Sunlight streamed onto the academy coliseum, gleaming off pale stone walls. Just as the crowd was settling down after Darius's stunning upset, the announcer's voice boomed once more.
"Now moving to Group B! Match Two—Eryndor Galehart of Class A versus Liora Verdant of Class B!"
Cheers erupted from both sides of the stands.
Eryndor stepped forward first, a confident youth with sharp blue eyes and a gleaming longsword at his hip. His blonde hair seemed to sway in a non-existent breeze. He was known for his wind magic-enhanced swift swordsmanship and was recognized as one of Class A's most promising blades.
Opposing him, Liora Verdant emerged with a calm, steady presence. She wore mage's robes, her deep green hair tied back. Her specialty was the living extensions of the earth itself—vines, roots, and snares born from nature. Her eyes shone with a quiet determination, as if she fought not for pride, but for something deeper.
---
**The Match Begins**
"Combatants—begin!"
With the referee's drop of his hand, Eryndor dashed forward, his sword trailing swirling currents of air. His speed was almost too fast to follow.
*Whoosh!*
Instantly, he closed the distance between them, his blade arcing down. But before it could land, vines shot up from the ground, weaving together into a barrier. Steel met wood with a sharp crack.
"You won't hit me that easily," Liora's voice was calm and steady.
Eryndor smirked. "We'll see about that."
With a twist, he released a blade of compressed air, slicing through the vines like paper. Liora leapt back, only to be met by another sword slash, the sharp gusts of wind exploding outward and carving divots into the arena floor.
The crowd roared in appreciation of her technique.
"Wind magic—so fast, so precise!"
"That Class B girl doesn't stand a chance!"
But Liora was unshaken. She pressed a hand to the earth and murmured an incantation. Roots surged from beneath Eryndor's feet, coiling around her legs like serpents.
"What?!" he swung his sword downward, severing them in one stroke. But as he broke free, more roots erupted from another angle, followed by thorny vines that fractured in the air like shattering porcelain.
Her strategy was clear: slow him down. Entangle her. Suffocate him speed.
"You're clever," Eryndor admitted, dodging left as a thorny vine grazed her cheek. "But cleverness can't overcome strength!"
He raised his sword high. The air around him coalesced violently, wind blades rotating into a miniature cyclone.
"Tempest Edge!"
With a fierce slash, the cyclone shot forward, shredding through the net of vines and tearing up the earth beneath. Liora raised her staff, summoning a wall of thick roots like iron bands, but the cyclone slammed into it, sending her tumbling backward.
She landed on one knee, breathing heavily.
The crowd erupted in loud cheers.
"Amazing!"
"Show Class B the difference in talent!"
Eryndor leveled him sword at Liora. "Yield. Or the next strike will cut deeper than your roots can protect."
Liora's hands trembled. For a moment, she seemed to consider continuing, but then she sighed and lowered her staff. "...I yield."
The referee raised his hand. "Winner—Eryndor Galehart of Class A!"
---
**Within the Shadows**
Amid the applause, a pair of crimson eyes narrowed from within the crowd.
Lucien Vael sat stiffly, hands clenched. His thoughts churned with unease.
*"Ryuto… he was watching me too closely... During our match, did I… slip? Did I truly release some of my power..."*
He could feel it—the faint stirring of the dark energy he struggled to suppress.
A quiet voice cut through his anxiety. "You're too agitated."
Lucien turned to find Selvaria Nocturne seated beside him, her calm gaze fixed on him. She had felt it too, undoubtedly.
"Selvaria," Lucien whispered. "During the Group C match… I…"
"You stirred," she replied plainly. "But it was faint. No one but a trained mage would have noticed. The crowd likely didn't sense it. Even the guards probably thought nothing of it."
Lucien let out a sigh, a mix of relief and lingering fear. "So it wasn't enough to expose me."
Selvaria's lips thinned. "Not yet. But you must be careful. Ryuto… he is not ordinary. And that boy, Kuro…" She glanced towards where Kuro sat silently with Rei, Alisa, and Saria.
"His eyes are too calm for one so young. I suspect he notices far more than he lets on."
Lucien stiffened. He turned to look at Kuro, but the boy was just sitting with his arms crossed, staring at the arena as if lost in thought. His expression gave nothing away.
"But… surely not." Lucien thought, coldly.
Kuro's inner voice murmured, unheard. *"A slip, just a slip, Lucien. I saw you tremble, even as you tried to hide it. Your mask is cracking… and all I need is the right moment to break it completely."*
✦ **To Be Continued...**