The battlefield raged on.
Across the forest clearing, Rowan's noble companions—Jasmine and Kenneth—were locked in a fierce duel with a high-ranking elven knight. A towering female warrior with long braided hair and piercing green eyes, her name was Yelena, and she wielded a double-headed axe laced with moonstone and elven runes.
She charged, axe raised high, and brought it down with a thundering crash.
CLANG!
Her weapon collided with the duo's conjured mana shield, sparks flying as energy crackled through the air. The impact forced both nobles to grit their teeth, digging their heels into the ground to hold their position.
As Yelena's axe recoiled, Jasmine and Kenneth didn't miss a beat.
"Vendemos Lumen!" Kenneth shouted, extending both hands. Dozens of light beams burst from his wand like radiant lances, cascading toward their enemy.
"Azim Azim!" Jasmine followed up with a twirl of her wand. A swirling pink mist emerged and billowed toward Yelena, thick and sweet-scented. It shimmered under the afternoon sun—a powerful sleeping spell, designed to lull even the fiercest mind into slumber.
For a moment, they thought it might work.
But Yelena stepped through the light beams with shocking speed, barely singed, and leapt clear of the gas.
With a snarl, she raised her axe overhead and slammed it into the ground.
BOOOOOOM!
The resulting shockwave rippled across the battlefield like a quake. Jasmine and Kenneth were launched backward, tumbling through dirt and leaves, their shields flickering as they hit the ground with a grunt.
Yelena stood tall, seemingly untouched, her axe buried in the cracked earth, her eyes glowing with feral precision.
Elsewhere, chaos tore through the battlefield.
Spells flashed, screams echoed, and the scent of burning leaves filled the air. Blood—both human and elven—stained the forest floor.
"Mandri Alquin!" Alexia shouted from behind a crumbled tree.
Vines erupted from the soil, thick and fast, wrapping around a lunging elf's limbs and torso. The roots coiled and snapped tight, yanking him off his feet with a sickening crunch.
Not far off, Florence was locked in his own battle.
"Olympia!" he roared, summoning a storm of lightning bolts. Two of them struck his elven opponent dead-on, the force enough to send the enemy skidding through the dirt.
But the elf wasn't down for long.
He rose, bloodied but smirking, and let loose a barrage of arrows. The missiles whistled through the air toward Florence—
"Whisora Gale!" Florence countered, spinning once as a powerful gust of wind burst from his wand. The arrows were diverted, slamming harmlessly into tree trunks.
Breathing heavily, he steadied himself. "Okay, now you've made me mad."
High above, back at the institution, the audience watched through the massive orb hovering over the arena—an enchanted viewing relic that mirrored the battlefield in real time.
Inside the Grand Hall, nobles, professors, and elders observed in hushed tension.
"Stay strong, Ymir," whispered Darien, her uncle, clenching his fist in silent prayer. His eyes never left the image of his niece surrounded by smoke, spells, and danger.
Back in the forest, the true storm still raged—Elvis, Head Knight of the Elven Kingdom, stood face to face with Ymir and Rowan.
Barrages of elemental attacks were being hurled his way—spears of ice, bursts of flame, discs of air and stone—but Elvis danced between them with frightening grace. He moved like water, like wind—untouched, unfazed.
He raised his hand and slashed it sideways through the air.
A wave of wind and upturned earth shot toward Rowan and Ymir.
"Move!" Rowan ordered.
They both leapt away just in time, the blast tearing through the space they had just occupied.
Ymir rolled to her feet. "He's getting faster…"
"That's it," Rowan growled, his voice sharp with pride and frustration. "I'm done playing games."
He reached up and tore off his cloak, letting it fall to the dirt. His silver-trimmed uniform gleamed with mana veins.
"Now you'll see the difference between a commoner and a royal."
He raised his wand high, fire building beneath his feet in a wide glowing circle etched in flame.
"Ko: Inferno Leo!"
The air shimmered, the circle erupting in a roar of flames.
From within it, three enormous fire lions rose, each one with burning eyes and glowing fangs, their manes licking the air like wildfire. They let out a synchronized roar that shook the trees.
Ymir stared, wide-eyed. "He can use advanced magic like me?" she muttered. "So he really is strong…"
The three flaming lions charged at Elvis, their massive forms galloping through the clearing, leaving scorched earth in their wake.
Elvis stood still, smile finally fading, as his mana began to flare even higher.
He raised his hand.
The first lion lunged.
BOOM!
A blast of mana—pure force—collided with the beast and dispersed it into flames.
The second came from behind.
Elvis whirled, dodging low, then twisted his blade in a spiral arc, cutting through the lion's core.
The third came in hot—Elvis leapt onto its back, driving his blade into its flaming spine. The creature roared once, then exploded. However Elvis was slightly caught in the explosion.
He landed smoothly on the scorched ground.
Ymir stepped beside Rowan again, eyebrows furrowed.
"You saw that?" she said.
Rowan scoffed. "Obviously."
"Now what?"
"We hit him again. Harder."
She nodded. "Together?"
"…Fine."
With a shout, they both raised their wands. Rowan's fire roared. Ymir's mana surged.
From the trees, Kenneth, Jasmine, Florence, and Alexia—bloodied, drained, but alive—stood and prepared their next spells. Survivors from both parties gathered behind them, bruised but burning with determination.
Elvis watched it all, his grin slowly returning.
"Good," he said. "This might be fun after all."