Chapter 10
The courtyard pulsed with energy. Hundreds of students gathered in tight clusters, their robes catching the morning light like waves of color. At the center, raised above them on the stone platform, stood Headmaster Raymond. His silver hair gleamed under the sun, and his voice carried effortlessly across the crowd.
"Students of Arcanis," he began, his tone calm yet commanding. "Today, you will test your resilience in one of our oldest traditions—the capture-the-flag tournament."
The murmur of voices stilled. Ethan shifted slightly in his spot, his gaze flicking to Freddie and Sage beside him. A few paces off stood William, arms folded, and Warren, his expression a permanent smirk. The five of them seemed like points on a drawn circle, each aware of the others.
Raymond let the silence linger before continuing.
"Some of you have done this before. You already know the rules, the chaos, the… excitement of the game." His eyes flicked toward the older students, amusement dancing in them. "But for the first years—listen well."
A ripple of anticipation ran through the younger crowd. Ethan felt it in his stomach, that mix of nerves and adrenaline. He hadn't realized until now how much he wanted to prove something here—not just to others, but to himself.
Before Raymond could go on, the scene cut away to the rows of benches surrounding the courtyard, where students who weren't participating sat to spectate. Luna threaded her way through the crowd until she spotted Cassie, who was perched cross-legged with an almost serene detachment.
"Cassie!" Luna called, sliding in beside her.
Cassie turned, her pale eyes softening. "Luna. Didn't think you'd bother with the stands."
"I wanted to see how everyone does," Luna said, brushing her dark hair back. "But… why aren't you out there? I thought you'd jump at this."
Cassie's lips curved faintly, her tone dry but not unkind. "You know me. I don't particularly enjoy violence. Unless it's absolutely necessary, I'd rather not."
Luna nodded slowly, her red eyes catching a glint of the sun. "Yeah… I get that." She glanced back at the field where Ethan was standing tall, and for a moment she smiled faintly to herself.
Back at the platform, Raymond raised his hand. The air quieted again.
"The tournament is simple," he said, his voice sharp as flint. "Two teams: Red and Blue. Two bases, each with a flag. The goal—capture your enemy's flag and return it to your own base. Anything short of killing is permitted. Defend, deceive, strike, adapt. Do whatever it takes to win."
A few laughs and shouts erupted from the crowd of older students. The first years, however, stood stiff, the weight of his words pressing down on them.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. Something felt off. He scanned the groups again, realization dawning. "Freddie," he muttered. "There aren't any second years here at all. Not one."
Freddie's mouth quirked, but his gaze stayed forward. "That's probably because Maximiliano Zoltan told them not to."
The name struck Ethan like a stone to the chest. He turned sharply. "What? Why?"
Freddie shrugged lightly, as if it were obvious. "I'm certain it's because he thinks he already knows the outcome of this tournament."
Ethan stared at him, trying to read if he was joking, but Freddie's face was calm, matter-of-fact. Ethan thought about pressing further, but Raymond's voice swept over them again.
"Do not think little of yourselves just because you're new," the Headmaster said, his tone turning firm, almost proud. "Last year, the winning team had a first-year who outclassed everyone. I'm sure most of you know his name—Maximiliano Zoltan."
The sound of it hung in the air. William's jaw clenched; his lips curled in a quiet, bitter tch.
Raymond didn't linger. He lifted a hand and gestured toward the students' wrists. "Look at your watches."
In unison, the black bands gleamed to life. Colors burst across them—brilliant red on some, bright blue on others. Ethan glanced down to see his glow a fierce blue color. Beside him, Freddie's and Sage's did the same. Across the field, Warren and William's watches blazed red.
Freddie let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Seriously? What are the odds."
"Those are your teams," Raymond announced. "If your watch goes dark, you're out. Defeated. Remember that."
The crowd stirred. Tension spiked. Ethan flexed his fingers unconsciously, feeling the pulse of magic in the air. The stage was set.
The courtyard erupted into motion. The red team and blue team split off toward opposite ends of the battlefield, their watches pulsing like beacons. The air thickened with anticipation as dozens of students filed into the sprawling arena beyond the walls.
Ethan followed Freddie and Sage through a stone archway and into the forested expanse that served as the tournament grounds. It was massive—dense trees, uneven terrain, streams cutting through the earth, and somewhere in all that wilderness, the opposing team's flag.
"Feels like a damn jungle," Ethan muttered under his breath. His watch pulsed blue at his wrist, casting little flashes of light across the bark of the trees.
Freddie slowed, scanning the landscape with sharp eyes. His usual laid-back grin was gone; in its place was focus, pure and unshakable. "Forget strategy," he said flatly. "This won't come down to who's cleverer. It'll come down to who hits harder."
"That's reassuring," Ethan said dryly.
Freddie smirked, just faintly, then jabbed a finger toward the flagpole at the heart of their base. "Stay with Sage. Protect that flag. Whatever happens, don't let William or Warren anywhere near it."
Sage crossed her arms, her watch glowing faintly on her wrist. "Don't underestimate me," she said, her tone clipped. "If either of them shows up, I'll crush them."
Ethan raised a brow at her confidence. "Guess I'm just the sidekick then?"
"You said it, not me," Sage replied, her lips twitching just slightly.
The horn blared—a deep, echoing sound that rolled through the trees. The match had begun.
Freddie wasted no time. With a burst of speed, sparks dancing at his feet, he shot into the forest toward the enemy's base. Sage remained by the flag, loosening her shoulders, her eyes already scanning the trees.
"Go forward a bit," she called over her shoulder. "We'll guard the flag. You make sure no one slips through."
"Yeah, sure," Ethan muttered, jogging ahead. His nerves buzzed, but beneath them there was something steadier now. A weight. A new Ambition.
Branches snapped ahead. Ethan froze just as a figure burst from the trees—a red team student, charging straight for him with reckless momentum.
The boy swung. Ethan blocked, the impact jolting up his arm. They exchanged blows—fast, sloppy, all adrenaline. The student shoved Ethan back, then lunged again, aiming low.
"Not happening," Ethan growled. He vaulted up a tree trunk, using the momentum to spring off. His heel connected with the boy's head in a clean, brutal kick.
The red teamer crumpled to the ground. His watch flickered, then went dark.
Ethan landed, panting, staring at his glowing wrist. "Hah… guess I really have gotten stronger."
He didn't have long to think. A sharp boom echoed behind him. Sage had already floored another opponent, her foot planted on their chest. She tilted her chin up, her voice carrying across the clearing.
"Anyone else wanna go?" she taunted.
Another student emerged, older, more disciplined. His eyes narrowed. Without a word, he raised his hands, conjuring a barrage of searing blasts that cut through the air toward her.
Sage clicked her tongue. "So it's like that, huh?"
The barrage lit the forest in blinding flashes. Knowing she couldn't dodge them all, Sage lifted her hand. "Weapon Creation Magic: Shield!"
A gleaming shield manifested from her palm, broad and solid. The blasts hammered against it, sparks scattering across the ground. She braced, teeth gritted, then shoved forward. The shield crashed into her opponent, staggering him.
She closed the distance in a heartbeat—fist to gut, elbow to jaw, a ruthless combo that ended with a heavy strike. His watch went dark as he collapsed.
Sage let the shield fade, exhaling. "Next."
Ethan stared, half impressed, half unnerved. "…Remind me not to piss you off."
She didn't even glance his way, only scanned the trees again, her expression sharp.
Ethan began pushing forward into the battlefield and then—beyond the treeline—He saw it. The enemy's flag. Unattended. A wild grin broke across his face as he sprinted toward it.
But just as his fingers reached out—
A shadow dropped in front of him. Warren.
The red glow of his watch pulsed like fire. He leaned casually on one foot, his smirk wide. "Did you really think it was unguarded?"
Ethan skidded to a halt, chest heaving. His eyes locked with Warren's, the tension thick as smoke.
Ethan squared his shoulders, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He didn't answer Warren—just dug his feet into the dirt and shot forward.
Warren's grin sharpened. "Brave. Stupid, but brave."
He lifted his hand, magic coiling around his fingers. "Fire Creation Magic: Blazing Sun!"
The air itself seemed to ignite. A sphere of fire bloomed between his palms, swelling into a miniature sun. The heat rolled across the clearing in suffocating waves, lighting the trees in a molten glow.
Ethan skidded to a stop. The flames licked mere inches from his skin, heat biting into his face.
"Take one more step," Warren said, his voice low and steady, all playfulness gone. "I dare you."
The world shrank to silence. Ethan's throat tightened. His legs trembled—not from fear alone, but from the sheer force pressing down on him. For a heartbeat, he couldn't breathe.
And then—
"Step back, Ethan."
Freddie's voice cut through the suffocating heat like a blade. He appeared behind him, sparks crackling across his arms, eyes sharp with deadly focus.
Ethan turned slightly, shock flashing in his gaze. "Freddie—"
"Go." Freddie's tone was flat, absolute. He didn't look away from Warren. "Return to base. I'll handle this."
Ethan's jaw tightened. Frustration boiled in his chest—he hated being told to back down. But one look at Freddie's expression told him this wasn't the time to argue. With a short nod, he stepped back, the fire easing as he retreated.
Warren let the blazing orb fade, his lips curling back into a smirk. "Took you long enough. Thought you were going to keep me waiting forever."
Freddie rolled his shoulders, sparks dancing brighter with each motion. "You'll regret waiting."
The two squared off, silence settling heavy between them. Every crackle of fire, every spark of lightning lit the air like a storm on the verge of breaking.
And from the trees, hidden eyes watched—the other students, pausing mid-battle, sensing the clash about to erupt.
Two titans, finally meeting head-on.
The horn still echoed in the distance, the tournament just beginning. But for Ethan—watching from the shadows—Ethan knew, as the sparks met the flames, this clash would decide far more than a game.