Clenching my hand on the wooden practice sword, I stared down my opponent. Terence's smug smile stretched across his face as if he'd already won. Confidence radiated from him, but to me, it was little more than arrogance. I tightened my grip, letting cold determination settle over me.
"Scared yet?" Terence taunted, his fiery red hair glinting under the sun. He tossed his sword lazily between his hands, as though this duel was just a formality. "I've been training my whole life, finally awakening my mana core at five. Been training every day since. Does that scare you?"
I raised my practice sword, meeting his gaze with an unflinching stare. "Good," I replied evenly. "If you're that strong, this should be interesting."
The referee stepped forward, raising his hand. "Begin!"
The instant the word left his mouth, I surged forward, my body propelled by the electric mana coursing through me. No hesitation, no room for him to gain momentum. Raising my hand, I cast a gravity spell directly onto Terence's sword.
His confident smirk faltered as his blade dipped in his hand, the unexpected weight pulling it downward.
"What the—?" he muttered, stumbling as he tried to adjust.
I closed in, my sword arcing toward his side, but Terence recovered quickly. His hand shot forward, conjuring a fireball that flew toward me.
"A distraction." I recognized the tactic instantly. Dodging the orb was easy enough, but my instincts screamed at me to stay alert. My eyes darted around, searching for the real attack.
Then I felt it—a cold, sinister force creeping up my legs. My shadow writhed unnaturally, twisting upward and binding me in place.
Terence laughed, his earlier frustration replaced with arrogance. "Not so fast now, are you? Looks like the 'young prodigy' isn't all that special."
Lightning mana crackled to life around me, the sharp, electric energy tearing through the shadow's hold. I stepped free, my glare fixed on him.
"Special enough," I said, my tone cutting.
Without giving him a chance to react, I cast another gravity spell—this time targeting Terence himself. The magic wasn't overwhelming, just enough to add about thirty percent to his weight. His knees bent slightly as he adjusted, his footing becoming heavier.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, trying to steady himself.
I didn't answer. Instead, I closed the distance, our wooden swords clashing in a flurry of strikes. His movements were sharp but reactive, each block slightly slower than the last. My strikes came harder and faster, forcing him to retreat step by step.
But this was all part of the plan.
As he adjusted to the slight increase in gravity, his movements began to smooth out, his confidence returning. That's when I struck. I briefly released the gravity magic—just long enough for his body to overcompensate for the sudden lightness—and then reapplied it with a sharp increase, roughly forty percent this time.
"What—!" Terence's voice rose in panic as his balance faltered. His body moved sluggishly, his sword barely rising in time to block the next strike.
Seizing the moment, I poured lightning mana into my final attack, the wooden blade glowing faintly as it crashed into his shoulder with overwhelming force. The blow sent him crumpling to the ground.
Silence fell over the arena.
Terence groaned, clutching his shoulder as he tried to push himself upright. His movements were slow, pained, and unsteady. His breath came in ragged gasps as he glared up at me.
"Still think this is easy?" I asked, lowering my sword but keeping it ready. "You can barely stand. Do you want to keep going?"
For a moment, it looked like he might try, his pride forcing him to consider another attempt. But the strain was too much. With a grimace, he let his head drop, his voice low and bitter.
"I yield," he muttered, the words barely audible over the murmurs in the crowd.
The referee stepped forward, raising his hand. "Winner: Nox!"
I stood over Terence for a moment, exhaling as the tension drained from my body. My gaze swept across the crowd, their faces a mix of shock, anger, and grudging respect. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Let them look. Let them wonder.
Terence groaned again, clutching his shoulder as he glared up at me. "You're... better than I thought," he muttered bitterly.
I looked down at him, my expression calm but firm. "You underestimated me. That was your mistake. Next time, focus more on the fight and less on talking."
As I turned and walked off the arena, the applause was faint but growing. My mother stood near the edge of the stands, her crimson eyes watching me closely. When I reached her, she gave a small, approving nod.
"Well done," she said simply.
I took my seat beside her, glancing back toward the arena as the next match was called. Several duels passed, each one testing the strength and skill of the competitors. But only a few caught my attention—potential threats for the final round.
Draven. The boy was built like a fortress, with muscles that seemed unnatural for someone his age. At just seven years old, he towered over the others, his strikes heavy and unrelenting. He crushed his opponent with raw power, not even bothering to use spells. "A brute," I thought, watching him. "But that kind of strength can be dangerous."
Lucian. His golden hair hung over cold, piercing eyes. Every movement he made was calculated, his strikes precise. There was no wasted effort in his fighting, no sign of emotion. He fought like a machine. "He doesn't just want to win—he's here to prove something," I mused. "A dangerous mindset."
Rowan. He shared Terence's fiery red hair, though his features were sharper, more refined. His style was aggressive, his fire magic far more controlled and potent than his younger brother's. "He'll be out for revenge," I realized. "But that makes him predictable."
As the next match began, I leaned back in my seat, observing closely. A girl with a frightened expression stepped into the arena. She looked nervous, her hands trembling slightly around her weapon. Her opponent was strong—about as strong as Terence—but she fought with surprising determination.
I couldn't help but study her. "She's no match for me," I thought. "But underestimating her would be a mistake. After all, she's next."
The realization hit me like a jolt. I would be facing her after this match. While she looked nervous now, I knew that could change quickly once the duel started. Everyone had a few tricks up their sleeves, and even the most unlikely challengers could surprise you.