Zephyr saw the smirk and couldn't help but feel it was directed at him.
His grip on his staff tightened instinctively, his knuckles turning white.
'I see how it is…' He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
'A mage shouldn't let his emotions interfere with his focus…'
No matter how much his pride burned, Zephyr couldn't afford to let it cloud his mind.
Losing focus meant miscalculating his mana consumption, and without mana, he was nothing.
Unlike other classes that could rely on brute strength or weapons, he was utterly dependent on mana.
There was no fallback plan, no second option.
He had to win through sheer mastery of magic skills.
Zephyr's gaze flickered over his own body as his lips curled into a grin, teeth glinting under the stadium's lights.
'Victory is inevitable.' The thought sent a surge of anticipation through him, and he had to suppress the urge to laugh.
On the other side of the platform, Luka was still lost in thought, daydreaming about the magic ring.
