duel?" Erevan said with a hint of contempt.
"I have no problem with that, let's face each other," replied Beomond.
Thus, in the heart of the main hall of the Gammalon Academy, a brilliant magical circle formed on the floor, delineating the arena where the duel would take place. Excited students gathered in a circle around the perimeter, creating an electric atmosphere of tension and anticipation.
Erevan, calm and determined, stood on one side of the arena. His focus was palpable, his hand ready to invoke magic. Beomond, with a confident and arrogant air, faced his opponent, sure of his impending victory.
The murmurs of the crowd turned into a breathless silence as the signal for the start of the duel rang out. With a swift motion, Beomond unleashed a wave of flames towards Erevan. The latter dodged it with agility, but the fire left scorching marks on the ground.
Erevan retaliated by summoning a magical shield for protection, then concentrated his energy to channel a spell. A bright glow emanated from his palm as he prepared a counterattack.
Sure of his superiority, Beomond cast a series of offensive spells, each striking Erevan's magical shield. Magical sparks burst in the air, illuminating the arena with a dazzling light.
Suddenly, Erevan counterattacked, channeling mana into his 2nd circle, invoking the forces of darkness. Three skeletons emerged from the ground, their ghostly forms materializing with deliberate slowness, their empty eye sockets fixed on Beomond.
[Remaining Invocations: 7/10]
The ancient bones stirred, the skeletons advancing with a sinister and graceful gait towards their target. The audience held their breath as Beomond, surprised by this intervention, tried to find a way through the macabre entities.
Obeying Erevan's command, the three spectral creatures encircled Beomond, their skeletal hands outstretched towards him in a macabre dance. They acted as malevolent guardians, hindering Beomond's movements and preventing him from effectively retaliating.
The noble, caught off guard by this unexpected attack, desperately tried to free himself from the grip of the skeletons. However, under Erevan's masterful control, they held firmly, restricting his movements and limiting his options.
The worried murmur of the audience intensified as tension rose in the arena. All eyes were fixed on the duel, students exchanging excited whispers, impressed by Erevan's mastery of darkness and the difficulty of Beomond's situation.
Erevan's concentration also came from the fact that he was summoning a whirlwind of energy, forming a luminous sphere mingled with sparks of dark magic. The spell surged towards Beomond at lightning speed. Beomond, surprised by the power of the attack, tried to retaliate but was caught off guard by the swiftness of the enchantment.
The magical projectile struck Beomond head-on, propelling him against the hastily erected protection shield. The impact was brutal, sending Beomond crashing to the ground, out of breath.
The audience, impressed by Erevan's demonstration of magical skills, held their breath, astonished at the outcome of the duel. Beomond's arrogance had been challenged, while Erevan stood tall, controlling the outcome of the confrontation.
Erevan's victory was evident, marking the beginning of a new rivalry within the academy. The sound of animated discussions among the students filled the hall again, each one commenting on the duel that had just taken place, some admiring Erevan's mastery of magic, others speculating on future confrontations between the two opponents.
... Beomond was the traitor who caused the end of humanity.