After Balko's impressive fight, the tension on the training grounds remained thick. Jurge stood tall and unyielding, like an immovable mountain, as six more cadets faced him one by one. Each of the six fought valiantly, pouring their heart and soul into their efforts. Yet, despite their best attempts, only barely managed to satisfy Jurge's high standards. The murmurs among the cadets reflected their uncertainty—had they done enough to secure a place among the top ten? A chance to enter one of the prestigious academies now seemed more fragile than ever.

Tora, watching the cadets' faces, knew that exhaustion was setting in. "We'll take a break," he announced, his voice firm but understanding. "Some of you are hurt, and you won't be any good to me unless you're properly treated."

Several cadets, breathing heavily, collapsed onto the ground, grateful for the reprieve. Healers rushed forward, bandaging cuts and mending bruises, while others simply rested, wiping sweat from their brows. The atmosphere was tense, despite the pause. Each fighter knew that soon, their turn would come, and the pressure was palpable.

After ensuring the injured were taken care of, Tora rose to his full height and addressed the group. "We're ready to continue. The next cadet..." he paused, letting the moment stretch, "…Jenia!"

Jenia, calm and composed, stood up, her brown hair catching the sunlight as she approached the center of the grounds. Her opponent, Marcus, was already waiting. He stood confidently, his tall frame silhouetted against the late afternoon sun. Jenia took a deep breath, centering herself. Unlike the previous fights, she knew she had a unique advantage—her mastery of magic.

As the signal to begin was given, Jenia wasted no time. With a graceful motion of her hand, she conjured a series of fireballs, bright and blazing, sending them hurtling toward Marcus.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The fireballs cut through the air with a fierce crackling sound, trailing embers in their wake. But Marcus was ready. His speed was remarkable, and he dashed to the side, dodging each fireball with ease, his movements a blur to the watching cadets. Jenia's eyes narrowed in concentration. She had expected Marcus to be fast, but not this fast.

Marcus didn't give her a moment to recover. In a flash, he charged forward, his sword raised, intending to close the distance between them.

But Jenia was already adapting. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she decided to up the ante. She summoned her Aura to the surface, moving to the second level in an instant. Her hands glowed with a fiery intensity, and the ground beneath her feet began to heat up.

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Suddenly, twin streams of fire erupted from her palms, roaring to life as they surged toward Marcus.

Fwoooom!

The flames crackled and hissed, their heat distorting the air. They shot forward like twin serpents, their fiery tails licking the ground as they advanced. The young cadets watching gasped in awe, the sheer power on display far beyond what they had seen in the previous battles.

- Unbelievable, she has become much stronger than the last time we had clashed in training, Riku thought.

Jenia's control over her magic was impressive—she wasn't just casting random spells; she was directing them with precision, aiming to overwhelm Marcus with the sheer ferocity of her fire.

But Marcus wasn't easily intimidated. He planted his feet firmly into the ground, his stance unshakable. His Aura flared to life, a shimmering, almost invisible force surrounding his body, and with a roar, he brought his sword down in a sweeping arc.

SLASH!

His blade cut cleanly through the fire streams, splitting them in two. The flames dispersed with a loud crackle, evaporating into the air as Marcus stood unharmed, the ground scorched but intact and all the cadets were schocked. Marcus stared down Jenia, his eyes gleaming with respect and focus.

Jenia, breathing hard, pushed forward, sending another barrage of fire towards Marcus. But each time, Marcus was ready—his sword cutting through her attacks with a precision that was almost effortless. The clang of his sword slicing through magic reverberated around the training grounds, echoing in the ears of the onlookers.

She was nearing her limit, her body drenched in sweat. Her Aura was flickering now, the flames she summoned growing weaker with each attempt. Marcus, sensing this, continued to advance. His movements were controlled, each step deliberate as he closed in on her, slicing through the last remnants of her magic.

Finally, with one last powerful swing of his sword, Marcus dispersed the last of Jenia's fire. Jenia, panting, fell to one knee, her energy completely drained. She had given everything, but it wasn't enough.

Marcus stood over her, his sword lowered but his expression filled with admiration. "You fought well, Jenia," he said, his voice calm. "If you continue down this path, you'll become a warrior far stronger than you imagine."

Jenia, though exhausted, managed a small smile. It was rare for Marcus to compliment anyone, and his words meant more than victory at that moment. She nodded, accepting his praise, and slowly rose to her feet with Marcus's help.

The crowd watched in respectful silence, impressed by both fighters. But there was little time to dwell on the moment. Marcus still had more opponents to face.

In the next few matches, Marcus showed no mercy. He faced three more cadets in quick succession, each falling to his blade in just a few moves. His strength and skill were undeniable, and with each victory, the anticipation for the final battles grew.

At last, the moment came. Tora, his deep voice carrying over the grounds, called the final name of the day.

"Isaki Ryo."

Isaki, standing tall and ready, stepped forward with a confident grin. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword as he moved to face his next opponent: Jurge.

The sun was setting now, casting long shadows across the training field. The air was thick with anticipation as the two warriors faced each other, both ready to give everything they had.

The final battle of the day was about to begin.