A few battles would pass unsuspectingly. The strong won with little effort while the weak had little showing that would draw the attention of crowds.
"Number 109, Rain, number 44, Rool." It was Rain's turn now. The wait wasn't long as multiple battles were happening on smaller arenas on the side.
Each participant would have to fight in 5 battles. Winning three would guarantee your progression to the next stage of competition, however, competitors sought to win as many as possible for two other reasons.
Most participants believed in their own strength. The reason out of the almost 1000 first years only 200 compete was because the other 800 were due to their own self-evaluations.
If they performed well, it was likely they could draw the attention of teachers, or higher ranking nobles that would sponsor their future after or even during their time at the academy. The same goes for servants despite there being few.
Second, placing well in the beginning round would make sure that they were slotted against easier opponents as the 3-wins would likely be matched against the 5-wins to make sure the strongest participants were the ones that made it to the final rounds.
Rain ascended the stairs to his battle platform and came face to face with one of the lackeys he had just antagonized earlier in the waiting room.
"Looks like my luck is really good today!" He laughed as a wicked grin formed on his face.
"Don't get too excited, fattass." Rain reciprocated a grin back. And he wasn't exactly fat, but definitely not slim. But from his irked expression, it seemed Rain had struck a nerve.
"What did you say? I'm going to break your fucking arms, boy."
And as the referee sounded the horn, Rool charged at him, his mace extended back to swing with his momentum.
He had been even more predictable than the beats in the Northern Barren.
With one quick sidestep, Rain avoided the heavy swing, leaving Rool wide open for the icicles that penetrated his shoulders.
Rain had to avoid using dark mana while in public, but for such weakling, just his natural fighting instincts would have done enough to squash them.
The Ice spread a little before stopping, its disease-like nature no longer present without Rain's natural dark mana.
But despite that, Rool's shoulder had frozen solid with some parts turning into glass and falling to the ground.
"Ahh! Bastard!" He screamed and charged at Rain again, swapping his mace to the other arm.
But before he could even reach, his legs were frozen in place, and he crumpled to the ground soon as the ice shattered.
He laid there, wailing in pain as the priests and mages carried him out.
"Winner, number 109, Rain," came the referee's voice.
His next three battles–with two swordsmen and a fire mage–ended in a similarly dominant fashion. All three men were wheeled off the stage with limbs missing, and a wound cauterized in glassy ice.
Now, it was his final battle.
"Number 109, Rain, Number 12, Marcus."
It was the bulky man, at least 7 foot, body covered in muscle, but above all with a shield at least two clear heads taller than he was.
They exchanged no words and only stared into each other's eyes.
And after the referee blew the whistle, they simply continued to stare again.
Rain had seen Marcus fight some of his previous fights.
He wasn't as explosive as the girl with red hair or quick as that Adelbert, but his defenses were impenetrable. He wore his opponents down, forcing them to make a mistake to which he would punish, ending the battle immediately.
He could win, but while suppressing his devilish powers, it would require precision.
It seemed like forever had passed, but finally Rain moved.
He came from a slightly sideways angle, constantly throwing small ice projectiles into the tower shield.
He had hoped that one might slip through his defenses despite knowing that it was impossible. But even so, he was slowly wearing his reserves down.
A thin layer of mana could be seen on his shield. He knew it wasn't a great weapon despite its size.
The testament of a truly great magical artifact was its ability to be an extension of the user's mana control, and not simply a conduit to project their magic outwards.
A great weapon would not shine with a layer of mana but be able to withstand magic attacks of any kind on its own, as the user could channel enough mana into the material that it gained the user's properties.
Rain knew this shield was just a conduit, he could wither him down with enough time. If there was anything he was confident in, it was his mana-reserves, being a mana-blessed species.
As soon as Rain got closer, Marcus shifted his shield sideways, wiping away the frost accumulation. And with a lead that cracked the ground, attempted to slam Rain into the ground.
It seemed that he also knew the flaws in his own weapon and could not continue sustaining damage that could permanently affect his future battles.
Rain dodged, as usual, placing a thin but voluminous block of ice where Marucs landed so that with his opponents force he created an ice mist that obscured vision.
Seeing this, Marcus immediately put his defenses up and called up the earth to surround him in a wall.
But this was a critical mistake.
First weakening one point in the earth barrier with his ice, he poured a significant amount of mana into his tanto and threw it.
The knife easily penetrated the earth barrier, burying itself deep into Marcus' side as the ice exploded like ivy across his chest.
Marcus fell to one knee and coughed a breath of cold mist before falling to the ground in defiance.
"Winner, number 109, Rain."
The first day of competition concluded.
**********
"Who's that?" Alan Adalbert asked one of his goons who was currently prostrate to him in a regal dorm room.
"His name is Rain. He seems to be a servant of Evelynn Ventura with ice as his main affinity."
"Ventura… but just a servant? And he beat Marcus."
"Find me an ice-resisting artifact."
The servant had hesitated not long but it swiftly drew the ire of the Adalbert.
"GO!" he yelled as he broke a glass on the servants head.
"Yes, younger master," the servant stuttered before scurrying off out the door.
**********
"Hey!" Eve called as Rain returned to her dorm, awaiting the next day of competition. "When did you get so strong? What else are you hiding from me?"
"Do you really want to know?" Rain teased a little. He would not show her all his secrets, yet. There was a bit more real affinity between them as Rain did see her favors in a very positive light.
"Tell me!" She yelped like a little child.
"...Another day," Rain responded after a long, tension building pause.
"Just tell me!" Eve pouted his back, making Rain bend forward a little.
He knew and she knew that he wouldn't tell her anything… yet.
That night, Rain and Eve slept soundly together after a short session of passion, letting the questions of the day pass them in the heat of lovemaking.
Aurora had not come today. She could wait for every other day. And she would not simply tell to her best friend's face that she was trying to steal away her partner; soon, though, she would find out anyway… just not yet.