"Senior Jaxon actually lost!" The girl stomped her foot in frustration, her fingers digging into Kael's sleeve as if anchoring herself. Her wide eyes darted between the fallen mage and the triumphant warrior, oblivious to how her earnest school spirit mirrored Earth's model students.
Across the courtyard, Jack loomed over his rival. "Three months until the tournament won't change your fate," he sneered, combat aura flaring dangerously.
Jaxon wiped blood from his lips, defiance clinging to his battered form. "Three months... is plenty of time."
Jack's claymore ignited anew. The girl lunged forward, spreading her arms before the injured mage. "He's already defeated! Have you no honor?"
"Honor?" The warrior swung his arm. A gale of combat aura flung her sideways into the crowd. Mages shouted protests as Jack leveled his blade at Jaxon's chest.
Closing his eyes, Jaxon braced for the strike. Three months of recovery would indeed jeopardize his preparation—exactly what Jack intended.
A thunderous crash echoed.
Heat washed over Jaxon's face. He blinked at the shimmering crimson barrier inches from his nose—an intricate lattice of fire runics intercepting Jack's blade.
"Inferno Ward."
All heads turned. Kael stood with staff raised casually, the magical barrier's glow reflecting in his calm eyes. Jack's snarled exertion filled the sudden silence as his flaming sword strained uselessly against the elemental defense.
"You—!"
"You—?"
Jack's furious snarl overlapped with Jaxon's stunned gasp.
Ignoring the warrior's glare, Kael turned to the fallen mage. "Still breathing?" Though their prior duel had ended in Jaxon's defeat, the noble's current grit earned a sliver of respect.
Jaxon coughed blood into his sleeve. "Thanks... for that."
The momentary civility shattered as Jack slammed his claymore's pommel against stone. "So the bookworms brought a backup mage?" His laughter carried no mirth. "Run along, rookie. This isn't storytime."
"Freshmeat thinks he's special!" a Blaze Citadel lackey jeered.
Kael spun his staff lazily. "Actually, I came to challenge you, Jack."
The warrior's grin turned feral. "Bold words from someone hiding behind shields." He lunged without warning, claymore trailing crimson afterimages—a brutal overhead strike accelerated by fifth-tier combat aura.
Inferno Ward flared anew.
The collision blasted chips from the courtyard flagstones. Jack's eyes narrowed behind the fiery barrier; this unknown mage had conjured a peak-tier defensive spell mid-charge. Worse, the crimson lattice showed no stress fractures.
"Fast casting..." Jack growled through clenched teeth. He disengaged with a ground-shaking leap, combat aura surging to late fifth-tier intensity. Dust devils swirled around his boots as nearby pebbles levitated in the oppressive energy field.
Blaze Citadel adherents roared approval. This was their champion incarnate—raw power made flesh, the living antithesis to fragile magecraft.
Kael adjusted his grip on the Earthflare Staff. Across the seething aura, Jack's claymore began cycling through ominous glow patterns—preparation for something far deadlier than standard sword arts.
Kael's staff flared as silver sigils spiraled around its tip—the first public manifestation of his celestial markings. Gasps rippled through the mages. No incantation. No preparatory gestures. Just instantaneous spellcraft defying all academic principles.
"Infernal Grasp."
The five-meter talion materialized mid-swing, its molten claws eclipsing the sun. Jack barely raised his claymore before the construct hammered downward. Fifth-tier combat aura shredded like parchment beneath the primordial flames.
Stone shattered. The warrior cratered into the flagstones, his armor steaming as the demonic hand dissolved. A crimson splatter followed—half blood, half vomit.
Silence gripped the courtyard.
Kael lowered his staff. Across the smoldering pit, Jack twitched feebly, his vaunted aura extinguished. Blaze Citadel's jeers died in throats gone dry.
One spell.
Mages exchanged disbelieving glances. Three years of humiliation overturned in five seconds. The girl who'd dragged Kael here gaped at the shallow-breathing warrior, then at the unruffled transfer student.
"Senior Jaxon's... eleventh rank last tournament," she whispered numbly. "But Jack was tenth..."
Her voice trailed off as implications crystallized. If this unknown mage could obliterate tenth rank with casual ease—what did that make Celestial Haven's standing?
Across the battlefield, Jaxon stared at his rescuer with dawning comprehension. The duel weeks prior hadn't been a fluke. Nor had Kael shown even half his true capabilities.
As Cloudspire's bells tolled the hour, the courtyard erupted in a deafening roar of triumph—three years of pent-up frustration unleashed through a single name.
"KAEL!"
Blaze Citadel adherents slunk away, their fallen champion forgotten. Beneath the tower's ancient stones, tectonic shifts began in more ways than one.