The Duel Field was a legendary place in the academy, reserved for resolving conflicts in the most public and honorable way possible—through magic duels. It stood as a towering testament to the academy's history, much like the ancient Colosseum of Rome. The towering stone walls, weathered and cracked from years of magical battles, framed the open-air arena, with its grand circular design, tiered seating, and the scent of old stone that seemed to carry the weight of countless past conflicts.
Massive stone pillars circled the arena, carved from boulders, giving the place a simple yet awe-inspiring aura. Its grandstands could hold up to fifty thousand people, though the seats were rarely ever full, as all duels were between noble followers, which were familiar, a kind of routine power play. But today, things were different. Today, it looked as though every single seat was filled, because one of the duelists wasn't a noble at all.
Alexander, a commoner who had somehow captivated the attention of Lira Valen, would be going up against Roderick, one of Lucian Draven's most formidable followers. The noise of the crowd was deafening, a low hum of voices, some excited, others skeptical.
"Do you think Lucian Draven will show up this time? He didn't show up last time." a young woman whispered to her friend.
"I think today's different," a voice answered. "It's about Lira Valen. He's bound to care about that."
"Why aren't they talking about the duel itself?" someone asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Isn't that the point?"
"How can a commoner who came from nowhere win?"
"Yeah," another voice chimed in, "a commoner challenging a noble's follower? It's going to be a slaughter."
....
In the center of the duel arena, Roderick already stood there, tall, his posture rigid. His hand briefly brushed a small vial hidden within his robes, and his expression hardened with determination. Then Roderick's eyes narrowed as he stared at the other side of the arena, waiting for his opponent to appear. In the stands, Elara, Lira, and Tomas had already secured seats in the front row.
"Where's Alexander? He wouldn't dare show his face, would he?" a voice rang out from behind them, dripping with mockery.
"What a disappointment! It seems he's nothing but a waste!" sneered another voice, this time a nobleman's, his words laced with disdain. The comment sent a ripple of laughter through some of the onlookers.
"Shut your stinky mouth!" Elara's voice cut through the noise like a blade. Seated in the front row, she turned to glare at the offender.
The man's bravado quickly crumbled when he realized who was speaking and his gaze fell on the darkened face of Lira. Both representing powers far beyond what he could ever afford to provoke, he swallowed his words, sinking back into his seat with trepidation.
In the the waiting room beneath the arena, he could hear the crowd gathering above, through a small, barred window, louder than ever. With a deep breath, Alexander sighed, he knew that he'd been an outsider, since the day he arrived at the academy. And it wasn't until recently that anyone had started taking him seriously.
The duel was about more than just pride or status. It was about proving to everyone—and perhaps more importantly, to himself—that he wasn't just a commoner. That he could stand his ground and make a success in a world where bloodlines determined everything. He nodded, his resolve hardening, and then approached the stone steps leading up to the Duel Field.
The noise of the crowd in the stands was still very deafening. Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps echoed softly from the bluestone steps leading up to the arena. The rhythmic taps slowly grew louder, cutting through the chatter and causing the crowd to quiet down, one by one. A curious hush fell over the arena, as if everyone had suddenly sensed the arrival of something significant, all eyes turned toward the entrance.
Subtle footsteps echoed on the ancient stone, and a ripple seemed to move through the spectators as they turned to watch the lone figure ascending the steps. At that moment, the sun pierced through the misty clouds overhead, casting a golden beam onto the steps at the far end of the square. And there, bathed in the golden glow, a tall and slender figure emerged from the shadows. Alexander, dressed in the elegant magic robe symbolizing House Noctis, stepped forward with calm resolve, his presence commanding the attention of the entire arena.
From the stands, Elara, Tomas, and Lira watched with bated breath. Elara, always the most vocal, gripped the edge of her seat, her knuckles white. "Show them, Alexander," she muttered under her breath. "Show them who you really are." Tomas was quieter, but no less tense, his eyes darted between Alexander and Roderick.
Sitting closest to the edge, Lira's gaze never wavered from Alexander. Her eyes, filled with a mix of love and pride, followed his every movement. As he stepped onto the duel field, her heart beat in rhythm with his footsteps. With each stride he took, the feeling grew stronger, and she realized that she was falling deeply in love with him.
Finally, Alexander stopped a few feet away from Roderick, the vast, circular arena stretched out like a sea of stone, a perfect battleground for the magic that would soon be unleashed. His expression was unreadable, his eyes devoid of any emotion as they swept across the vast expanse of spectators. He walked with purpose, his every step calculated, until his gaze finally locked onto Roderick standing opposite him. Roderick's eyes met his, equally expressionless, though the tension between them was palpable.
Alexander took three slow, deliberate steps forward, his footfalls echoing across the stone beneath him. Then, without breaking his gaze, he raised his head, fixed his eyes on Roderick, and spoke softly but with clear resolve. "I'm here."
Simple, plain words floated over the vast duel field, stirring the once quiet atmosphere with a subtle ripple of unease. In the stands, countless students from the magic academy shifted in their seats, their eyes now fixed on the young man standing at the top of the stone steps.
Until today, few knew much about Alexander—he was just a civilian with no notable background, once on the verge of expulsion from the academy. Most hadn't even come to watch him. In their eyes, he had overestimated himself by standing against the prestigious Draven family, and his association with Lira Valen had only made him the subject of ridicule among many.
But now, as they observed the calm, composed figure in the face of such tens of thousands of people, some of the smarter students began to feel a little dignified in their hearts, after abandoning those negative emotions. Alexander's demeanor, his quiet confidence, didn't align with the image of the "useless waste" that had been so easily dismissed earlier. The way he carried himself, unwavering under the weight of tens of thousands of eyes, hinted at a strength that had been underestimated.
Roderick's lips curled into a sneer. "You should have stayed away, Alexander. This won't end well for you."
Alexander didn't respond. There was nothing more to say. The time for words had passed.