The Golden Lion stared at his trembling hands, disbelief etched into his soot-streaked face. He'd lost.
Why? The question screamed through his fractured pride. I broke through to seventh rank! His gaze drifted vacantly across battle-scarred palms. How could enhanced strength and purer battle aura still fail against a sixth-rank mage?
Warrior Academy's section sat in stunned silence. "Impossible..." a spectator muttered. "Seventh versus sixth should be absolute domination!"
"Unthinkable."
"Wouldn't believe it without witnessing..."
Yet reality proved merciless.
Kael's terrifying ascent now trampled the Golden Lion's reputation as stepping stones. With this victory, he claimed the final Top Eight slot. Magic Academy's supporters erupted in primal roars, their cheers shaking the arena's foundations.
"Gods above!" Vesper's amplified voice boomed. "Kael secures First Zone's championship spot! The prodigy storms into the quarterfinals!"
Amid the pandemonium, the Golden Lion rasped through cracked lips: "Why?"
"You worship raw power blindly," Kael replied, echoing Ethan's teachings.
The revelation had struck him earlier – ranks mattered, but weren't absolute. True strength lay beyond mere level advancement.
The Golden Lion embodied this failing. Though seventh-rank energy surged through him, his control remained sixth-tier at best – a child wielding a godslayer blade.
Meanwhile, Kael's embryonic composite magic bridged the rank gap. Against a freshly promoted warrior still stumbling through newfound power, victory was inevitable.
The Golden Lion remained motionless, vacant eyes fixed on Kael. His spirit had shattered under the weight of defeat. Without confronting his flaws, this once-promising warrior risked permanent decline – a fate far worse than losing a match.
Kael's dominance in this battle had been absolute. From composite magic to summoning prowess and frostfire mutation, his arsenal redefined what a sixth-rank mage could achieve.
"A true monstrosity," remarked the elder mage in the VIP seats. "To master summoning while pioneering composite spells… Where did this boy even come from, Austin? Your Flamecrest Academy has birthed another Ethan-caliber prodigy."
Austin stroked his beard, barely containing his smugness. "Naturally. Flamecrest students have always outshined the other three academies. Tell me, old friend – how fares your disciple in the rankings?"
Their banter halted as Ethan's uncharacteristic glee drew attention. The legendary mage practically glowed with pride, Zorath smirking beside him.
Austin narrowed his eyes. "Old fool… Don't tell me…"
"Correct!" Ethan puffed out his chest, heedless of decorum. "Kael is my personal apprentice! Every shred of his genius stems from my guidance!"
"Your apprentice?" Austin and the Alchemy King exchanged dubious glances. Both knew Ethan's expertise lay in combat magic and alchemy, not the medicinal arts Kael had mastered.
"Certified and documented!" Ethan crowed, relishing Austin's disbelief.
The academy head sighed. His old friend's childish competitiveness hadn't waned with age. Still, the implications were staggering – if Kael truly absorbed knowledge at this rate under Ethan's mentorship, the boy might reshape magical paradigms entirely.
So the boy's alchemy mentor remains a mystery, but his magical tutelage clearly traces to Ethan,Austin mused silently.
The revelation eased the crowd's bewilderment. Ethan's legendary status in arcane circles provided convenient justification for Kael's monstrous talent – though none present realized the truth of their mentorship's casual nature.
Savoring the mages' gaping expressions, Ethan wore the grin of a prankster who'd pulled off the perfect jest.
"With this," Vesper roared through the Voice-Projection Crystal, "the Martial-Magic Tournament's Elite Eight stand confirmed!"
A hush fell as all eyes locked onto the central projection crystal. Glowing runes materialized across its surface:
First Zone Victor: Kael
Second Zone Victor: 'Berserker' Ethan
Third Zone Victor: 'Mad Demon' Andrew
Fourth Zone Victor: 'Earth Sovereign' Dylan
Fifth Zone Victor: Patrick
Sixth Zone Victor: Eric
Seventh Zone Victor: Finn
Eighth Zone Victor: Amelia
Kael studied the list. Familiar names dominated – Ethan, Dylan, Andrew (last tournament's fourth-ranked contender), Finn, and Amelia. The newcomers Patrick and Eric drew his scrutiny; absent from previous tournaments, their sudden rise underscored this year's brutal competition. Notable veterans like Jack and Jaxon had been entirely purged from the rankings.
The stage was set. Among these eight, legends would be forged – and dynasties shattered.
Kael stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Amelia, while Finn lingered pitifully nearby. Typical Finn luck, Kael mused. The Seventh Zone's lackluster competitors had handed his friend a quarterfinal slot with minimal effort.
"Patrick and Eric?" Finn snorted, overhearing their analysis. "Mid-sixth-rank scrubs. Patrick especially – I'd flatten him in a heartbeat!" He rubbed his hands, already envisioning another underdog victory.
Kael and Amelia exchanged amused glances. Their silent pact held: avoid each other in the brackets. Both aimed for the Sacred Assembly's coveted opportunity – a prize reserved for top-three finishers.
"'Elite Eight, approach for the quarterfinal draw!'" Vesper's amplified voice boomed as he deactivated the projection crystal.
Groaning internally, Kael ascended the stage flanked by Amelia and a snickering Finn. Ethan and Dylan followed amid thunderous cheers from their supporters.
"'Draw your fate, young Kael!'" Vesper winked theatrically.
Ignoring the lecherous old coot, Kael plunged his hand into the token box. The cold metallic tokens clinked ominously – harbingers of battles yet to come.