When Liam had unleashed his lightning spell against George, he had accomplished sothing far more impressive than most realized in the mont. The clash had been so intense, so filled with spectacle, that many in the audience overlooked it entirely.
The very first spell Liam had cast had been a lightning strike through his wand. Yet with flawless precision, he had seized control of the energy mid-flight, coiling the lightning around his hand before redirecting it harmlessly into the ground.
To the untrained eye, it might have looked like a simple parry. But for anyone who truly understood magic, the feat was staggering. In order to redirect an opponent’s spell, one needed to possess mana greater than or at least equal to the caster’s, and on top of that, an even higher level of control. To wrest control of lightning in midair was no easy task, it was like catching a live serpent of energy and bending it to your will.
Raze had done the sa thing. But he hadn’t redirected just one bolt. He had nullified several at once, and not from George, but from Kayzel himself, whose magic was leagues above George’s in both raw strength and refinent.
Most of the crowd missed the implications, too dazzled by the exchange to notice. But in the upper decks, where the principals and teachers watched with sharpened eyes, there were murmurs. They understood. In that single opening sequence, Raze had revealed sothing undeniable: he was operating on an entirely different level. He might very well stand far beyond Kayzel.
Kayzel, however, was not ready to accept that. His pride burned too hot.
"You think you can pull off one flashy trick and call this match finished?!" he roared, thrusting both hands outward.
Twin lightning bolts surged into existence, splitting wide across the arena in arcing angles, their crackling paths racing straight toward Raze. At the sa ti, Kayzel pulled his arms inward, gathering mana. A massive fireball ford between his palms, glowing with searing intensity. He spun his wrists, funneling wind into it, until the sphere howled with compressed force.
With a final push, Kayzel hurled it forward. The fireball streaked through the air like a teor, and now three devastating attacks, lightning from both sides, and the roaring fireball in the center, converged on Raze all at once. The casting was unique, weaving different affinities into a deadly simultaneous strike.
The audience leaned forward, breathless.
Raze only raised his hands. In one, wind surged. In the other, fire ignited. He pressed them together, and the two elents spiraled upward into a massive flaming tornado. It expanded outward in all directions, the air whirling violently. The tornado absorbed the lightning bolts and the fireball as though they were nothing more than fuel, folding them into its rotation until the entire arena blazed with a storm of fire, lightning, and wind.
The crowd gasped. It was a breathtaking sight, a swirling inferno of fused elents, so violent that it threatened to consu the battlefield itself.
And then, in the blink of an eye, it all collapsed. The spell dispersed into thin air, vanishing like mist under the sun. Nothing remained. No fla, no sparks, not even scorch marks on the ground.
Raze stood at the center of it all, his cloak still and his expression unchanged. His body was untouched, not a single mark upon him.
"What are you doing?!" Kayzel’s voice cracked with fury. His face twisted with anger, veins straining on his neck. "Are you not taking this seriously?! You haven’t even moved from your spot! All you’ve done this entire ti is block my attacks!"
The words echoed through the arena, but to Raze, they were aningless.
Raze didn’t say another word beyond what he had already spoken. His silence wasn’t hesitation, it was deliberate. He stood in place, calm and steady, almost as if he were waiting for Kayzel to try more, to show more. And Kayzel, brimming with pride and frustration, gave him exactly that.
He began to craft one of the fiercest spells in his arsenal. Flas surged out of his hands, twisting and rising into the shape of a great bird. The fire expanded, growing hotter, brighter, until it ford the towering image of a phoenix. Its wings stretched wide, embers scattering like feathers, its screech echoing through the arena as though alive.
The crowd gasped at the spectacle. It was magic fueled not only by power but by artistry. And Raze allowed it to co forth unhindered.
At last, he lifted his own hand, channeling his mana. Frost blood around his palm, spreading upward in a crystalline glow. In answer to the flaming phoenix, he conjured his own creation, an enormous bird of ice. Its feathers shimred like sculpted glass, its eyes cold, its wings expanding outward with biting winds.
The two colossal constructs clashed in the sky above. Fire t ice, heat battling cold, a storm of steam exploding into the air. The phoenix’s flas devoured the ice bird’s body, but at the sa ti, the ice consud nearly the entirety of the phoenix’s fire, smothering it. The collision left the arena blanketed in a thick mist, the battlefield vanishing into a haze.
When the steam cleared, the truth was plain. Just like before, Raze had stopped every one of his opponent’s attacks.
"Do you know what I’m trying to show you?" Raze finally spoke, his voice sharp as steel. "That you are no different from my opponent before. I will treat you the sa way I treated them, because you are no different."
The words struck Kayzel harder than any spell. His jaw tightened, veins tensing at his temple. No different?
His entire life, people had told him the opposite. They had told him he was special, that he carried the blood of Idore and therefore was destined to be powerful. When he succeeded, they dismissed his effort, saying it was only because of his bloodline. When he failed, they called him lazy, unworthy, spoiled by his birthright.
His existence had been a cage, every achievent weighed against his lineage, every weakness magnified by it. Kayzel had lived in a life where he could never truly win, not unless he clawed his way to the very top. Only then would his power be his own. Only then would the world stop seeing Idore’s blood before it saw Kayzel himself.
And now Raze dared to say he was "no different."
If I am no different, then why did I live this cursed life? Why did I bleed and fight alone, with no family to lean on, no one to guide through the storms I endured?
The rage swelled in him, spilling into his magic.
Kayzel began to sprint across the arena, his hands flashing as he wove spell after spell into existence. The crowd gasped as glowing magical formations appeared in the air around him, each one pulsing with a different elental power. One by one, they lingered, circling like predatory stars.
By the ti he stopped, five incarnations hovered around him, each throbbing with deadly energy, fire, lightning, earth, wind, and water.
Kayzel pointed forward, every muscle in his body shaking with fury.
"Let’s see you stop this with your magic!"
All five spells activated at once, unleashing their wrath. From each formation, massive balls of elental energy hurtled forward, converging together into a storm of destruction aid squarely at Raze.
****
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