Before the yellow-armored warrior could even charge with his sword drawn, the mage quickly retreated, instantly widening the distance between them to twenty or thirty meters and preparing his attack. Seeing this, the warrior sprinted forward with all his strength, unwilling to lose his advantage. His heavy armor clattered ominously across the sand.
The mage pointed his magic staff forward and activated the magical energy flowing through him like a river. Instantly, the blue crystal at the tip of the staff flared into a blazing crimson color, and a massive fireball radiating intense heat materialized before him. With a swing of his staff, the fireball tore through the air and shot toward the warrior at lightning speed.
However, the warrior was not inexperienced. Without slowing down, he raised his heavy steel sword and, timing it perfectly, struck the incoming fireball with a powerful slash. The spell split into two and was deflected aside, scattering fiery fragments through the air.
Seeing his opponent rapidly closing the distance, the mage retreated once again. This time, he abandoned ordinary fire magic and decided to use a more serious skill. Raising his staff toward the sky, he began chanting in a loud voice.
In the next moment, the clear sky above the coliseum darkened directly over the warrior's head. Savage black clouds gathered out of nowhere. The air filled with static electricity and the scent of death.
With a deafening rumble, chains of blue lightning erupted from the clouds and began relentlessly striking the warrior below.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Blue light shone from the mage's eyes as he focused entirely on controlling the storm and maintaining the spell. Each bolt slammed into the warrior's gleaming yellow armor, forcing him to one knee under the relentless assault.
As the battle intensified, the spectators—including Raymond—watched attentively.
Everyone knew that casting magic in this world required a special energy called Astral. Astral was a supernatural power directly connected to a person's consciousness. According to the System's laws, every living being possessed Astral energy, but the amount varied from individual to individual. During the Selection Phase, those blessed with high Astral reserves typically chose the path of the Mage, while those with lower Astral capacity relied on physical strength and became Warriors.
However, victory was not determined solely by the amount of Astral one possessed. What mattered most was how efficiently, intelligently, and skillfully that energy was used on the battlefield.
At this moment, the duel unfolding before them was a perfect demonstration of that principle.
The relentless lightning strikes began leaving black scorch marks across the warrior's yellow steel armor. The smell of burnt metal and smoke filled the arena. If the assault continued much longer, the armor would inevitably fail and shatter apart.
Realizing the situation was becoming increasingly dangerous and that he could not endure much longer, the warrior quickly changed his strategy.
He gambled everything on a single move.
He reduced his defensive focus to the bare minimum and poured all his concentration into maximizing his offensive power.
With a fierce roar, brilliant yellow light erupted from his entire body.
This was one of his physical skills.
His movement speed and attack power instantly doubled.
He dashed across the sand like a flying shadow.
Before the mage could redirect the lightning storm onto him again, the warrior crossed the remaining distance with terrifying speed and arrived right in front of his opponent.
With all his strength, he swung his massive steel sword downward toward the mage's head.
The blade tore through the air.
But the mage also sensed death approaching.
In that final moment, he gathered every shred of concentration and remaining Astral energy into a single point.
At the last possible second, he brought his staff across his body and managed to activate a glowing blue magical barrier.
Crash!
The giant sword slammed into the shield.
Although the attack was blocked, the force behind it was so overwhelming that the mage was pushed several meters backward across the sand, leaving deep grooves behind him.
He had reacted in time, but he was now in an extremely dangerous situation.
The distance between them had become dangerously short—a death sentence for a mage.
He no longer had enough time to retreat or cast another powerful offensive spell.
Worse yet, he could not maintain his barrier and launch a counterattack simultaneously.
To make matters worse, the devastating lightning storm and the barrier itself had nearly drained his Astral reserves.
His energy was approaching a critical level.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
The mage desperately maintained the glowing blue barrier with every ounce of his strength.
Across from him, the warrior sensed absolute superiority and unleashed a relentless barrage of brutal attacks.
Every strike shook the sandy ground.
Cracks began spreading across the surface of the barrier.
The magical shield flickered like fractured glass on the verge of collapse.
Then came the final blow.
The warrior gathered all his remaining strength into his sword and delivered a finishing strike of incredible power.
The barrier shattered instantly into countless blue fragments before dissolving into the air.
The mage was left completely exposed.
He was utterly exhausted.
At this point, even a single ordinary strike would be enough to end his life.
Only a little over a meter separated them now.
The warrior raised his bloodstained sword high above his head.
A savage and arrogant grin spread across his face.
"It's over. I've won," he thought proudly.
"Now die."
With all his might, he brought the sword down, intending to sever the mage's head from his body.
The steel blade whistled through the air.
The mage's eyes widened as he watched death rushing toward him.
"Is this the end? Am I really going to die here?"
His spirit nearly broke as darkness crept into his vision.
But then, like a final flash of lightning in his mind, a thought struck him.
"No... No! I can't die here over a single piece of loot!"
The terror of death awakened the last hidden strength within him—his survival instinct.
He used everything he had left.
Still kneeling, he drove his staff violently into the sand beneath him.
At that exact moment—mere centimeters before the sword could reach his head—the unexpected happened.
The warrior's deadly strike froze in midair.
The massive sword slipped from his suddenly limp hands and crashed onto the sand, its momentum only managing to lightly slash the mage's left shoulder.
The warrior himself collapsed backward like a lifeless puppet.
But by the time he hit the ground, he was already dead.
The figure that fell was merely a headless body drenched in blood.
His helmeted head had already been launched into the air, tumbling several meters away before rolling to a stop.
The arena floor was stained crimson.
Nobody understood what had happened.
Only the most observant spectators—and Raymond among them—had seen the truth.
At the very last moment, standing on the brink of death, the mage had transformed the sand beneath him into a hard, razor-sharp steel blade. Using the final remnants of his Astral energy, he secretly drove the weapon upward from beneath the ground and severed the warrior's neck in a single strike.
A dreadful silence descended upon the arena.
The spectators had just witnessed how terrifying a mage could be, even in close combat.
Watching the scene unfold, Raymond whispered in astonishment:
"So magic can be used not only for ranged attacks, but also to alter elements in the environment... even something like sand."
"That was a terrifying lesson."