In the dense shadows beyond the city walls, three hooded figures gathered, their faces concealed by darkness. The first, an impossibly tall figure, emanated a chilling aura, his presence alone seeming to sap the warmth from the air. The second figure, slightly hunched, held an air of subservience, head bowed in deference. The final figure, much smaller—about the size of a young teenager—spoke first, his voice reverberating softly in the quiet.
"Lancer," he greeted, his tone laced with respect. "Everything proceeds according to plan. The targets will be primed for extraction within a few days' time."
The towering figure, Lancer, inclined his head in acknowledgment, his voice emerging as a low, resonant echo, like a distant rumble from the depths of a cavern. "Good. Ensure that all arrangements are carried out without error. We shall make our own preparations as well."
The smaller figure hesitated, glancing up cautiously. "And the leaders, my lord? How do you intend to manage such… obstacles?"
Lancer's gaze fell upon him, the silent weight of his regard stifling. "Leave that concern to me. Attend solely to your task. The leaders will not pose a problem… provided you perform as required."
Without further word, Lancer and his servant melted into the shadows, leaving the lone, hooded figure behind. A chuckle slipped from his lips, dark and amused. "Ah… this will be interesting indeed."
With a final, lingering glance toward the city, he, too, vanished, dissolving into the night.
As the final eight competitors took to the center of the arena, the excitement in the air was palpable. Alaric leaned forward, his voice booming over the crowd. "The tournament has brought us thrilling battles these past three days, and now we're down to the last eight! Representing Myrria, we have Elara, Riven, Thalia, and Zayn—the underdogs who've managed to take out most of Ishaya's finest!"
Luna, the co-commentator, chimed in, her voice both calm and insightful. "Yes, Alaric, and it's been fascinating to see Myrria's young mages excel in ways no one anticipated. Each of them has shown not only skill but a remarkable determination to adapt, especially in the face of Ishaya's raw power."
"Speaking of skill," Alaric continued with a grin, "we've also got the lone swordsman from Atheria, Brynn, whose incredible swordsmanship has made him a crowd favorite. He's proven that adaptability is as valuable as sheer strength!"
Luna nodded, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the remaining competitors. "Indeed. And let's not forget Rya of Celestria. Her unique magic has bewildered her opponents so far, making traditional combat almost useless against her."
Alaric's eyes sparkled as he moved on to the final two. "Of course, from Ishaya, we have Uraam, whose speed and sheer power have been a terror to his opponents. And then… there's Sang."
Luna leaned forward, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity. "Yes, Sang. He's the real mystery here, Alaric. Unlike the others, he hasn't needed to display his full abilities—his opponents haven't even managed to land a single blow before they're down. It's as though his magic is—"
"—unreadable," Alaric finished, nodding in agreement. "Even the Spirit Queen herself seems intrigued."
On cue, Luna's attention turned to the Spirit Queen, her gaze trained intently on Sang, as if studying an enigma. "Look at her, Alaric. She's not one to observe with such intensity unless she sees something… out of the ordinary."
Sang's eyes shifted, clearly sensing the weight of the Spirit Queen's gaze. He seemed briefly unsettled but regained his composure as she looked away.
Alaric grinned as he prepared to announce the matchups. "Well, folks, the wait is over! Without further ado, let the finals begin! Our first match is Zayn of Myrria facing Sang of Ishaya! And in the second arena, Thalia of Myrria will go up against Uraam of Ishaya."
Luna's eyes sparkled with excitement. "These are matchups worthy of the finals. Zayn's versatility and quick thinking against the mysterious Sang… and then Thalia's impregnable defense against the ferocity of Uraam. This is going to be one for the books!"
With a nod, Alaric raised his hand to signal the start, his voice rising over the crowd's cheers. "Competitors, take your places!"
Standing across from Sang in the now-familiar arena, Zayn broke into a small smile. "So, we meet again," he began, his tone light. "I've been looking forward to this one. You gonna tell me what kind of magic you're using?"
Sang chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That'd spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?"
Zayn let out an exaggerated groan. "Come on, just a hint?"
Sang's gaze shifted, his expression almost thoughtful. In a low voice, he muttered, "You probably wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain."
Zayn tilted his head. "Did you say something?"
Sang waved him off. "Just mumbling to myself. Don't worry about it."
Alaric's voice rang out, breaking their exchange. "Ready yourselves, competitors—let the match begin!"
Zayn barely waited a heartbeat before tapping into his magic, activating Dual Focus and Rapid Mind. His thoughts started racing at 500 times normal speed, and his surroundings seemed to slow to a crawl. [Vector control activated. All vectors in sight displayed.]
Tiny arrows filled his field of vision as he tracked Sang's every movement, noting even the smallest shift in posture.
[ Combat settings optimized. Recommend maintaining mid-range distance until target's magical parameters are identified.]
"Good plan," Zayn muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he watched him with focused intensity.
Zayn focused, but a strange sensation washed over him. The vectors around Sang had all shifted, every arrow surrounding him stilling into motionless points. "No way…" Zayn muttered in shock.
[ Subject has halted all vectors within proximity.]
"Seriously?" Zayn muttered under his breath, gripping his sword tighter. "What kind of magic does that?"
He activated Rapid Mind at full throttle, pushing his thoughts to 500 times normal speed. This wasn't the moment to hold back; whatever Sang was doing, it was beyond any opponent he'd faced so far. With his body surging with vector-enhanced strength, Zayn closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, swinging his sword in a precise arc at Sang.
To his surprise, Sang barely blinked, easily stepping aside. A calm smile flickered across his face as he dodged Zayn's strike.
From the sidelines, Alaric's voice sounded over the crowd. "An unexpected turn—Sang letting his opponent take the first swing! Could this be part of a larger strategy?"
Sang retreated a few meters, observing Zayn with a soft smile. "You're faster than I expected," he commented lightly.
"Had to give it my all," Zayn replied, his breath already a bit heavier. "I know how strong you are."
Sang let out a chuckle. "You think I'm strong? I'm really not," he replied, almost self-deprecatingly. Zayn swung at him again, and Sang sidestepped, easily evading every strike Zayn threw his way.
Each dodge was so smooth it barely looked like Sang was moving, as though Zayn's attacks were simply passing through thin air. The fight wore on, and Zayn could feel himself draining rapidly. He'd pushed his magic to its peak, and even with the system's support, it was exhausting to sustain.
With an almost resigned look, Sang gave a quiet sigh. "It's time to end this."
Zayn narrowed his eyes, preparing for any shift in Sang's magic. His voice was calm but had an undertone of finality. "Your magic… it's strong, versatile. But it won't be enough."
Zayn tightened his grip. "What's that supposed to mean?"
But then, something felt terribly wrong. His entire body seemed locked in place, his limbs unresponsive. He could feel the vectors in his vision still active, but he couldn't command them, even with all his might.
"Huh?" Zayn's heart pounded as he realized he couldn't move. "What… what's happening?"
Sang shook his head. "It was over before it even began," he said softly, stepping forward. In a fluid motion, he struck, landing a precise blow that sent Zayn crashing to the ground, his vision blurring. The world around him faded as he lost consciousness.
From the stands, a stunned silence hung over the audience before Alaric's voice broke through. "And that concludes the match! Sang of Ishaya stands victorious!"
Zayn's eyes fluttered open, his vision slowly clearing as the familiar light of healing magic worked through him. He blinked up, disoriented, to see Sang standing over him, a hand extended with a friendly smile.
"Good fight," he said lightly, pulling him to his feet.
"Yeah, thanks," Zayn muttered, rubbing his neck. The memory of the last few seconds lingered, and he glanced up, eyebrows furrowed. "Seriously though, what is your magic?"
Sang chuckled, his gaze flickering with amusement. " I'm a Blue Mage."
He squinted at him, crossing his arms. "Yeah, but that doesn't really explain much," he pressed.
Sang shrugged, looking away with a slight grin. "Let's just say… all attacks against me become nothing."
Zayn blinked, trying to wrap his head around that. "You're making it sound like void magic."
Sang shook his head. "They're similar, but… fundamentally different. Mine works a bit differently."
"You're just trying to sound mysterious, aren't you?"
Sang laughed, stepping back. "Maybe," he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "But hey—maybe you'll get another clue sometime soon."
Near the looming walls of the capital, Lancer stood cloaked in shadow, his imposing form surrounded by figures in dark robes. His voice was calm, low, yet charged with a certain foreboding.
"The signal has been given," he stated, his gaze scanning each hooded face.
The figures before him bowed in silent acknowledgment before dispersing like whispers. Lancer watched them go, a shadow of a smile showing beneath his hood as he turned toward the city. It has been a long time coming, Alcor for us to rise.
He disappeared into the darkness, his path set toward the heart of the city—and the arena.
Back in the arena, Zayn was mid-laughter with Sang when a massive, ear-splitting explosion shook the entire capital. They staggered, eyes wide as thick smoke rose in plumes around them, filling the air with alarmed shouts and screams.
Zayn's heart raced. "What was that?!" he shouted, his gaze snapping to Sang.
Sang's eyes had narrowed, focused on the chaos unfolding around them, his lighthearted demeanor replaced by something wary. But Zayn was already moving towards his friends.
Then, from above, a blazing red figure, glowing like a meteor, tore down from the sky, crashing into the center of the arena with a deafening impact. Flames and dust erupted, the force rippling through the ground. The Silver Mages sprang into action, casting shimmering barriers to shield the audience from the devastating shockwave.
As the dust settled, a lone hooded figure stood in the center of the arena, face hidden yet unmistakably facing the leaders from across the nations.