The judge raised his hand.
At once, silence descended upon the arena.
Every gaze was fixed upon the two fighters standing at the center of the battlefield.
The air itself seemed to grow heavier as anticipation spread through the spectators.
Then, the judge's voice rang out across the arena.
"Begin!"
And so...
The match between Dion Dainhart and Aurelius Dainhart had begun.
Aurelius was well known among the members of the family for his remarkable talent and composed temperament.
He was the kind of person who rarely allowed emotion to interfere with his judgment.
Calm.
Rational.
Disciplined.
Even in the midst of battle, he was known for keeping his mind clear and his decisions precise.
Dion, however...
Was something entirely different.
Sharp-tempered.
Cold-eyed.
And possessed of an overwhelming physical presence that seemed to create an invisible pressure around him.
Simply standing before him was enough to make others instinctively tense.
The two stood facing one another.
Aurelius did not move.
His body settled naturally into a combat stance, every muscle prepared, every sense sharpened.
His entire attention was focused on the opponent standing before him.
He never allowed his eyes to leave Dion, not even for a moment.
He understood that this was not an opponent who could be taken lightly.
Dion, however...
His expression told an entirely different story.
There was no excitement.
No nervousness.
Not even any obvious desire to fight.
Instead, there was only irritation.
Displeasure.
As though this was not the opponent he had wanted.
As though the entire match was nothing more than an inconvenience he wished to eliminate as quickly as possible.
And the moment the judge finished announcing the beginning of the battle—
Dion moved.
Yet instead of immediately charging toward Aurelius, he began preparing his spell.
Mana surged around his body.
Magical circles began forming in the air.
The structure of the spell was already becoming increasingly complex, making it clear that he was preparing a mid-level spell.
Aurelius's eyes narrowed.
He was waiting.
Waiting for the right moment.
Waiting for the spell to take shape.
But—
He never got that chance.
Because while Dion appeared completely absorbed in preparing his magic...
He suddenly moved.
One step.
Then another.
And in the blink of an eye—
Dion was already in front of him.
"What—?!"
Aurelius didn't even have time to finish the word.
BOOOOM!
A heavy, brutal fist slammed directly into the center of his stomach.
Aurelius's eyes widened.
The air was violently driven from his lungs.
His body folded forward from the sheer force of the impact.
But before his mind could even comprehend what had happened—
BOOM!
Dion's fist rose again.
And this time—
It crashed directly into Aurelius's chin.
His body was launched from the ground.
He flew backward before crashing heavily into the center of the arena.
DOOOOM!
Dust erupted from the ground.
Aurelius's body skidded across the battlefield, blood staining the corner of his mouth as pain coursed through every part of him.
For several moments...
He did not move.
Yet Aurelius was not willing to give up.
He planted both hands against the ground and forced himself upward.
His breathing was ragged.
His body screamed with pain.
Every movement felt as though his bones themselves were protesting.
But he forced himself to stand.
I need distance...
Aurelius was not foolish.
He immediately understood the danger of engaging Dion in close combat.
If he remained within Dion's reach, he would have no opportunity to demonstrate his true strength.
Therefore, he retreated as quickly as possible toward the edge of the arena, desperately attempting to create a safe distance between them.
He needed space.
He needed time.
He needed only one opportunity...
One chance to regain control of the battle.
But then—
The moment Aurelius raised his head...
A red light reflected within his eyes.
His pupils froze.
And that light was not merely the reflection of an incoming spell.
It was the reflection of a cruel realization.
A realization that struck him with absolute clarity.
His chances were over.
In the air before him...
There were countless fireballs.
One.
Two.
Three...
Then more.
Dozens of blazing projectiles streaked through the air, each one tearing toward him at terrifying speed.
Aurelius had noticed them only at the very last moment.
There was no time to scream.
No time to panic.
Not even enough time to construct a defensive spell.
He stared at the approaching flames for a single second.
Then...
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
It was a strange smile.
Quiet.
Almost peaceful.
As though some part of him had finally understood the absurdity of resisting a situation that had already been decided.
In a low voice, he muttered,
"What a joke..."
There had never been a comparison to begin with.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The fireballs detonated simultaneously.
A torrent of flames swallowed Aurelius completely.
The entire arena trembled beneath the explosion.
A deafening roar swept across the battlefield as fire and smoke surged into the sky.
For several moments, nothing could be seen through the thick cloud of smoke.
Then, as the smoke slowly began to disperse...
Aurelius lay motionless upon the ground.
His body was covered in injuries.
His eyes were closed.
He had lost consciousness.
Silence descended upon the arena.
Then the medical team rushed forward.
They hurried onto the battlefield, carefully lifted Aurelius, and immediately began carrying him away for treatment.
Several moments later, the steward finally raised his voice.
"And with that... I hereby declare Dion Dainhart the winner of the second match!"
Yet...
There was no applause.
No cheers.
No celebration.
Instead, silence continued to dominate the audience.
It was the silence of pure shock.
Everyone knew that Aurelius was not weak.
He was a mid-Second Circle mage.
And yet...
He had been defeated that easily.
The entire confrontation had lasted only moments.
There had barely been a battle at all.
No exchange of spells.
No prolonged struggle.
No opportunity for Aurelius to demonstrate his true strength.
The result could only be described as one thing...
Absolute annihilation.
Whispers gradually began spreading throughout the spectators.
Some described Dion's fighting style as ruthless.
Others called it uncivilized.
Some even went so far as to call it excessively violent.
But Dion did not care.
He did not turn toward the crowd.
He offered no explanation.
He showed no remorse.
To him, the battle was already over.
And that was all that mattered.
Meanwhile, Leo continued watching the scene in silence.
After a moment, he finally spoke.
"There's nothing wrong with his style."
His eyes remained fixed upon the arena.
"In battle, what matters in the end is victory."
He paused briefly.
"And history remembers only the winners."
Leo did not consider Dion's method inherently wrong.
Dion had simply identified an obvious weakness in his opponent.
A mage needed time.
Distance.
Concentration.
Only then could they properly demonstrate their true strength.
But if a mage was suddenly ambushed by a physical attack before completing their spell...
Their greatest advantage could disappear in an instant.
And that was precisely what Dion had done.
"He exploited a mage's weakness against sudden physical attacks," Leo said calmly.
Then he continued, his tone becoming analytical.
"Once he disrupted Aurelius's rhythm like that, he gave him no opportunity to recover."
Leo's eyes narrowed slightly.
"He immediately followed up with magic, and his objective was obvious..."
He lifted his gaze toward the battlefield.
"Destroy him completely before he could even stand back up."
Leo fell silent for a moment.
Then he added,
"There's nothing wrong with fighting like that in a real battle."
His expression shifted slightly.
"However..."
"I think he took it a little too far for something as trivial as a preliminary trial."
Leo eventually sat down in one of the nearby seats, resting his back against it.
After a brief pause, he continued,
"Even if the two of them had fought directly, without the element of surprise, I'd still favor Dion."
He stopped for a moment.
Then added,
"From everything I've observed so far... his power is at least at the level of the upper Second Circle."
That single observation was enough to explain much of what had happened.
Dion's overwhelming performance had not been the result of surprise alone.
There was genuine strength behind every movement.
Genuine power behind every blow.
Leo rested his head against his shoulder and pondered for a few moments.
Perhaps the reason he acted like that was some old grudge...
Or perhaps he was simply in a hurry.
He remained silent for a moment.
Then continued his thoughts.
But I think it was probably impatience.
If there had truly been some old grudge between them, he wouldn't have ended the fight so quickly.
The way Dion had ended the battle...
It had been too fast.
Too decisive.
Almost excessively so.
And yet, there had been no hatred in his expression.
No obvious anger.
Nothing in his demeanor suggested the presence of some deep personal grudge.
There was simply no clear indication of it.
Leo released a long sigh.
"Whatever..."
He relaxed further into his seat.
"It's none of my business."
Around him, the murmurs of the audience slowly began returning.
Voices spread throughout the arena once more.
Some discussed Dion's overwhelming strength.
Others talked about the crushing defeat Aurelius had suffered.
But Leo no longer paid attention.
He closed his eyes.
He simply listened to the noise surrounding him without taking part in it.
The arena continued to buzz with discussion.
Yet Leo remained completely still.
And amidst the countless voices echoing around him...
He quietly murmured,
"This is life."