Arlon and Orlen stood face-to-face in the arena, their surroundings steeped in a tense silence.
The students, including the players, watched intently, sensing that this match could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Orlen's reputation as a near-legendary mage and Arlon's earlier display had raised expectations to a fever pitch.
Even though there isn't much information, it says "leg" among his weaknesses. I need to find out what it is, Arlon thought, his mind racing as he strategized.
"Are you ready?" Orlen asked, his tone calm but commanding.
"Yes," Arlon replied, his voice steady.
He unsheathed Aetherion's Edge once again, and this time, the onlookers took a much closer look.
Though none of them could identify it, the sword's aura left no doubt—it was enchanted, and immensely so.
"Let's start. You can go first," Orlen said with a faint smile.
And the match began...
For several moments, neither of them moved.
