The stadium was still buzzing from the previous battles, but all eyes now turned toward the final stretch of the first round. Three matches remained. Three final duels to determine who would enter the second stage of the Arcadia Young Elite Tournant.
The announcer’s voice rang out:
"Match Fourteen—Stage One! Kael Dranzer versus Tobel Varik!"
Two figures stepped onto the field. Kael Dranzer, a swift wind mage with twin daggers, faced off against Tobel Varik, a bulky earth user who wielded a heavy broadsword.
The battle was brief but sharp.
Wind and dust danced as the two clashed. Tobel tried to control space with slabs of stone and solid defense, but Kael’s agility and sharp cuts overwheld him. A final wind slash knocked the broadsword from his hand, forcing the referee to end it.
"Winner—Kael Dranzer!"
Polite applause followed. A clean fight. Not showy, but satisfying.
---
Back in the noble balcony, Logan sat quietly, watching.
"Seems we’re nearing the end," Rudeous murmured beside him.
Logan nodded, but his gaze was sharper now. Focused. He wasn’t just watching for enjoynt—he was studying. Preparing.
Alice, glowing with pride, still couldn’t stop glancing at her son every few seconds.
From the next row, Lilith Starwind leaned her chin into her hand lazily. "Just warm-up rounds. Let’s see sothing better."
Albert, anwhile, was bouncing with excitent in the betting arena. "Ah! Now we’re talking. Real talent, real stakes!"
---
"Match Fifteen—Stage Two! Maelia Cinderfla versus Sylas Veylor!"
The crowd leaned in.
Maelia, a fla-wielding girl from Dawncliff, was known for her fast reflexes and aggressive offense.
But her opponent—Sylas Veylor—was a quiet boy with sharp violet eyes. Nobody really knew him. He hadn’t drawn attention before now.
As the match began, it beca clear he was no ordinary contestant.
Maelia opened strong—fast, wild bursts of fla. But Sylas glided past them with eerie grace. His elent: water. Controlled, cold, and surgical.
Every fla was extinguished. Every movent predicted.
He didn’t overpower—he dismantled.
In less than three minutes, Maelia stood panting, while Sylas stood untouched.
"Winner—Sylas Veylor!"
Now the crowd clapped louder. Whispers followed.
"Who is he?"
"He barely even cast more than two spells."
In the balcony, Logan raised a brow. Zephyr’s eyes followed the boy for a mont.
"Might be trouble," Logan muttered.
---
Then ca the mont they were all waiting for.
The announcer’s voice rose:
"Match Sixteen—Stage One! Prince Rowan vs Gant Heller of the Crimson Forge!"
A hush fell.
Even the noisy betting tables went quiet.
From the stage entrance walked a massive fire mage—Gant. He stomped, cracked his knuckles, and gave a roar that shook the front rows.
Then ca the prince.
Rowan walked like he was out for a stroll. Calm. Shoulders relaxed. Golden hair brushed by the breeze, his crimson cloak trailing behind.
Lilith scoffed. "He’s going to get pumled if he doesn’t take this seriously."
Rowan said nothing. He stepped into the arena, stopped, and nodded politely to the referee.
The countdown began.
"THREE..."
Albert whispered, "Co on... let this one go ten rounds, at least."
"TWO..."
The bulky mage slamd his fists together, flas roaring to life.
"ONE—BEGIN!"
Gant launched forward, flas encasing his arms, screaming like a furnace.
Rowan didn’t move.
Not at first.
He waited.
And just as Gant reached him—
Rowan lifted a single hand.
BOOM.
A column of fla, twisted with lightning, surged upward like a divine explosion. Gant’s body was caught mid-stride—blasted backward before he even landed a punch.
He slamd into the arena wall, smoke rising from his armor.
Before he could even groan, the ground beneath him shifted.
Lightning magic locked his limbs in place like electric shackles, searing and unbreakable.
Rowan stood tall. Calm. Not even winded.
The crowd was frozen.
Silence.
Then the referee raised his hand.
"...Winner—Prince Rowan!"
And the silence shattered.
A roar of disbelief.
"IT’S OVER?!"
"Was that lightning AND fire?!"
"No way—he didn’t even chant!"
Albert’s mouth fell open. "It’s done? That fast?! I... I didn’t even make a single coin!"
In the noble balcony, Lilith stared with a cold expression. "Tch. Almost close to . But still a bit behind."
But even she narrowed her eyes.
Noah Starwind muttered, "That was no ordinary display. He’s been hiding this."
Logan sat straighter. "Tier Two fire... lightning... and Earth, too. Triple affinity."
Rudeous’s expression didn’t change. "He’s as dangerous as we assud."
Zephyr said nothing. But his gaze lingered longer than before.
As Rowan turned to walk off the stage, he didn’t gloat. Didn’t smirk. He just walked—like none of it mattered.
---
And with that, the first round of the Arcadia Young Elite Tournant... ca to a blazing end.
As the crowd slowly began to settle, the announcer returned to the center of the arena. A projection crystal hovered above him, glowing faintly as it captured his voice.
"Ladies and gentlen, with that final match concluded, the First Round of the Arcadia Young Elite Tournant has officially ended!"
Applause thundered through the stadium.
The announcer raised his hand for silence, and the projection crystal flashed again.
"Here are your winners of the first round!"
The nas echoed out one by one, floating in magical script across the arena sky:
- Match 1: Lilith Starwind
- Match 2: Cicilia Wales
- Match 3: Darius Smith
- Match 4: Rovan Yale
- Match 5: Morgan Benedict
- Match 6: Lira Wynn
- Match 7: Vaylen Mord
- Match 8: Arven Skell
- Match 9: Renald Keir
- Match 10: Jerrik Vale
- Match 11: Elira Thorn
- Match 12: Logan Smith
- Match 13: Zephyr Albrecht
- Match 14: Kael Dranzer
- Match 15: Sylas Veylor
- Match 16: Prince Rowan
The cheers roared again.
"Now, the second stage will begin after lunch! The matchups will be decided based on token pairings and tournant bracket sequence. Prepare yourselves!"
The projection shifted again, displaying the upcoming bracket:
- Match A: Lilith Starwind vs Sylas Veylor
- Match B: Cicilia Wales vs Prince Rowan
- Match C: Darius Smith vs Zephyr Albrecht
- Match D: Rovan Yale vs Kael Dranzer
- Match E: Morgan Benedict vs Elira Thron
- Match F: Lira Wynn vs Logan Smith
- Match G: Vaylen Mord vs Token Renald Keir
- Match H: Arven Skell vs Jerrik Vale
Excitent spread like wildfire.
Each na drew gasps, mutters, and cheers.
Back in the noble balcony, Logan narrowed his eyes at the new na beside his—"Lira Wynn."
Albert in the betting zone groaned. "Eight new battles? I’ll be rich... or broke."
The crowd began to rise, many already placing bets in their minds, their eyes flashing with anticipation.
The second round was coming.
And this ti—
There would be no room for weakness.
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