The entire colosseum erupted into a deafening, unified roar.
The thunderous cheers of the spectators bounced off the massive stone walls of the gigantic arena, sending deep vibrations that could be felt through the very floorboards. Academy banners of various factions fluttered wildly in the wind, while faint, shimmering particles of residual mana still drifted through the air—a glittering testament to the fierce magical battles that had just taken place.
Hart stood tall at the commentator's booth, his hand firmly pressing against the amplification magic crystal.
"MAGNIFICENT! The sheer display of power we have just witnessed completely shatters the baseline expectation for a mere first-year tournament!"
Beside him, Barnet nodded in profound agreement. "You said it, Hart. With these exhilarating results, we can confidently declare that the absolute strongest contenders have officially secured their rightful places in the highly anticipated semifinals."
Hart raised a rolled parchment containing the tournament bracket. "And now, without further ado, here is the official lineup for the semifinal matches!"
The colosseum fell into a sudden, breathless silence.
"Match Number One: Team Kyra Zevienthe versus Team Lawey Gon!"
An instantaneous explosion of burning cheers shook the stadium.
"Match Number Two: Team Thoe Alastrina versus Team Alisa Barley!"
This time, the audience's reaction was sharply polarized. While a portion of the crowd roared with excitement, a larger collective began to whisper frantically among themselves. They quickly realized that the two prime candidates for the championship were being deliberately funneled into a collision course right before the grand finals.
"The tournament will resume shortly following a twenty-minute intermission," Barnet announced seamlessly. "While we wait for our contenders to rest, let us turn our attention to the arena for a special exhibition magic showcase performed by our elite third-year students!"
A massive wave of applause flooded the arena as the crowd settled in for the show.
The Spectator and Waiting Area
Back in the designated resting area, Alisa let out a long, heavy exhale as she leaned her back against the cool stone wall.
"Their teamwork is terrifyingly seamless," Alisa muttered, her voice tight with focus. "Every single movement they make is practically flawless."
"Yeah," Reika responded concisely. His sharp eyes remained fixed on the arena below, analyzing every detail.
"And Kyra's leadership..." Alisa paused for a brief moment, searching for the right words. "It's not just about raw power. She possesses an impeccable sense of timing. She knows exactly when to initiate a full-scale assault and when to fortify her defenses."
Reika offered a slow, deliberate nod. "You're right. That adaptability is exactly what makes her dangerous."
"No wonder people revere her as a true princess," Alisa added with a faint sigh.
Zian, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the entire conversation, finally spoke up. His voice was dropped to a low, heavy undertone. "The real issue... is our upcoming opponents."
Alisa shifted her gaze to him. "What about them?"
"Thoe Alastrina," Zian said, his fists tightening. "And Dean. They have two princes representing the legendary houses of Blizar and Stonos on that team."
A fierce, sharp smirk broke across Alisa's face, though her eyes remained deadly serious. "Relax. I haven't even unleashed the Phoenix Stance yet."
Before Zian could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"Yo."
The greeting was spoken with a casual, lazy tone, yet it was dripping with an undeniable layer of condescension.
Thoe Alastrina stood before them, flaunting a thin, arrogant smirk. Flanking him from behind were his primary teammates, Dean and Ika.
"How are we holding up, Barley? It seems your little stroke of luck finally runs out right here," Thoe sneered.
Alisa instantly straightened her posture, squaring her shoulders as she faced him down. "Are you really that confident?"
Thoe let out a sharp, mocking chuckle. "I see absolutely no reason to harbor any doubt."
"The arena has yet to speak," Alisa fired back coldly.
Dean took half a step forward, his expression filled with dismissive amusement. "Let's be completely honest here. This upcoming match is nothing more than a meaningless formality." He adjusted his collar arrogantly. "The finals have already been pre-determined. It will be us against Kyra Zevienthe."
Reika finally shifted his gaze, his flat, expressionless eyes locking directly onto Dean. "We haven't lost yet."
Thoe spared a brief, dismissive glance at Reika before letting out another quiet laugh. "What an amusing display of bravado." He turned on his heel, gesturing to his group. "Best of luck to you, Team Commoner."
"Let's go, Dean. Ika. There's no point in wasting our breath here."
"Right behind you, Alastrina," Ika replied in her usual soft, gentle tone.
The three elites strode away, leaving a heavily suffocating tension hanging thick in the corridor.
After Their Departure
Alisa slammed her fist against her palm, her face flushing with irritation. "Snares of arrogant nobles..."
Zian lowered his head deeply, his eyes staring intently at the floorboards. "I'm sorry... It's probably because of me that we keep getting called that."
Reika's head snapped toward him instantly. "Why would you say that?"
"I'm just an ordinary commoner," Zian muttered, his voice laced with bitter self-doubt. "I don't possess a powerful bloodline, and I don't carry a renowned family name."
Reika stepped half a foot closer, closing the distance between them. "I am a commoner too."
Zian froze, the words halting in his throat.
"What's the difference between us?" Reika continued flatly, his voice echoing with absolute grounded certainty.
Zian slowly lifted his gaze, meeting Reika's steady eyes.
"We fight together as a team," Reika said softly, yet every word carried the weight of an unshakeable anchor. "And that is more than enough."
Alisa nodded firmly, a proud smile returning to her face. "Exactly. All that matters is what we prove out there on the sand."
Zian felt a sudden surge of warmth wash away his anxiety. He tightly clamped his fists together, his resolve igniting anew. "I won't let either of you down!"
The Arena: Post-Intermission
The grand magical showcase of the third-year students concluded with a final, spectacular burst of brilliant light cascading over the stadium.
"Welcome back to the adrenaline-fueled Semifinals of the First-Year Duel Tournament!" Hart's voice boomed through the speakers, instantly reigniting the crowd. "Match Number One: Team Kyra Zevienthe versus Team Lawey Gon!"
Down on the battlefield, Lawey Gon stared across the center line at his opponent, a bitter, wry smile plastered on his face. "To think we'd cross paths with the projected champion this early in the brackets."
Kyra stared back at him, her striking features entirely devoid of any shifting emotion. "Are you conceding defeat before the blades have even clashed?"
"It's not conceding," Lawey countered smoothly. "It's simply being realistic."
"If that is the case," Kyra replied, her voice dropping to a freezing, absolute sub-zero chill, "then fight as though this is the very last opportunity you will ever be granted."
The ensuing battle was executed with terrifying velocity.
Kyra's formation was flawlessly meticulous; every single strategic movement her team made systematically locked down and smothered their opponents' counter-plays before they could even materialize.
"MATCH OVER!" the referee's voice thundered across the sands. "THE WINNER—TEAM KYRA ZEVIENTHE!"
The colosseum violently shook to its foundations under a massive storm of applause.
"ABSOLUTELY PHENOMENAL!" Hart roared into his crystal. "This match has reached its swift conclusion in record time!"
Barnet nodded in absolute awe. "Princess Kyra's tactical command dictates every single facet of the battlefield. Absolute dominance."
The VIP Grandstand
"Are you not going to head down to greet Kyra?" King Fedrel asked, glancing over at his companion.
"Maybe later," Princess Clara responded softly, her gaze completely fixed on the staging area below. "For now, I wish to witness the upcoming match."
Lord Bron let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha! You must be quite eager to see Dean showcase his skills."
"No," Clara shot back instantly, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. "It is strictly... the battle itself that interests me."
Bron's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "A pity, really. Dean is already officially betrothed."
Clara offered a thin, mysterious smile, her eyes glowing with a hidden spark. "Good for him, then."
Down in the center of the colosseum, the massive crystal scoreboard flared to life once more, illuminating the arena with giant, glowing letters:
SEMIFINAL NUMBER TWO
TEAM THOE ALASTRINA vs. TEAM ALISA BARLEY
The thunderous roar of the crowd reached a fever pitch, completely filling the sky.
Reika took a slow, deep, measured breath.
He focused his mind, feeling the immense, frozen depths of his mana reserves beginning to churn beneath his skin. He was entirely ready to unleash his magic.