The participants stood at the center of the arena's battleground, the atmosphere electric with excitement and anticipation. Students and faculty filled the stands, their eyes fixed on the five figures below. The duel everyone had been waiting for was finally about to begin. Reese stood facing the four third-year students—Albert, Edgar, Benedict, and Nathaniel—who were known as some of the best fighters in their year. The air buzzed with murmurs, bets being whispered, and predictions being made.
Julius, serving as an emergency healer, sat on the edge of his seat, his heart already pounding in his chest. His eyes were glued to Reese, a mixture of concern filling his gaze. He had seen her fight before and knew she was definitely not someone to be looked down on, but seeing her face off against the high-ranking students was different. He clenched his fists, the tension gnawing at him as he silently willed her to be careful.
The Headmaster raised his hand, and a hush fell over the crowd. "Begin!"
The signal dropped, and Albert was the first to strike. He moved with the speed and precision of someone who had honed his skills for years, his sword arcing toward Reese. The audience collectively gasped as Reese narrowly dodged, the blade slicing the air where she had stood a faction of a second earlier.
Julius felt his heart skip a beat, his pulse quickening as he saw the near miss. His grip tightened on the edge of his seat. The thrill of the duel washed over him, mingling with the fear of what could happen if she made even the slightest mistake.
Edgar was next, thrusting his sword toward Reese's midsection. The clang of steel against steel echoed across the arena as she parried, but the impact sent her stumbling back. The crowd was riveted, eyes darting from one fighter to the next. The third years had begun to circle Reese, their movements synchronized like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey.
Come on, Reese! You can do it!" a voice shouted from the stands, probably Cedric's, though it was quickly drowned out by the roars of support for the third years.
Reese seemed to be on the defensive, struggling to keep up with the barrage of attacks coming her way. Every swing, every thrust, was met with a hasty block or a narrow dodge. Sweat glistened on her brow, her movements appearing increasingly frantic. From the sidelines, it looked as though she was barely holding on, her opponents pressing in with relentless force.
Julius's heart hammered in his chest. Each time an opponent's blade came close to striking her, he felt a surge of fear. It was as if his own life was hanging in the balance with every clash of swords. He wanted to call out to her, to urge her to fight back, to tell her to be careful. But he remained silent, the words caught in his throat, drowned out by the roaring crowd around him. In his mind, he constantly prayed to God to keep Reese safe.
Albert sneered, his confidence growing with every swing that forced Reese to retreat. "Is this really all she's got?" he mocked, his voice carrying over the din of the arena. "Pathetic."
Edgar grinned beside him, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. "Looks like this commoner bit off more than she could chew."
The audience buzzed with excitement, many nodding in agreement. Reese was being pushed to her limits, her opponents closing in for what seemed to be the final blow. Forget about the chances of winning—it felt like a matter of concern whether she'd make it out in one piece after this duel. The four moved in perfect unison, their swords poised to strike. Reese's eyes darted from one to the next, as if searching for an opening that simply wasn't there. It was obvious she was losing, but the strange thing was that her gaze never wavered from her opponents.
Julius could hardly breathe, his chest tight with a mix of fear and something else he couldn't quite name. She, who had saved him from certain death like a guardian angel sent from heavens, why did she seem so weak here? The Reese he knew was better than this—could it be that he had misjudged her, or perhaps she wasn't in the right condition at this moment? It could be that the previous assessment in front of the Headmaster had consumed most of her energy. Whatever the reason, Julius still prayed for his savior's well-being from the bottom of his heart.
The four boys launched their coordinated attack, their swords cutting through the air in a deadly arc toward Reese. This was it—the moment they would end the fight. The crowd leaned forward in unison.
But then, in an instant, the arena's atmosphere shifted. Reese moved. Her sword met theirs with a resounding clash, not with the struggle of a cornered opponent but with the force of a storm breaking free. She not only blocked their attack but reflected it with such power that it sent a shockwave through the arena, pushing her attackers back and stumble, causing two of them to fall to the ground. Gasps erupted from the stands, disbelief spreading like wildfire through the crowd.
So, this is what the top students of the third year have to offer?" Reese's voice cut through the silence that followed, dripping with disdain. A smirk curved on her lips as she said, "I must admit, I'm quite disappointed."
A stunned silence fell over the arena, quickly replaced by murmurs of shock and confusion. Reese stood there, unscathed and unmoved, her demeanor now one of cold, calculated confidence. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing her true nature.
In fact, Reese had been toying with them all along.
"You arrogant—!" Benedict snarled, raising his sword for another attack.
"Don't let her get to you!" Nathaniel said. "She was hiding her power all this time. But we'll show her what we're really made of."
Her opponents, now visibly agitated, fixed their composure. Anger flashed in their eyes, and the crowd could sense the shift in their resolve. They had been humiliated in front of everyone, and they were now determined to reclaim their honor.
The crowd was on the edge of their seats, the excitement in the air almost tangible. They had no idea what to expect now, and that uncertainty made the duel even more thrilling. This time, the four boys charged with fury, their strikes more ferocious, their movements more aggressive and refined. But none of this really fazed Reese—she remained untouchable. Her movements seemed fluid and precise. It didn't look like she was fighting at all—it felt more like she was dancing on a dance floor with rhythm.
The audience leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation. Reese moved with grace, her sword a blur as she blocked each strike with ease. Her movements were graceful and smoothly calculated compared to the frantic, desperate attacks of her opponents. She was in complete control.
The fight went on like this for a while. Then the four third years halted for a moment. They exchanged quick glances and nodded, a silent agreement passing between them. They tapped into their mana, their swords now glowing like beacons in the arena. This was their final move—their ultimate technique.
They charged in unison, the ground shaking with the force of their combined power. They poured everything they had into this attack, their swords infused with mana radiating an eerie light.
The crowd held its breath, the noise falling to a hushed silence as they watched the final attack unfold.
But at the last possible moment, when all four surrounded her, attacking from every direction, Reese seemed to vanish. It was as if she had disappeared from the spot, leaving nothing but a gust of wind in her wake. The four boys stumbled forward, their swords slicing through empty air. Confusion etched across their faces as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"Where did she—" Albert began, but his words were cut short by a sharp, searing pain.
Before anyone could blink, Reese were already behind them. The audience gasped, many rubbing their eyes in disbelief. Her movements had been so fast, so precise, that it was as if she had teleported. The four boys stood frozen for a heartbeat before they crumpled to the ground, swords clattering beside them. Blood trickled down their skin, shallow cuts marking where Reese had struck with the precision of a master.
"Impossible..." Edgar gasped, his voice hoarse with disbelief and pain.
"You... how did you—" Nathaniel winced, clutching his arm. None of the four had the strength to move anymore. It was evident that the fight was finished, and there was no need to mention who the winner was.
Reese stood over them, her gaze cold. "Someone was saying they were going to show me 'what they're really made of.' I haven't seen much, though," she said, rolling her eyes, her voice carrying across the stunned silence of the arena. Then she chuckled—a laugh that carried a tone of arrogance. "Pathetic." She returned the exact same remark she had received a few minutes earlier.
The crowd erupted into chaos, a cacophony of shouts and gasps as they struggled to comprehend what had just happened. The top students, the best fighters of the third year, had been brought to their knees by a single girl. Reese Lysander had not just defeated them—she had obliterated their pride, shattered their arrogance, and done it all with a chilling calmness, not even expending a little mana. This left the audience, as well as all the professors, in awe.
Julius heaved a sigh of relief, a slow smile spreading across his face. His heart was still racing, but now it was filled with pride and excitement. Relief washed over him, mingled with awe and a surge of admiration. She had them all fooled in the first half of this fight, him included. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
Reese Lysander had done it, and she had done it in a way that none of them would ever forget.
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