The fire within Yuddhāgni Maṇḍala had barely settled from Maarun's explosive duel when the next match was called. The flames around the arena flickered, echoing with anticipation. Spectators leaned forward, murmurs spreading through the tiers. The name spoken next made even the wind pause.
"Aksharā vs. Indrāyaṇa."
Maarun, bandaged at the shoulder and sitting beside Dev, Roshan, and Rajyashrī in the medical row, looked up sharply.
"It's her match," he whispered.
Rajyashrī nodded. "And a big one. Indrāyaṇa's been gunning for her rank since last year. This isn't just a trial—it's a statement."
The arena shifted, new fire patterns dancing across the ground as Nirṇāyakaḥ, the referee, raised his arm.
From the left gate, Aksharā emerged—calm, composed, clad in her crimson training robes. Her long hair swayed behind her like a burning stream, her face unflinching. But her eyes—sharp and precise—scanned the battlefield like a tactician.
Opposite her, Indrāyaṇa strode out with confidence. Muscular, clad in coal-black robes with deep red linings, his posture screamed intensity. Sparks flickered on his palms already.
"Match… begin!" Nirṇāyakaḥ called.
In an instant, Indrāyaṇa dashed forward. He slammed his palms into the ground—an explosion of combustion rocketed toward Aksharā.
She sidestepped with elegance, forming a spinning fire ring with her left hand, parrying the blast. Without halting, she summoned another flame ring around her waist, then another over her shoulder.
"What is she doing?" Maarun leaned forward.
Rajyashrī smiled. "That's her style—Agnivṛtta Nritya. Dance of the Fire Circles."
Aksharā twirled between her own fire rings, weaving an elegant path across the arena. Her steps were fluid like water, but the fire circled around her with razor-sharp control.
Indrāyaṇa snarled. "Still hiding behind your pretty moves? Let's see you handle this!"
He clapped his hands and drew up a surge of combustion, igniting sparks mid-air. They exploded in chain reactions—sending heat blasts all around.
Maarun shielded his face. The heat was real even in the stands.
Aksharā slid low beneath the first wave, danced backward into her rings, and extended her arm. The fire responded. Her circles condensed and fired off like spinning wheels toward Indrāyaṇa.
He deflected two, but a third clipped his leg. Smoke curled from his trousers.
"She's not just dancing," Roshan murmured. "She's conducting."
The arena's edge glowed crimson as the battle intensified.
Indrāyaṇa leapt high, summoning twin columns of fire beneath his feet, propelling himself upward. From the air, he dropped three spheres of raw combustion down at Aksharā.
Gasps filled the crowd.
Aksharā closed her eyes. She whispered a short mantra and drew flame from the very ground. A glowing phoenix shape emerged, wings spanning wide, made entirely of moving fire.
"Ohhh snap," Dev muttered. "She summoned a freakin' bird!"
The phoenix soared upward and intercepted the fireballs mid-air—one by one they were absorbed and redirected. With a flick of her wrist, Aksharā guided the phoenix into a wide arc.
Indrāyaṇa landed heavily, panting now. "Not bad. But let's end this."
He stamped both feet and formed an angular pattern of ignition across the floor—a binding flame snare.
Aksharā, seeing the trap activate, smiled for the first time.
She flicked her arms out, spinning fire rings emerging around Indrāyaṇa. Four. Six. Eight. Each pulsing in rhythm.
"Agnivṛtta... Final Form," she whispered.
The rings began rotating rapidly, creating a wall of illusion and heat around him.
Indrāyaṇa blinked. "Where—where did she go?"
He tried to blast outward, but his own flames bent and twisted inside the rings.
From behind him, Aksharā's voice echoed. "You rely too much on power. And not enough on presence."
She stepped out of the shadows and snapped her fingers.
The rings imploded.
Not in fire—but in vacuum.
The sudden loss of pressure knocked Indrāyaṇa off his feet. He hit the ground hard, flames sputtering out.
Smoke drifted.
Silence.
Then thunderous applause.
Nirṇāyakaḥ raised his hand. "Winner—Aksharā of H1."
Maarun sat frozen. Her control. Her calm. Her precision.
"She doesn't fight fire," he murmured. "She becomes it."
Dev snorted. "You're totally in love, bro."
Roshan laughed. "Still out of your league."
Rajyashrī smirked. "Not if he learns to dance like that."
Aksharā bowed, fire still flickering around her feet.
Somewhere above the crowd, Principal Mahasthana and Tejodhāra watched in silence.
"Her composure," Tejodhāra said, "is beyond her years."
Mahasthana only nodded. "She is ready."
Back in the arena, Aksharā's eyes scanned the crowd. Briefly, they met Maarun's.
She gave a small nod. Then turned and walked away.