"Greetings, esteemed audience and students," Cynthia Goodsky announced, her gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd. "Today, we continue our International Tournament with duel matches. Please turn your attention to the youth bracket!"
I glanced at the tournament board and saw that I was slated to fight last. My opponent caught my attention—it was Claire Bladehart. Just yesterday, we were on the same team, and now we were about to become rivals. My intuition hadn't failed me.
Above our pairing, the match between Nika Earthborn and Theodore Maxwell was listed. Feirit Ivsaar had lucked out—he automatically advanced to the next stage, gaining some extra recovery time before his next fight.
The first match was set between Arthur Leywin and Alexandra Mackina. From the stands, I watched the arena, waiting, until finally, I saw a chestnut-haired boy with striking blue eyes and a sword at his waist step onto the field. The absence of his usual beast companion unsettled me slightly. Scanning the crowd, I spotted his loud family.
A beautiful middle-aged woman with the same chestnut hair, a bearded man with ashen locks, and a little girl with a high-pitched voice, clutching a small black creature resembling a lizard tightly in her arms. That had to be Arthur Leywin, the protagonist of this world.
My heart raced. Seeing him in person, he looked just as described in the novel. With his handsome, almost androgynous features, he attracted stares and admiration. Like the embodiment of an ideal, he stood in the arena, ready to prove his strength.
I chuckled softly, exhaling in relief. Thankfully, my arrival hadn't drastically altered this boy's fate. I knew the challenges he would face in the future, and I wanted to help him. Not just because he was the protagonist, but because I saw him as someone who would endure immense trials.
But I needed strength too. If I wanted a peaceful life and the ability to protect those dear to me, I had to grow stronger. I already knew what awaited me, and if I wasn't prepared, who would defend me and my loved ones?
Arthur stood in the arena with cold confidence, his gaze scanning his opponent without betraying a hint of emotion. Alexandra Mackina—a tall girl with short black hair and pointed ears, armed with a long staff—had already taken her position. The arena was silent, save for the hum of magical barriers activating to protect the spectators, signaling the imminent clash.
The referee gave the signal to begin. Alexandra immediately began weaving a spell, her staff glowing with a soft blue light. Moments later, several water bullets shot toward Arthur. However, he didn't even flinch. With a swift motion, he unsheathed his sword and sliced through them effortlessly, as if in slow motion.
Arthur moved with no hesitation, his motions fluid, precise, and incredibly powerful—like the very air bent to his will.
He swung his sword, sending a barely visible wave of air toward Alexandra. Her water barrier shattered under the force, and she was thrown back, barely maintaining her balance. This wasn't just magic—it was power concentrated in every movement, mastery in every strike.
Arthur was the embodiment of strength, and every step he took seemed calculated, as if he already knew every possible outcome of the battle. Alexandra realized she couldn't breach his defense with magic alone. Refocusing, she changed tactics. But he anticipated her intentions, darting forward in an instant, leaving only a faint web of cracks on the ground behind him.
With one precise strike, her staff splintered into pieces. Alexandra fell to her knees, drenched in her own spell's water. Arthur stopped just a step away, his sword poised at her throat.
"I yield," Alexandra gasped, her breath heavy as she admitted defeat.
Arthur slowly lowered his sword, then offered her a hand to help her stand. He said nothing, but his confidence spoke volumes. The audience erupted into applause. It was a magnificent display, and everyone knew they had witnessed a true genius in action.
I exhaled. This match demonstrated just how formidable Arthur Leywin was. His skills and composure in battle exceeded all expectations. Though I still had time before my duel with Claire, I now fully realized Arthur's strength, even in his current restrained form.
"Uh, do I really have to fight him?!" Feirit—or Feifei—exclaimed, trembling. I felt sorry for him and merely patted him on the shoulder, wishing him luck, though I knew he didn't stand a chance.
"You're right, Lucius! I can do this!" Feifei declared with forced determination.
I simply smirked and continued watching the other matches. While they weren't as swift or spectacular, they still held moments of thrill. Darius Volhem and Theodore Maxwell advanced to the next stage. Finally, it was my turn to face Claire.
Stepping onto the arena, I waved at Claire. She smiled back and waved, exuding confidence, though a hint of nervousness flickered in her eyes. Our fight promised to be challenging: yesterday's allies, today's opponents vying for victory. The tension grew as the arena seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
The referee announced the start of the duel, and all stray thoughts vanished. I focused entirely on Claire's every move, knowing she would give her all. She started with her signature technique—channeling mana into her blade's tip and unleashing a gust of wind aimed straight at me.
I dodged to the side, avoiding the first strike, and counterattacked, rushing forward. My strength lay in speed and precision in close combat, and I intended to capitalize on it. Claire knew this and immediately created a wall of fire between us, forcing me to halt momentarily. The heat hit my face, making it clear I couldn't simply push through the flames.
"Keeping your distance?" I teased, circling the barrier. "Let's see how long you can keep that up."
Claire responded swiftly. Her hands glowed again, and this time, fiery bullets exploded upon impact with the ground around me. I dodged, feeling the heat from each explosion, until I closed the distance enough to strike. My sword flashed, but uneven footing caused my blow to miss its mark as Claire slipped away.
"Fast," I muttered, continuing my assault. She hadn't gone all out yesterday. My strikes were precise, but Claire was agile and fully aware of my tactics. She parried, avoided direct clashes, and countered with fire and wind bursts, forcing me to play by her rules.
We exchanged blows, maneuvering across the arena like dancers moving to their rhythms. I sought a gap in her defenses, while she refused to let me close in, keeping me on the defensive.
At one point, I caught her arm and knocked away her fiery charge, but Claire quickly countered, driving her knee into my side and forcing me to release my grip.
"Don't think I'll give up that easily," she grinned, retreating to a safe distance.
My heart pounded as I watched her determination. The resolve in her eyes only pushed me to fight harder.
Finally, I decided to end the battle in a single decisive strike. Channeling mana into my legs, I prepared to burst through her fiery barrier. Claire, sensing the critical moment, concentrated all her mana into her blade, transforming the flames into a light orange hue. She launched a powerful fireball, her strongest attack, directly at me.
I leaped aside, but the flames still grazed me, scorching my clothes. Closing the distance in an instant, I clenched my teeth and delivered a finishing blow, stopping my sword just at her neck, its edge lightly touching her skin.
"I yield," Claire whispered, exhaling with relief. Lowering my blade, I looked at her face, beads of sweat tracing paths down her forehead. The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers acknowledging the intense duel. We exchanged glances and smiled—not as rivals, but as warriors who had tested each other.
"You gave me a run for my money," Claire sighed with a hint of disappointment. "But when you dodged my final attack, I knew I couldn't win today."
She brushed back the hair stuck to her face and wiped her forehead. Despite her loss, her eyes burned with an unyielding fire. She was right—I had held back, relying solely on my swordsmanship, conserving my ranged mana techniques for future battles.
"You were close, Claire," I said, stepping closer. "Your last attack could have turned the tide. I just managed to evade at the last second."
She looked at me skeptically but nodded, understanding I wasn't revealing all my secrets.
"You're a true competitor, Lucius," she said with a smile. "I can't be angry with myself or you, knowing I gave it my all. But next time, I'll take my revenge."
"I'll look forward to it," I replied with a grin. We shook hands firmly, cementing our sportsmanship.
"Lucius, consider enrolling in the Xyrus Academy," Claire said suddenly, her tone serious. "I'm confident elves and dwarves will soon study alongside humans. This tournament is just the first step toward uniting our races."
Her foresight surprised me. How did she know about the coming unity of the three races? I kept silent, nodding thoughtfully as her words lingered in my mind.
Descending the arena stairs to the sound of thunderous applause, my mind buzzed with anticipation for the next stage.
We descended from the arena amidst loud applause, and Cynthia Goodsky greeted us, announcing a short break before the semifinal matches. Claire and I took our seats in the stands alongside the other participants, enjoying the brief respite.
"Who do you think is the most dangerous opponent now?" Claire asked, trying to pass the time.
"Arthur Leywin," I answered honestly. "His skills and composure in battle are impressive. He seems unbeatable."
"Agreed," Claire nodded, recalling his first match. "But don't forget, you're no pushover yourself, Lucius. You've got every chance. Just get past Theodore first. By the way, he's my classmate, so watch out! Hehe!"
I smirked and nodded, mentally preparing for the next challenge. I watched Claire as she walked toward her family. She hugged her mother with a warm smile, her eyes glowing with joy. Most of the spectators in the stands were parents, friends, or mentors of the participants — people who had come to support their loved ones. Amid this crowd, I felt a strange emptiness. Elves and dwarves were still not permitted to cross the borders until a formal agreement was announced.
I imagined how my own family might look in the stands: my sister clapping excitedly and my mother proudly watching my every move.
A sudden wave of longing enveloped me — a wish that my family could be here, sharing this moment with me. I exhaled, trying to suppress the unwelcome sadness.
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