Day of Tournament
All students were gathered. Professors lined the high viewing stands. Nobles leaned forward in their private skyboxes, sipping chilled wines and whispering names like investments. The entire academy was a stage. And every student, a gamble.
The golden letters on the massive mana screen began shifting.
> Match 47: Zane (Mage Division – Class 9) vs. Sir Caldus Aerwyn (Knight Division – Rank 5)
A hush spread.
Most didn't know Zane.
Those who did… didn't believe the pairing was real.
Mira's eyes narrowed. "They're feeding him to the lions on purpose."
Kien laughed. "Lions? Caldus is worse. He beat down a summoner's wyvern using his helmet. Zane's gonna get turned into street art."
But Mira wasn't laughing.
And deep in the crowd, someone muttered, "Who's this Zane again?"
---
[Arena 3 – Ten Minutes Later]
Massive. Circular. Runes across the stone floor pulsed with latent magic. No terrain tricks this time—just one open battlefield. A coliseum designed for blood and glory.
Sir Caldus Aerwyn was already at the center, massive frame plated in gleaming silver-etched armor. His sword, taller than most students, rested against his shoulder like a casual insult.
He stood like a champion who knew he had already won.
Across the field, Zane walked out slowly—no cloak, no rats, no distractions.
Just him.
His frame had changed. Lean muscle pressed against his black uniform like a taut wire about to snap. His steps were silent but confident, every stride precise, his eyes like cold glass—reflecting nothing, calculating everything.
No one laughed this time.
Even the commentators faltered.
> "Uh… representing Class 9… Zane. Recently promoted from provisional… records unclear..."
Caldus raised an eyebrow. "What's this? They send me a warm-up?"
Zane smiled.
Not wide. Not mocking. Just enough to say: You should've stayed quiet.
---
[System Buffs Active]
> [Physical Conditioning: High]
[Reaction Time Enhancement: Active (Passive)]
[Tactical Combat Mode: Synced]
[S.A.S.S. in Combat Mode: Jaded Older Brother – Silent Watch]
Even the system was quiet.
No jokes. No warnings.
Only readiness.
---
A shockwave echoed as the duel rune activated, and the barrier sealed the arena from interference.
Caldus moved first—fast. Too fast for someone wearing two hundred pounds of armor. His blade swung down in a vertical arc, meant to split even enchanted shields in half.
Zane didn't dodge.
He stepped into the strike.
Gasps rang out.
Caldus' eyes widened—Too close.
Zane's left hand snapped up like lightning, grabbing the flat of the descending blade.
A crack rang through the air—not of bone, but steel resisting a force it wasn't meant to meet barehanded.
With a twist of his wrist and shoulder, Zane redirected the blow, the greatsword slamming into the stone arena floor beside him.
Dust erupted.
Then—
Zane's right elbow crushed into Caldus' armored side. The sound was like a gong being punched off-key.
Caldus grunted, armor denting visibly.
The crowd froze.
The mage just outpowered a ranked knight in close combat.
"What—" Caldus stumbled back, adjusting his stance.
Zane didn't wait.
He moved forward again—silent, efficient, ruthless.
A left hook. A knee to the thigh. A precise strike to the pauldron's pressure latch. Every move wasted nothing. Every blow tested weaknesses.
He wasn't fighting like a mage.
He fought like someone who'd been hit by mountains before, and decided to hit back harder.
Caldus roared, mana flaring around his armor. "You're just a mage!"
Zane ducked a swing, pivoted, and headbutted Caldus in the mouth.
Metal cracked.
The audience lost its mind.
---
"Wait—WHAT?!"
"Who IS that guy?!"
"Did he just HEADBUTT a knight?!"
"Is this still a mage tournament?!"
Mira stood, lips parted.
"He's faster than before," she whispered. "Stronger. Way stronger."
Kien blinked. "That's not magic. That's raw physical skill."
"Training," she said. "He disappeared after the second trial for a reason."
---
Caldus spat blood, his lips split.
"You—!"
Zane's fist slammed into his midsection before the sentence finished.
Caldus flew back ten feet and hit the barrier wall.
He slid down, coughing, his armor smoking slightly.
Zane walked forward, slow and controlled.
No gloating.
No words.
Just the calm of a storm that hadn't stopped yet.
---
[System Notice: Crowd Analysis – Reaction Surge Detected]
> [You are now marked as "Dark Horse" on 17 student betting lists.]
[Empire Envoys: 2 watching your match feed directly.]
[S.A.S.S.: Good job. Try not to fracture anything vital before the quarter-finals.]
Zane exhaled once. Calm.
He finally spoke—his voice quiet but sharp as frost.
"You're not weak, Caldus. You're just... predictable."
Caldus growled and leapt forward again—this time using mana burst acceleration.
Zane didn't dodge.
He met the charge head-on, spun low, and shoulder-checked Caldus mid-dash—reversing the momentum and slamming him into the arena floor face-first.
Dust exploded.
Caldus didn't rise.
---
[Duel Result: Victory – Zane]
[Health Remaining: 78%]
[External Scan: No Buffs Used – Clean Win Registered]
The arena fell silent.
Then erupted.
Cheers. Panic. Excitement. Screams.
But Zane just turned his back and walked out of the arena before the announcer even recovered.
---
[Watching from Afar – Professor Dominick's Office]
Dominick watched the replay crystal float silently in front of him.
He hadn't blinked once.