The noise from Ansh's match still echoed through the Academy grounds — chants of his name bouncing off marble walls and echoing into open courtyards.
Vijay sat quietly on a stone bench near Arena Two, his sword still sheathed at his side. He didn't grin or boast like Ansh — instead, his face was calm, almost blank. Daav perched nearby, still humming with excitement.
Ashwini was fuming.
"I still can't believe he called us unworthy," she said, arms crossed tightly. "That Rohan! He acts like he owns this place just because his grandpa's a Council member!"
Ansh was busy munching on something fried, crumbs on his shirt.
"Yeah," he said through a mouthful. "He's just jealous 'cause Rajyugas actually likes us."
Ashwini glared. "You mean tolerates you."
"Same thing."
Before they could argue more, a messenger in Academy uniform approached. "Disciple Vijay Bharadwaj. You've been challenged to a duel in Arena Two."
Ansh choked on his food. "What!? Already?"
Vijay stood slowly, brushing dust from his robe. "It's fine," he said quietly. "I expected it."
Ashwini frowned. "Who's the challenger?"
The messenger looked down at his list. "Body cultivator… Taren Var. Subordinate of Disciple Rohan."
Ansh jumped to his feet. "Again with Rohan's people!"
Ashwini slammed her fist in her palm. "He's testing us. One by one."
Vijay just smiled faintly. "Then let him see what we've learned."
The arena floor for body cultivators was different — no floating platforms or sand pits. Just solid stone reinforced by magic.
Taren Var entered first — tall for his age, his muscles corded tight, a faint reddish aura pulsing under his skin. Each step he took left a crack on the ground.
When Vijay stepped in, there was no glow, no fancy energy. Just calm eyes and a slow breath.
The referee raised his arm. "Match begins!"
The next instant, Taren moved — a blur of red muscle and power. His fist slammed into the ground where Vijay had stood, shattering stone.
But Vijay was already gone — he'd side-stepped at the last moment, calm and quiet.
Taren grinned. "Fast reflexes. But dodging won't win."
He charged again, fist swinging like a hammer. Vijay ducked, blocked with his forearm — the shock rippled through his whole body, numbing his arm.
Vijay stumbled back, grimacing. Strong. He's not just muscle — he's channeling inner force too.
Ansh yelled from the stands, "Come on, Vijay! Hit him back! You're stronger than him!"
Vijay's eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe," he murmured, "but I don't need to prove that."
Taren came again, spinning midair for a kick. Vijay crossed his arms to block — thud! The force sent him sliding across the arena floor, his boots scraping against stone.
Dust rose in clouds.
Ashwini leaned forward anxiously. "He's getting pushed back."
Ansh clenched his fists. "No, look at his stance. He's studying the rhythm."
Down below, Vijay steadied his breathing. He'd learned this from Rajyugas — listen to the flow of movement, not just the attack.
Taren lunged once more — this time, Vijay didn't retreat. He stepped forward, inside the punch, twisted his arm around, and struck the cultivator's ribs with his palm.
Boom!
The air rippled. Taren grunted, backing off, his aura flickering.
Vijay exhaled softly. "You rely too much on strength. You leave your balance open."
Taren's eyes flashed red. "Don't act like you're above me!"
He roared, his whole body glowing — veins lighting up like molten lines. The ground cracked beneath him. He leapt high and came crashing down, fists blazing with energy.
The impact shook the entire arena. Dust burst outward in waves.
When the haze cleared, Taren was panting… and Vijay stood a few feet away, arm raised, having redirected the blow at the last second.
Then, before Taren could recover, Vijay moved — a sharp, clean kick to his leg, followed by a strike to his chest.
Taren stumbled back. His aura flickered again, then vanished entirely.
He fell to one knee.
The referee raised a hand. "Winner — Vijay Bharadwaj!"
The audience erupted in cheers again — though not as wildly as with Ansh's fiery fight. Vijay simply bowed slightly, offered a hand to help Taren up, and said, "Good match."
Taren blinked in surprise — then took the hand.
Ansh came running. "You did it! I thought he'd crush you into the floor!"
Vijay sighed. "That was your encouragement?"
Ashwini smiled faintly. "You handled that better than anyone expected."
Vijay just shrugged. "Rajyugas said to fight like flowing water. I just… flowed."
Ashwini looked back toward the higher stands where Rohan sat — calm-faced, arms folded, eyes sharp. Even from that distance, she could feel his arrogance.
She clenched her fists. "He keeps sending others to test us… like we're toys."
Ansh grinned. "Let him. We'll just keep winning."
But Ashwini wasn't smiling. "No. I'm done waiting."
She turned, eyes blazing. "If he wants to prove who deserves Rajyugas' attention, he can prove it himself."
Ansh blinked. "Ash… what are you—"
She walked to the official's platform and slammed her hand on the desk.
"I, Ashwini Guruwar, challenge Disciple Rohan to a duel!"
The crowd went silent.
High above, Rohan's smirk froze.
Then he stood, slow and deliberate, eyes glinting like fire.
"So the little flower thinks she can face a storm," he said quietly.
Ashwini didn't back down. "I'm not a flower," she said. "I'm the roots that break stone."
The referee swallowed hard, glancing between them. "Challenge… accepted."
The crowd burst into cheers and whispers as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the arena.
Ansh and Vijay exchanged a look — part worry, part pride.
"Guess she's next," Ansh said softly.
Vijay nodded. "And Rohan won't go easy."
Daav fluttered nervously above their heads as the drums began to sound for the next match announcement.