The Weight of Speed
The roar of the crowd had barely settled after George's dramatic victory before the announcer's voice, still shaking with a mixture of disbelief and adrenaline, cut through the stadium.
"Ladies and gentlemen, keep your eyes on the ring! For our second match of the semi-finals, we have a clash of royalty!" He gestured to the western gate.
"Representing the sun-drenched spires of Titania, the Prince and future King, Julius Alexander!"
Julius stepped into the light, his regal posture making him look taller than his years. His sword of light hummed at his hip, its hilt reflecting the artificial suns above.
"And his opponent," the announcer continued, his voice reaching a fever pitch, "the Fifth Prince of the Kyo-Shang Empire, the whirlwind himself, Jett Lee! Let the battle begin!"
Jett entered with a relaxed, almost casual stride, his eyes dancing with a playful yet dangerous energy. The two princes met in the center of the obsidian stage, and without a word, the air ignited. The battle was a dazzling display of martial prowess and aura manipulation—a whirlwind of power and precision. Julius moved with the grace of a practiced fencer, his light-affinity aura forming a shimmering barrier around him, while Jett was a blur of golden movement, his strikes coming from angles that seemed to defy geometry.
As the exchange intensified, Jett leaped back, creating a brief pocket of space. With a subtle, deliberate movement, he began to unravel the heavy linen hand wrappings from his right forearm. A small, seemingly insignificant strip of the material slipped from his fingers. The moment it touched the obsidian stage, the sound wasn't a soft flutter, but a heavy, metallic thud. The solid stone floor didn't just crack; it formed a deep, craterous dent where the fabric landed.
The stadium fell into a stunned silence before the announcer's voice boomed in disbelief. "Wha… what did we just see? There's a crater in the stage! A piece of cloth just dented solid obsidian!"
Jett let out a confident smirk, his breathing steady despite the intensity of the fight. "Specialized Kyo-Shang weaving," he explained, looking at Julius's bewildered expression. "These wraps are infused with high-density aura storage crystals. They don't just act as weights for training; they absorb and compress my own mana. Without them, the restrictions are... lifted."
In a heartbeat, Jett didn't just move—he ceased to exist in the visual spectrum.
He's fast! I can barely see his afterimages! Julius thought, his eyes darting frantically as he channeled his light aura into his ocular nerves to compensate for the speed.
"Where did he go?!" the announcer screamed. "Jett Lee has vanished into air!"
Jett reappeared directly behind Julius, the air displaced by his sudden arrival sounding like a whip crack. He delivered a devastating blow to Julius's shoulder that sent the Titian prince flying across the stage like a ragdoll. Julius tried desperately to recover, attempting to use his light-sword to create a defensive arc, but Jett gave him no quarter.
The Kyo-Shang prince was a relentless storm. He followed up with a flurry of powerful attacks—hook, cross, and rising knee—each landing with bone-jarring force that bypassed Julius's shimmering defenses. Even with his light aura, Julius was unable to parry the sheer velocity of the strikes. Finally, Jett stepped into a perfectly timed lead-hook, striking Julius with a final, thunderous punch. The force knocked Julius unconscious before he even hit the ground, leaving him sprawling and motionless on the obsidian.
The announcer's voice was a frantic scream. "That's the match, folks! We have a winner! I don't think any of us—not a single person in this arena—thought Julius Alexander would be the one looking at the sky!"
Grandmagi Gold-crest walked onto the stage, his golden robes trailing behind him like a sunset. He looked down at the victorious Jett and the fallen Julius, his emerald gaze sweeping over the eighty thousand silent spectators. "What a wonderful exhibition!" the Grandmagi declared, his voice filled with a resonant pride. "These young mages are proving to us why they are the future of our nations. All of the mages watching today should be filled with nothing but absolute pride for the grit displayed here." He turned his attention toward the recovery station where George was being treated, and then back to Jett. "To our two remaining candidates: George Lydia and Jett Lee. Get your rest. In two days, you will compete in the final challenge. A challenge that will not only test your physical abilities but your inner strength as well. You will face the strongest opponent you will ever face: yourselves. May you rise above the challenges of tomorrow and forever."