Ascalon's Awakening
As George and Elvina, two familiar faces from their academy days, stood face-to-face in the center of the stage, a competitive spark ignited between them. Elvina, her posture regal and her eyes sharp with focus, spoke first. "Don't think because we went to the academy together and because we're friends that I owe you anything, George. I'm here to win."
George nodded, a determined glint in his eyes that reflected the growth he had undergone since his first days in the Great Hall. "That's fine with me. I wasn't planning on holding back."
Elvina smirked, her layered academy robes rustling as she shifted into a combat stance. "Well, aren't you cocky? Fine then."
Without another word, Elvina charged. She moved as a blur of motion, her hands glowing with the soft, translucent light of her force-field aura. She connected with two massive, aura-infused blows to George's torso. George staggered, the air driven from his lungs, before he crumpled to the ground with a surprised grunt. He tried to push himself back up, but a sharp cough racked his frame, splattering blood onto the dark obsidian stage.
"I targeted your lungs during that last attack," Elvina stated, her voice devoid of remorse as she maintained her professional poise. "You know, you really should learn how to put up an aura field, George. Raw potential won't save you here."
George slowly pushed himself back to his feet, wiping the copper-tasting blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze fell upon the gleaming sword at his side—Ascalon, the Saint's Sword. As he grasped the hilt, a soft, ethereal glow emanated from the blade, responding to his touch. With a mighty swing, George slashed the air. A devastating air slash—a shimmering crescent of pure, compressed force—tore through the space between them.
Elvina's eyes widened in shock as she instinctively threw up a reinforced barrier. The air slash didn't just hit the defense; it completely shattered the magical force field, sending Elvina sprawling backward across the stage.
What the hell kind of power is that? Elvina thought, struggling to regain her footing, a mix of awe and genuine shock on her face. She had never seen George wield such concentrated energy.
George stared at the sword in his hand, momentarily stunned. The childlike wonder of his early lessons at the academy overrode the intensity of the battle for a fleeting second. "Did I do that? This thing is so cool," he muttered to himself.
However, Elvina had recovered. She threw her hands forward, rapidly manifesting multiple translucent force fields in a cage-like formation around George. He swung Ascalon at the barriers, trying to repeat the air slash, but the blade remained silent. No shimmering crescent appeared. He realized with a jolt of panic that he was being squeezed; Elvina was contracting the walls of the energy cage to force a submission.
After a grunt of sheer physical and spiritual exertion, George managed to flare his aura, cracking the oppressive barrier just enough to lung out. He immediately charged Elvina, swinging his sword to knock her down, but she moved with the grace of a seasoned student, dodging him effortlessly. She countered with a focused force-field blast to his face, nearly sending him flying out of the ring.
George shook his head, clearing the stars from his vision as Elvina unleashed a volley of force-field projectiles. He managed to break through them with precise swings of his sword, but his frustration was building. Why won't the air slash work again? he wondered.
In the heat of the moment, he pictured his friends. "I'll just obliterate her, cha!" he imagined Nana saying with her trademark mischievous grin. Then Kayn's voice echoed in his mind, calm and analytical: "I'll make a strategic and sound retreat."
Finally, the wise, stern voice of Professor Zorro Diego resonated in his memory. "George, focus. Use the sword as a conduit. Allow it to draw out your powers. Don't think, just feel."
George took a deep breath, centering himself. "Okay, imaginary old man Zorro is right. I just need to learn how to channel my aura into the sword."
As he concentrated, pouring his raw, untapped aura into the hilt, Ascalon responded with a blinding, intense light that illuminated the entire arena. George swung the blade with newfound purpose.
The resulting airwave was cataclysmic. It didn't just knock Elvina out of the ring; it sent her flying with such force that she was seriously injured upon impact. The wave continued past the stage, shattering three of the four reinforced force fields maintained by Irving Hawkings, the 2nd Lieutenant of the House of Swords, who had been desperately trying to protect the spectators.
The announcer went absolutely wild, his voice cracking over the roar of the crowd. "I can't believe what I've just seen, folks! What raw, unadulterated power! The winner is George Lydia!"
The crowd erupted into a thunderous, ecstatic roar. However, the cost of the strike was immediate. George stumbled, his vision swimming as his aura reserves hit zero. He fell unconscious on the obsidian, completely exhausted. Medics rushed onto the stage, carefully lifting him onto a stretcher to carry him away to the recovery area, leaving the arena echoing with his name.