Round 2 – Match 8
Varek vs Cassian
The arena floor shimmered beneath the mana barrier.
The crowd was louder now.
Round 2 had already proven one thing — no one was holding back anymore.
The announcer's voice echoed.
"Match Eight! Varek of the Iron Bastion… versus Cassian of the Arc Division!"
Cheers erupted.
---
Entrance
Varek stepped into the ring first.
Heavy boots.
Metal shoulder guards.
A broad war blade resting on his shoulder.
CLANG.
He dropped it to the stone floor casually.
The ground cracked slightly.
Gasps.
He wasn't flashy.
He was solid.
Unmoving.
Unbreakable.
---
Cassian walked in next.
Calm.
Composed.
A long silver-edged blade in one hand.
In the other — thin threads of violet mana weaving like strings between his fingers.
Whispers spread through the audience.
"He controls mana threads…"
"He can manipulate trajectories…"
"This will be interesting…"
---
The bell rang.
CLANG!
---
The Battle Begins
Varek moved first.
He slammed his blade down—
BOOOOM!
The shockwave tore across the arena floor.
Cassian leapt back—
"Too slow!" Varek roared.
He charged.
Each step thundered.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Cassian narrowed his eyes.
Heavy. Direct. Brutal.
He flicked his fingers.
The mana threads shot forward—
WHSSSH!
They wrapped around Varek's blade mid-swing.
The impact shifted.
The blade's angle bent slightly off course.
Varek's strike smashed the arena floor instead of Cassian.
"Trying to control my weapon?" Varek growled.
Cassian smirked slightly.
"Just redirecting it."
---
Power vs Precision
Varek tore the threads apart with sheer force.
SNAP! SNAP!
He lifted his blade and spun—
WHOOM!
A full circular slash.
Cassian ducked—
His coat sliced slightly.
He retaliated instantly—
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Three rapid strikes.
Chest. Shoulder. Knee.
But—
Metal reinforcement.
Varek had hardened his body with defensive mana layering.
Sparks flew.
Cassian clicked his tongue.
"Not bad defense."
Varek smirked.
"Not bad speed."
Then—
He slammed his fist into the ground.
BOOOOM!
Stone shards erupted upward.
Cassian leapt—
Mid-air—
Varek was already there.
"Got you!"
Blade descending.
---
The Turning Point
Cassian's eyes sharpened.
His mana threads extended outward.
Not at Varek—
But at the falling stone debris.
He pulled.
The rocks shifted mid-air—
Varek's vision blocked for half a second.
Cassian twisted mid-air—
"Checkmate."
He wrapped threads around Varek's ankle—
Yanked hard—
At the same time—
He kicked Varek's chest.
THUD!
The giant staggered.
One step.
Two steps.
Near the ring's edge.
Varek roared—
He stabbed his blade into the arena floor to anchor himself.
The blade held.
The crowd roared louder.
"YES!!"
---
Final Exchange
Cassian didn't hesitate.
He dashed forward.
Mana threads glowing brighter.
He wrapped them around Varek's planted blade—
Pulled upward—
At the same time—
He lunged forward with a spinning slash.
CLAAANG!!
The planted blade tore free.
Varek lost balance for a split second.
That was enough.
Cassian twisted his body—
Shoulder ram—
BOOM!
Varek stumbled backward—
His heel crossed the boundary.
Then his entire body fell outside the ring.
THUD!!!
Silence.
Then—
"OUT OF THE RING!"
The referee raised a hand.
"Cassian wins!"
---
Aftermath
Varek sat outside the ring… then burst into laughter.
"Hah! That was good."
Cassian offered a hand.
"You were terrifying."
They shook hands.
The crowd applauded.
Teachers nodded.
This was no longer just a school tournament.
This was evolving into something far more serious.
---
Up in the high balcony—
The Headmaster stood silently.
His silver hair shifted in the wind.
Headmaster Adlaric Dain
His sharp eyes scanned the arena.
So many promising talents.
So many paths diverging.
His gaze briefly moved toward Iren.
Then back to the bracket.
A faint, thoughtful smile appeared.
The quarterfinals were near.
And something about this year…
Felt different.
Round 2 is now complete.
---
The sky above the academy slowly darkened.
Gold turned to amber.
Amber turned to violet.
Violet drowned into deep midnight blue.
The arena lights dimmed one by one.
Students were still buzzing with excitement.
"Iren's fire…"
"Cassian's threads…"
"Did you see that phase strike?"
"Quarterfinals are going to be insane!"
The announcer's voice echoed through the fading light.
"Round 2 has concluded."
A pause.
"The Quarterfinals will begin after one week."
A ripple spread instantly.
"One week?"
"Training time…"
"That changes everything…"
"All students are dismissed."
A collective murmur followed.
Chairs scraped.
Footsteps echoed.
The great mana barrier surrounding the arena flickered—
—and vanished.
---
The Departure
Teachers gathered their scrolls and notes.
Some whispered among themselves.
"His control was too precise…"
"That wasn't normal reinforcement…"
"You felt it too, didn't you?"
But none spoke further.
Even they chose silence.
High above, on the balcony—
Headmaster Aldaric Dain stood still.
Wind brushed his long coat.
His sharp eyes were not on the bracket.
They were on one person.
Iren.
Then—
He turned and walked away without a word.
---
Dormitory Hallways – Later
The academy corridors had grown quiet.
Lantern crystals glowed softly along the walls.
A calm, pale light.
Students returned to their assigned rooms.
Laughter echoed faintly from distant wings.
Doors closed one after another.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Lyra walked with calm, measured steps.
Riven stretched his shoulders lazily.
"Man… a week's gonna feel long."
Sylven exhaled.
"Or short, depending on how you train."
They continued down the corridor, already discussing strategies.
Everyone had something to think about.
Everyone had someone to face next.
Everyone…
Except one.
---
Iren
Iren walked alone.
His footsteps echoed softly.
TAP… TAP… TAP…
His mind replayed the match.
The speed…
The daggers…
The steam…
He clenched his hand slightly.
The Fire Ring rested quietly against his skin.
Dormitory Wing C.
Room 17.
He stopped in front of the door.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then—
Footsteps approached from behind.
TAP… TAP…
"Iren."
A calm voice.
Iren turned.
A middle-aged instructor stood there, robes slightly swaying.
"Headmaster Aldaric Dain has requested your presence."
The corridor felt still.
"…Now?" Iren asked.
The instructor nodded.
"Immediately."
A faint tension spread among nearby students.
Whispers began.
"The headmaster called him?"
"Why Iren?"
"Did something happen?"
Iren's expression did not change.
"Understood."
He turned fully.
"I'll go."
---
The Walk
The instructor led the way.
Footsteps echoed through the quiet halls.
TAP… TAP… TAP…
Lantern lights flickered slightly as they passed.
No words were exchanged.
The deeper they walked—
The quieter the academy became.
Until—
They reached the end of a long corridor.
A large door stood before them.
Heavy.
Silent.
Imposing.
The Headmaster's Office.
The instructor stopped.
"You may enter."
Then stepped aside.
Iren stood before the door.
For a brief moment—
He said nothing.
> This isn't about the match.
Slowly—
He pushed the door open.
CREEEEEEAK…
Darkness waited inside.
He stepped forward.
The door began to close behind him.
Slowly.
Silently.
Click.
---
End of Volume 2
The Quarterfinals will begin in one week.
But tonight…
Something else begins....