The arena for duels and friendly spars was a circle of polished stone thirty steps long. It was surrounded by a runic barrier that, when activated, covered the arena with a glowing blue dome. There weren't seats for the spectators, except for a booth made for the judge and other important people in attendance.
Today, the arena was surrounded by dozens of spectators. Half of the school's students came to watch this strange match, along with several teachers.
Countless eyes were looking at the two magi standing in the arena, full of anticipation and curiosity.
Over the day, the news of the mad challenge had flown over the Blue Bismuth School, and now everybody wanted to see how this would turn out. Even now, they were gossiping and arguing among each other.
"This will be an absolutely one-sided victory. But maybe Reynard will tell us why?.."
"So insane, it can't simply end up with a beating…"
"Surely he has some trump card in his sleeve. No one would just go and kick a badger like that!"
At this moment, two people walked toward the judge's booth. At their approach, all conversation went silent, and people gave way, bowing.
In the front walked an old man in white robes—Bartholomew Canseliet, the Magister of Blue Bismuth School. He had a thick gray beard and a round cap covering his baldness, and with every step exuded the wisdom of ages. His aura almost glowed with powerful mana.
Next to him was walking a beautiful girl in black robes with two black squares—Marien Canseliet, Bartholomew's granddaughter. Her blond hair was braided into an unusual hairstyle: two braids that were arranged in bun-like swirls over her ears. She walked in dancing steps and looked full of youthful vigor despite being mature enough to have visible breasts and hips even in a flowing robe.
Behind them, whispers of confusion flew like ripples.
"Could it be? The Magister himself judges some puny duel?"
"Maybe he came to stop it?"
"He's probably only here because his granddaughter got curious…"
The whispers went silent as the pair sat in the judge's booth and Bartholomew declared:
"Today's duel is unusual. The school's rules only prohibit duels between students and teachers, but I can see a clear difference in skill between these two students. Because of this, I have decided to observe the duel myself and ensure that nobody dies. Now, state your grievances, duelists."
Bartholomew looked extremely bored as he spoke. However, Marien was almost jumping in her seat with interest as she watched.
Reynard stepped forward first.
"Esteemed Magister! I, Reynard Artemy, was bullied by Markus Furgund for years! I demand moral compensation—his achemical garden. If I win, let it be mine!"
"And I, Markus Furgund, was insulted by Reynard Artemy! He threw his dirty gloves at me like it was some sort of a game! If I win this duel, let his life be mine."
"So be it. To positions, duelists!"
Bartholomew raised his hand and muttered a spell. In an instant, a slightly opaque glowing dome appeared over the arena.
Now, nothing could leave the arena, but spells and people could still enter it to help the duelists.
Reynard and Markus went to stand ten paces away from each other.
Markus raised his hands. A spell was ready to leave his mouth as soon as he got the signal. He has spent half the night thinking this spell through.
Seeing his stance, some watchers already began guessing what it would be.
"Is he going to cast Seeking Lightning? Markus already raised his hands to a starting position! He likes lightning spells, and this one will chase its target. No matter what trick Reynard has prepared, he won't be able to dodge this one…"
Reynard just held his hands in his pockets, to everybody's confusion. His stance was completely relaxed.
Spells usually required moving hands, not just fingers, and reading incantations. Magi preferred to keep their hands on the open, and only the most powerful ones could rise past these limitations.
Seeing this, Markus grew even angrier!
'Is he insulting me? Is he thinking that he can defeat me even without using spells or his hands?!' he thought, glaring at Reynard.
In the audience, some people saw this too.
"I want to change my bet! I bet that Reynard will win!" someone shouted. "Ten gold on Reynard!"
Reynard's eyes widened.
'Shit! I should have bet on myself, too. Ah, wait, I've spent all my money already…'
He licked his lips, feeling his heart beating like mad despite his relaxed stance. Reynard was hiding it, but he only had one chance at this! One chance, or it was a "reincarnation reroll"!
Bartholomew raised his hand, and silence returned.
"Three… Two… One… Duel!"
Markus moved his fingers and his lips. His mana flew out, transforming through the spell. With each transformation, it changed form and shape, becoming more and more electric until it became a bolt of lightning. But it was an unfinished spell, and it continued to transform…
Reynard pulled the gun from his pocket, aimed it at Markus, and released a pulse of mana.
BANG!
The Boom Powder exploded. Faster than any Nigredo-stage spell, the bullet flew.
It went through Markus's lightning and hit him square in the chest.
At the last moment, there was a flash of light as Bartholomew cast a protective spell.
The lightning fell apart in a shower of sparks. Markus fell to the ground, clutching the bleeding wound on his chest. Even the Magister's quick spell didn't fully protect him.
In the absolute silence left after the bang, Reynard was wincing and shaking his aching hand.
"Ouch! Ouch! This Boom Powder gives it too much of a kick! But…"
He lowered his hand and looked around, beaming.
"I won! I have definitely won! Aha-ha-ha, it's finally time to level up for real!"