The arena seemed to hold its breath, the silence broken only by the faint crunch of packed earth beneath Jun Rassing's boots.
His presence dominated the space, an aura that commanded respect and power.
The metal of the long, slender spear he gripped gleamed coldly under the sunlight.
His steel-gray eyes scanned Mirac and Carmen with an unsettling calm, as if measuring their every breath.
Mirac, beneath his black mask, felt his heart pounding in his chest.
His mind raced, analyzing every detail of the situation:
'Jun Rassing, the President of the Association, once the second-strongest magical swordsman in the world, now stands before us as our examiner?!' Mirac swallowed hard, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, still in disbelief.
Beside him, Carmen maintained her usual impassive demeanor, but even she felt the weight of the imminent challenge.
Jun Rassing lowered the hand that had silenced the crowd, his movement fluid and measured, and exhaled a thick plume of smoke from his cigar.
After releasing the dense cloud, Jun broke the silence:
"You've accepted the letter of recommendation," he began, his deep voice resonating through the arena. "This means you must face me if you wish to claim the rewards it promises."
An excited murmur rose from the stands, but Jun ignored it, keeping his gaze fixed on the two young swordsmen.
"I know you have many questions, and I'm happy to answer them, but only after the Physical Test is complete. So, let's not waste any more time and begin immediately."
With that, Jun turned and stepped a few paces away.
Once he was a few meters distant, he paused, took a deep drag from his cigar, letting the smoke fill his lungs, and savored the moment.
Then, he turned back to face the two candidates.
"Your test will consist of showing me your full potential. So, don't hold back and let me see what you're capable of."
Mirac raised an eyebrow beneath his mask.
"So, we'll have to face you together? Both of us against you? Are you sure about that, Mr. President?" His tone carried an almost threatening edge, as if daring Jun to reconsider.
Jun, however, smiled.
"Heh! I may be old, but I suggest you don't underestimate me… As far as I'm concerned, you're the ones at a disadvantage," he said in a tone full of challenge. "And don't worry: if necessary, we have excellent Healers here at the Association," he added, gesturing vaguely with his thumb toward the entire headquarters behind him.
Mirac stared at him in silence, his eyes carefully following Jun's every movement, as if he were studying the opponent's rhythm and stance.
The moment Mirac had seen him step out of the corridor, his skill "Instant Knowledge of Age" had immediately revealed that Jun was 72 years old.
'At his age, I couldn't even stand on my feet for more than five minutes…' For a moment, Mirac found himself bitterly reflecting on his previous life, silently admiring the man's sturdiness.
It was then that, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Blake in the stands, sitting with his hands clasped in front of him, head tilted forward and eyes closed.
"Oh Kayro, mighty God of Fire and War, please aid my poor friends in this battle…"
Mirac raised an eyebrow beneath his mask.
"Why is he praying as if he's already certain we'll lose?" he muttered to himself, exasperated.
But Blake wasn't the only one doubting him and Carmen.
In the stands, tense voices and skeptical glances revealed the crowd's uncertainty about the upcoming clash.
"I don't get it… a letter of recommendation for these two?"
"Maybe they're friends with someone really influential…"
"Could be, but can they really hold their own against someone like President Jun?"
"I highly doubt it. Despite his age, he's still one of the Association's most formidable fighters…"
Mirac couldn't make out the exact words of the spectators' murmurs, but he didn't need to hear them to know they weren't flattering.
Yet, Mirac ignored them all, choosing not to give weight to their provocative stares.
From that moment on, there was only one thing he needed to focus on: the President of the Association!
When Mirac turned his gaze forward again, he saw Jun raising his spear with deliberate ease, almost casually. He twirled it in his hands with elegance, the metal slicing through the air with a low, precise hum, as if dancing.
Then, with a sharp motion, he stopped it and, smiling, said:
"Whenever you're ready…"
Carmen and Mirac didn't exchange a single word.
One way or another, they both thought the same thing: they had to coordinate perfectly if they wanted even a chance against an opponent of his caliber.
Mirac gave a slight nod, and Carmen replied with an equally firm gesture.
The masked boy took a deep breath, letting the Mana flow through his veins. He felt the magical energy warm his muscles, sharpen his reflexes, and make every movement smoother and more precise.
Beside him, Carmen did the same, a thin aura wrapping around her body like a second skin.
Then, without warning, with a perfectly synchronized motion, the two dashed forward, their blades gleaming under the sun.
Mirac darted to the left, his long sword raised for a swift strike aimed at Jun's flank, while Carmen moved to the right, her sword poised for a precise thrust at his shoulder.
In the stands, the spectators fell silent, their eyes wide as they watched the audacity of the two young swordsmen.
Jun, however, seeing the two swordsmen approach simultaneously, didn't flinch for even a moment.
With a smirk, his cigar exhaling wisps of smoke, he parried both attacks with a single, fluid motion of his spear.
His weapon moved with an almost unnatural speed, the shaft intercepting Mirac's sword with a metallic clang, deflecting it outward, while the spear's tip dodged Carmen's sword with a flick, sending it slicing through empty air.
The force of that single move was devastating: Mirac, caught off guard by the unexpected power, was thrown backward, landing behind Jun. Carmen, on the other hand, found herself pushed in front of the man, her feet slipping on the dusty ground, momentarily off balance, the dagger still clenched in her hand but off course.
Mirac, recovering from his initial shock, noticed with amazement the power of Jun's strike.
'He didn't even enhance himself with Mana!' he thought, his heart pounding.
Jun's raw strength was staggering, living proof that the burden of age had not diminished his power.
But there was no time to dwell.
With a shout, Mirac lunged at Jun again, aiming for his shoulders, while Carmen, with a decisive slash, attacked head-on, targeting his chest.
Some spectators leaned forward, their murmurs turning into whispers of astonishment.
Blake, now with both eyes open, rubbed his chin, a smile beginning to form.
"Come on, Blake! You don't need to worry… You know exactly what they're capable of! I'm sure they'll make it!" he murmured, as the crowd began to sense the true potential of the two challengers.
Jun, however, was always one step ahead.
With a swift, calculated motion, he thrust the spear forward toward Carmen, the tip gleaming under the sun.
The strike was so fast that Carmen had to halt abruptly, bending her knees and leaning her torso back to avoid the deadly trajectory.
The spear's tip grazed her chest, slicing a flap of her tunic as she stepped back quickly, her breath short but her eyes still locked on her opponent.
At that very moment, without even turning around, Jun swung the spear backward with a sharp, lightning-fast motion.
The blunt end struck Mirac square in the stomach with a dull thud, catching him completely off guard.
The masked boy hadn't expected such an attack, let alone from that direction, and doubled over in pain.
Before the young man could recover, Jun flicked his weapon upward, the tip of the shaft striking Mirac under the chin, snapping his head back. Then, with a smooth and lethal motion, Jun executed a spinning kick, his heel whipping toward Mirac's jaw like a lash.
The force of the strike was such that the very air seemed to vibrate, the movement as fast as lightning.
This time, however, Mirac managed to react on instinct.
With reflexes honed by years of training, he brought his sword up to shield his left cheek, right where the kick was about to land.
The blade intercepted Jun's foot with a metallic clang, but the sheer power of the blow was overwhelming.
Mirac was hurled backward, his body flying several meters before hitting the ground with a thud, raising a cloud of dust.
"Damn it!" he thought, as pain still throbbed in his stomach. 'Despite his age, his kicks are both powerful and incredibly fast!'
Meanwhile, Carmen, seizing the moment when Jun had turned toward Mirac, powered up her legs with Mana and lunged forward.
Her feet danced on the ground, light but determined, as she raised her sword for a slash aimed at the opponent's side.
The blade sliced through the air with a whistle, the strike meant to exploit Jun's brief distraction.
But Jun was far from caught off guard.
With a fluid, water-like motion, he spun the spear, the shaft intercepting Carmen's sword with a sharp sound.
The force of the block made Carmen's arm tremble, but she didn't give up, launching into a furious skirmish.
Carmen attacked with agility, every strike quick and precise, but the length of Jun's spear kept her from getting close enough to fully utilize her sword's potential.
Jun's spear tip moved like a serpent, blocking every strike, deflecting every thrust, maintaining a distance that became an insurmountable obstacle for Carmen.
The two faced off in a whirlwind of blows: metal sang with every clash, sparks flying through the air.
The crowd was now completely captivated.
Blake straightened his back, fists clenched and eyes shining with excitement.
"Come on, Ananya! Come on, Isaac!" he shouted, his voice joining with those of other spectators whose doubts were turning into cheers. "Don't give up!"
After recovering from the barrage of strikes from his opponent, Mirac lunged forward to support Carmen.
Jun, sensing the danger with an instinct honed by decades of battles, quickly changed his grip on the spear, passing the weapon from his right hand to his left with a movement so fast it seemed like an illusion.
With a cat-like flick, he then closed the distance with Carmen, his body moving with lethal grace.
Before she could react, Jun grabbed the wrist of her right hand—the one holding the sword—with an iron grip.
With brutal force, he threw her backward toward Mirac, who was coming up behind her.
Caught off guard, Carmen couldn't resist and was knocked away, but she managed to turn the momentum into an elegant somersault, landing lightly a few meters away and immediately returning to a fighting stance.
Now it was Mirac's turn, facing Jun head-on.
He tried every technique at his disposal: quick slashes, precise thrusts, feints to confuse his opponent.
But Jun blocked every strike with a mastery that seemed almost supernatural, the spear moving like an extension of his body, keeping Mirac at a safe distance.
Unable to close the gap, Mirac felt frustration mounting.
But then, an idea struck him.
At one point, with apparent hesitation, he took a step back, pretending to lose his balance.
His feet slipped on the dusty ground, his body tilting as if about to fall.
Seeing the opening, Jun didn't hesitate: with a swift thrust, the spear darted toward the young man's chest, the tip sparkling like a shooting star.
But Mirac had anticipated the move.
With Mana suddenly boosting his body, he dodged the spear, bending sideways like a leaf blown by the wind.
In an instant, he rolled over the spear's shaft, using it as leverage to close the distance with Jun.
He landed right next to his opponent, his sword already raised for a downward slash aimed at Jun's head.
Caught off guard, Jun reacted instinctively.
His free hand shot up to block the blade, the palm closing around the metal with a muffled sound—without tearing the skin or leaving a mark.
Mirac's eyes widened. In that split second, he activated Magical Perception, letting Mana flow into his eyes and allowing him to see what would have gone unnoticed to the naked eye: Jun's body, and in particular his lungs and his hand, were wrapped in an energy that felt surprisingly familiar…
At that sight, Mirac had no doubt: for the first time since the start of the fight, the President of the Association had used Mana to strengthen his own body—and thus grab a blade with bare hands without getting the slightest scratch.
'Nice move, kid,' Jun thought, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
With a low chuckle, Jun blew a cloud of smoke from his cigar into Mirac's face, the dense gray veil obscuring his vision.
'What the-?' Mirac thought, momentarily blinded.
Seizing the moment, Jun infused his entire arm with Mana and, with a decisive gesture, flung the young man's weapon away. Mirac, gripping it tightly, was dragged along and catapulted into the air, his body rising upwards, spinning uncontrollably.
While Mirac was still airborne, Jun empowered his throat with Mana and took a deep breath.
Then, after removing the cigar from his mouth, he spat a wave of fire toward the young man, the flames illuminating the arena like a rising sun.
Mirac, regaining sight once away from the smoke, found himself facing a wall of flames rushing toward him.
'Shit!' he exclaimed inwardly.
In mid-air, with nothing to hold onto, Mirac seemed doomed.
But at that critical moment, Carmen sprang into action to save him.
With her legs powered by Mana, she made a prodigious leap, her body soaring through the air like an eagle.
She reached Mirac before the fire could engulf him, her eyes burning with determination.
Not even he could explain how, but in that suspended moment, without words, Mirac understood the intentions of the red-haired woman.
Instinctively, then, he extended his sword toward her—the metal reflecting the glow of the incoming flames.
Carmen grabbed Mirac's sword with her left hand, Mana coursing along her arms and torso, strengthening every fiber of her body.
Then, with a fluid, spinning motion, Carmen pulled Mirac downward while he, gripping the sword's hilt tightly, helped propel her upward.
Their reciprocal, synchronized momentum separated them at just the right moment, like a perfect dance, allowing Carmen to rise even higher than Mirac's previous position, thus dodging the wave of fire raging beneath her.
Mirac landed on the ground, his legs empowered by Mana to absorb the impact of the fall.
Still in flight, suspended above the flames roaring from Jun's mouth, Carmen quickly drew the dagger she carried at her side. The entire weapon—not just the blade—was enveloped in a faint blue glow, visible only to those who had activated Magical Perception: a sign it had been deeply enhanced with Mana.
With a lightning-fast gesture, Carmen threw the small weapon at Jun.
Thanks to the energy permeating it, the dagger's trajectory remained straight and precise, ignoring air pressure and even the turbulence of the fire.
And so, the blade sliced through the flames like a wild lightning bolt, heading straight for its target.
To dodge the incoming dagger, Jun was forced to interrupt his fiery roar and take a step back. In doing so, he avoided being struck full on the forehead, while the blade embedded itself in the ground a few centimeters from his feet, vibrating.
Mirac, now landed, stepped forward a few paces, dust rising beneath his boots.
Carmen landed to his left with her usual grace, her red hair waving like a flag in the wind.
The crowd in the stands erupted in a roar of amazement, their shouts blending into a chorus of enthusiasm.
Blake, who had tensed moments before at the wave of fire that threatened them both, now clapped vigorously, his face lit up with unrestrained admiration.
"A-Amazing! They're nothing short of extraordinary!" he shouted, as the spectators, now completely won over, began chanting the names Isaac (Mirac) and Ananya (Carmen). "I almost regret having underestimated them before…"
Meanwhile, the two candidates paused for a moment, staring at Jun, who regarded them with a sly smile, his cigar back between his lips.
"Not bad," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipated in the warm air.
Mirac and Carmen exchanged a glance, their breaths short but their spirits still ablaze.
"Damn, that was close!" muttered Mirac, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Yeah…" Carmen replied, eyes fixed on Jun. "From the very beginning, his intention was to set a trap for us. The spear gives him a greater range of attack compared to our swords. And that's exactly why he chose to use one instead of a sword: to prevent us from getting close easily and, at the same time, to instill—even if only subconsciously—the need to close the distance with him to make the most of our weapons' potential. That way, he succeeded in his plan to catch us off guard with his fiery roar, because he distracted us and made us forget his real strength, the thing we should have feared and considered from the very beginning: that he is a pyromancer!"
Mirac nodded, his face tense. "You're right. I was so focused on getting close to attack him head-on that I practically forgot about that detail. Luckily, though, he doesn't seem as skilled with the spear as he would be with a sword. And that gives us a huge advantage, one that would be a mistake to underestimate or ignore."
"Maybe, but in any case, we have no other choice: if we want to win, we have to somehow disarm him, while always being careful of his fire attacks!" exclaimed Carmen, her hand gripping the sword's hilt with renewed determination.
Mirac nodded, agreeing with what Carmen said.
However, their plan was easier said than done.
Looking for an idea to make their intentions concrete, Mirac narrowed his eyes and let his thoughts drift elsewhere.
In past years, when he still lived in the royal palace as a Prince, his training had been overseen by the current second strongest magical swordsman in the world: the Grand Knight Leonard.
And as expected from the holder of such a title, the man was not only a sword expert, but also a powerful pyromancer!
However, during training, Leonard had always limited the use of his flames to simple demonstrations: small fireballs, controlled bursts of flame, nothing that could seriously endanger the young heir.
The lessons on elemental fire magic, therefore, were always held elsewhere, during theory hours.
Leonard had patiently and rigorously instructed him on the various properties of magical fire, the strategies of pyromancers, their weaknesses, and their limits.
They had talked about internal pressure, channeling, dispersion, controlled combustion, and much more.
Complex notions that at the time seemed excessive to him… but now resurfaced with surprising clarity!
Thinking back on those days, and putting together everything he had just observed about Jun's attack, Mirac began to glimpse a common thread.
At first, there seemed to be no other option but to endure and try to find an opening, maybe relying on luck or a sudden distraction of the opponent.
But then, one detail struck him like a lightning bolt, almost making him jump:
'Wait a minute!' he exclaimed intensely. 'A man of his age, why would he fight with a cigar? It wouldn't make sense for an experienced warrior like him to indulge in such a vice in the middle of a fight, just for the intoxicating thrill of tobacco. Unless…!'
Mirac's eyes lit up behind the mask, and a smile curled his lips.
If his instinct was right, then Mirac had just found the key point to turn the tide of the fight.
"Ananya…" Mirac murmured, using Carmen's fake name. She turned around, an eyebrow raised, and he continued, his voice low but full of determination: "I have a plan…!"