The arena was deathly quiet. The audience, still reeling from what they had just witnessed, couldn't find the words. For several long moments, no one moved, no one spoke. The only sound that filled the space was the soft crackle of dying embers, a stark contrast to the roaring flames that had filled the battlefield just moments ago.
Then, slowly but surely, a murmur spread through the crowd. It began as a soft rustle of voices, then grew louder, building in intensity until it became a wave of sound that washed over the arena. The sound was deafening, a wave of applause and cries of disbelief washing over the arena. One thing was clear to everyone in attendance: Alexander was no ordinary mage. The rumors about him being weak, a nobody, were shattered in an instant.
In the stands, Elara rose to her feet, cheered and celebrated Alexander's victory. Lira, who had always believed in his strength, also smiled, her eyes filled with pride and admiration. But amidst the roaring applause and the overwhelming cheers, Tomas sat still, his expression tense and his brow furrowed in concern. "Tomas, what's wrong?" Lira, who was standing by, immediately noticed.
"Something is wrong!" Thanks to the ancient magic book he had acquired at the auction, Tomas had mastered the intricate healing techniques of House Aqua. These techniques not only allowed him to heal wounds but also granted him the ability to perceive the flow of magic within others. His mind focused, he activated his magic sense, his vision shifting as the faint glow of magic power came into view.
Despite Roderick's lifeless appearance, the magic circuits in his body were still active, and the magical energy gathering within him, slowly but surely accumulating in his core. "Roderick's still gathering magic!"
Lira's heart raced, panic gripping her as she realized what was happening. Without wasting another second, she leaned forward, pushing through the excited crowd, her voice rising above the clamor. "Alexander! Be careful! This is not over!" She shouted, her tone filled with urgency. But her voice was drowned out by the deafening cheers of the crowd.
In the field, Alexander felt the familiar pang of exhaustion, sweat trickled down his temple, his mind ached from the exertion of controlling his magic. He rubbed his forehead, hoping the fatigue would pass, and his eyes, however, never left Roderick's motionless body.
Seeing that Roderick had indeed fallen unconscious, Alexander allowed himself a moment of relief. He turned, scanning the field for the duel master to signal the end of the fight.
But before Alexander could take another step, a sudden and chilling sensation crawled up his spine. It was an instinct, an awareness of something dangerous lurking just out of sight. Without hesitation, he conjured a magic barrier and leaped backward, his reflexes guiding him as his left hand conjured a fireball, and hurled it toward where Roderick had been lying.
After the previous grueling battle, his magic reserves were low, and a significant portion of what he had left was tied up in keeping the dark energy within him suppressed. This left him with little choice. High-level spells were out of the question. The raw, destructive power he had relied on before was now beyond his reach. All he could manage were basic, low-consumption spells—simple magic that required less energy.
The fireball sped through the air, a glowing ball of flame that exploded on impact, the resulting explosion of flame enveloped the space where Roderick lay. Smoke billowed into the sky, obscuring the target space momentarily.
Alexander held his breath, watching the flames and smoke closely. But as they cleared, revealing the smoldering ground where Roderick had once been, his heart sank. Roderick's body was gone. Only a shattered vial lay in his place, glittering faintly in the charred dirt.
At the same time, a sudden movement from Alexander's left caught his attention, he glanced to the left and then his pupils shrank. Roderick appeared, his severely burned, blackened form moving with impossible speed. Before he could react, in an instant, Roderick's right leg lashed out like a whip, colliding with Alexander's abdomen.
Even with the protective barrier in place, the force of the kick was immense. Alexander felt the sheer impact against his abdomen, the blow sending shockwaves through his body. The air was knocked from his lungs, and the next thing he knew, he was flying backward, his body tumbling through the air. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the dirt and kicking up a thick cloud of dust and smoke as he went.
The deafening cheers of the crowd gone die instantly and the arena fell silent. The crowd, who had moments before been celebrating Alexander's apparent victory, now sat in stunned disbelief. No one had expected this. Roderick, who had seemed all but defeated, had returned to the fight with terrifying speed and strength. From her seat, Lira's face paled. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched Alexander fall, her hands gripping the edge of her seat so tightly her knuckles turned white.
In the haze of dust, Alexander slowly pushed himself up, his body aching from the blow. His head spun with dizziness, but he shook it off, relieved to find that despite the impact, his barrier had absorbed most of the damage. He was bruised, and his body throbbed with pain, but there were no serious injuries.
Across the battlefield, Roderick stood tall, performing slow, deliberate stretches. His body was covered in burns, but the skin underneath was rapidly healing, the wounds closing at an unnatural rate. Now wearing only combat shorts, his bare torso glistened with sweat, his muscular physique was on full display, the defined lines of his eight abdominal muscles clearly visible. His entire body seemed to radiate with raw power, muscles taut and ready for the next strike.
"He's healing too fast," Elara muttered to herself, her eyes wide with disbelief. She had seen Roderick's combat ability before, but never like this. "A fighter, a weapon."
His magic sense still active, he could see the flow of magic coursing through Roderick's body in ways he hadn't anticipated. Roderick's magic wasn't being used for elaborate spells—it was being funneled into his muscles, his bones, his very core. In Tomas's heightened vision, he could see the magic gathering in Roderick's heart, the powerful organ acting like a pump, compressing the energy and distributing it to every corner of his body, enhancing his every movement.
Meanwhile, Dorian, who had been lounging casually throughout most of the duel, was now sitting upright, his usual cynicism had faded, his previous smirk replaced with a more serious expression. He raised a hand, and the woman seated beside him immediately stood and withdrew, understanding the gravity of the situation without a word.
"Lucian… how much are you hiding from us?" Dorian muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied Roderick's movements.