"Thank you! Thank you~!" exclaimed Horito, waving both hands overhead and smiling from ear to ear in response to the crowd's applause.
"Good work. But we don't have time for your usual antics. Hurry up and get off the stage," said the Coach, prompting Horito to wink and stick out his tongue before performing one final bow for the crowd. Then, instead of returning to his fellow First-Year Duelists, he walked to the edge of the stage, hopped off, and made a beeline for Will.
"Next up is Sylvia Proxima Pipoltr! Come up and declare who you would like to challenge...!" shouted the Coach, grimacing slightly as he felt like Horito and Will were about to cause a delay in the proceedings.
"Greetings, Gamma Star of House Oirthear," said Horito, offering a highly overexaggerated bow before raising his head and asking, "Mind if I ask why you decided not to participate? I was looking forward to our match."
"Unlucky," replied Will, matching Horito's smile with his own. He had also done his research, so he knew exactly the type of person Horito was, or, at the very least, presented himself as.
"Unlucky...?" parroted Horito, tilting his head quizzically to the side as he asked, "What do you mean?"
"Even if I had participated, I was planning to take on the bottom-ranked Duelist," explained Will, shrugging as he added, "I apologize if you spent an inordinate amount of time and effort preparing for our match."
"Ahahahaha~!"
Holding his remarkably flat stomach and laughing, Horito pretended to wipe a tear from his eye as he replied, "Wow! None of my sources even hinted at you being a comedian!"
Like a switch had been flipped within his mind, Horito abruptly adopted a serious expression and appended, "It's a good thing we didn't fight. I may have laughed myself into submission..." in a dull monotone.
"There's always next year," replied Will, maintaining a relaxed yet cheeky demeanor. It wasn't his intention, but by postponing his admission into the Duelist League, he had inadvertently ensured he and Horito wouldn't be matched together for at least a year. If he were in Horito's position, he would probably think he was avoiding him.
"Then, until next year..." muttered Horito, performing another steep bow before turning on his heel to depart with a renewed smile. A part of him was tempted to challenge Will right then and there. However, as there was a difference between being challenged and issuing one, he couldn't bring himself to take the risk. After all, if he went out of his way to issue a challenge and lost, he would still hold the Rank 1 Duelist among the First Years, but everyone would know he was just a false King. Inversely, had Will issued the challenge, he may have lost his position, but he could then rebuild it as a dark horse or an underdog striving to overcome the disciple of a living Legend.
'He's more clever than I thought...' thought Horito, pulling out a long pipe despite his diminutive age. The Smoke Elemental he was contracted with required sustenance, but instead of packing the long pipe with tobacco or typical herbs, he used a mixture of crushed Magic Crystals and catsweed, causing the pupils of his pale yellow eyes to contract like a feline as he lit the pipe and inhaled the produced fumes...
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In the midst of Will's exchange with Horito, Sylvia and her opponent, the 15th-ranked First-Year Duelist, Tristan Denebola, were transported to the restored Duelist Arena. There, Sylvia took a brief moment to inspect her surroundings while her opponent, wearing a fierce expression, expressed, "If you believe I'm weak just because of my Rank, you're in for a world of hurt..."
"Mmm...is that so?" responded Sylvia, her expression disinterested as she turned to face her opponent, a boy with medium-length brown hair, bangs that framed his face, resolute green eyes, and a budding, athletic build.
Without waiting for Tristan's answer, Sylvia brought forward her gloved hands and pressed the tips of her fingers together. The moment she did so, the surrounding temperature began to plummet and the Magic circles sewn into her gloves began to shimmer a bluish-white hue.
"Too slow...!" shouted Tristan, unholstering and firing a double-muzzled revolver with a long, bronze-tinted barrel inscribed with runic script. Most classic forms of Magic were too slow for the fast-paced action of a duel, especially in student Leagues, so 'Runecasters' had become increasingly common since their implementation.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
With a travel velocity exceeding 200 meters per second, Sylvia's senses were too slow to perceive the three-shot burst fired at her curved, slightly pointed breastplate. Unfortunately for Tristan, she didn't need to as the moment she brought her fingers together, a multi-layer, pyramid-shaped magic barrier was erected around her. More notably, rather than blocking attacks, it was designed to negate momentum.
"What the—how do you already know anti-projectile magic..!?" shouted Tristan, using a speedloader as he made a beeline for the cover of a pillar.
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"A competent Mage is one who prepares..." responded Sylvia, directing her open right palm at Tristan's retreating figure. To the latter's shock, a cold burst of wind immediately struck him from behind, nearly knocking him over as a thick, frigid mist began to gather around him.
"Damnit...!" exclaimed Tristan, opening one of the many pockets lining his uniform to pull out a thumb-sized cylinder with a plunger, pressing down on it with his thumb before tossing it up and shielding his face and eyes. The cylinder then burst, unleashing a shimmering, silver, highly reflective substance with Manaphobic properties, causing the Mana under Sylvia's control to disperse, effectively negating whatever she was attempting to do.
'He must cherish his position dearly...' Sylvia noted, her half-lidded eyes exhibiting a hint of remorse. The tiny capsule Tristan had used was filled with a rare, alchemized silver alloy that could only be refined by grinding down artifacts from the 'Era of Creation.' They were incredibly expensive, so despite pulling out an elaborate blue-and-silver rapier and charging at Tristan with an impassive countenance, Sylvia briefly considered whether she should compensate him for the expense.
As he was taking a moment to catch his breath, hiding behind one of the arena's pillars, Tristan was caught off guard as something abruptly struck him from behind. There was no pain at first, but then a paradoxically cold and hot sensation permeated his chest as he looked down to find a blade of blood-covered ice protruding from it, courtesy of Sylvia stabbing clean through the pillar and, more importantly, his heart.
"You can still grow stronger..." muttered Sylvia, punctuating her words by transfusing Tristan's body with water and ice-elemental Aura, causing him to freeze from the inside. He attempted to resist, but as Sylvia's blade had pierced his heart, it wasn't long before his body started to crack, followed by it bursting apart as he was promptly expelled from the arena.
Pulling her rapier from the pillar, Sylvia made a sharp, angular cut down and away from her body before swiftly pulling up the blade and holding it in front of her face as she closed her eyes and lowered her head, paying respects to her opponent even though he had simply been transported to the infirmary...
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"Wow...Sylvia is really strong..." Alessandra remarked, her expression and tone expressing genuine awe. She, too, believed Sylvia was a simple but exceptionally talented Mage, so it was quite a shock to see her span more than twenty meters in a fraction of a second. Not to mention her ability to stab through a meter-thick pillar of stone as if it were empty air...
"I can't help but agree..." muttered Ishyll, smiling wryly as he added, "We should consider ourselves fortunate that she isn't our opponent. At least not for the time being."
"Fortunate?" parroted Ahmad, his voice questioning as he raised his brow and looked down at Ishyll with crossed arms.
"True strength is obtained by overcoming trials and weathering ordeals!" the young, seaborn Giant said, his loud voice drawing several curious gazes.
"It's good that you think that," the coach responded, smiling as Sylvia quietly descended the stage. "Because you're up next, Ahmad, son of Thrune."
"Gladly...!" shouted Ahmad, punching his right fist into the palm of his left hand and causing those in his way to give him a wide berth as he stepped forward with proud, assured steps. His height placed him nearly eye-level with the Coach, so many onlookers felt it was a little unfair when he called out, "I challenge the holder of the fourteenth rank!"
In response to Ahmad's shout, a petite, somewhat boyish-looking girl with short, white-gold hair and silvery-grey eyes made her way up onto the stage. Her height was barely 2/3rds of Ahmad's, but she matched his cross-armed posture with a catty smile, asking, "Are you sure about this, big guy? It's not too late to change your mind."
Not one to look down on people based on appearance, Ahmad held his hands out in front of him, cupping his right fist with his left hand as he bowed his head and stated, "May the winds and seas favor us both in the battle to come."
"Hooo~?" responded the petite girl, listed on the ranking ladder as Hyste Taygeta. She expected Ahmad to grimace or look down on her for being a girl and so much smaller than him, so she was pleasantly surprised by his courtesy.
"I think you and I could be friends," hummed Hyste, emulating Ahmad's bow as a show of mutual respect. Then, as he assumed they were both ready, the Coach activated the digitalization process, transferring them to the arena.
Wasting no time, Ahmad unleashed a loud war cry as he spread his arms wide, hands clenched in fists. The muscles of his upper body immediately swelled and became more prominent, and just in time as Hyste appeared behind him with a silver-white dagger in hand, holding it in a reverse grip as she slid it across the back of his neck.
"Holy cow..." remarked Hyste, her eyes widening as she felt like she was slicing across the surface of a boulder rather than flesh. Ahmad reacted by spinning his upper body and attempting to strike her with a backhand blow, but she evaded even before he was halfway through his turn, a pale green aura swirling around her body, particularly around her hands, feet, hips, and the edge of her tanto-like blade.
"Aha! I see you are loved by the winds...!" shouted Ahmad, smiling as he leaped forward like a bear attempting to tackle its prey. Hyste felt a kind of primal fear seeing him lunge at her, but as she was widely considered to be the fastest among the current First Years, she managed to retain a smile as she evaded his lunge and replied, "That's right. I won't go into the specifics, but my family is blessed with one of the most potent wind affinities in the world, not just the Kingdom."
"Magnificent!" exclaimed Ahmad, sinking his hands into the surface of the arena as he excitedly added, "But my family had made a living conquering both the sea and wind for generations...!"
Following his words, Ahmad lifted up a large section of the arena's floor as if it were a tatami mat, flipping it toward Hyste's position.
'Such power...' Hyste noted, a bead of sweat forming on her cheek as she evaded both the upturned stone platform and Ahmad's attempt to tackle her with his shoulder. He didn't know which side she would emerge from, but by picking one at random and barreling toward it, he nearly caught her mid-evasion.
Taking advantage of Ahmad's own momentum, Hyste unleashed a gust of wind-elemental energy from her left palm, forcing him to continue forward further than he intended. Ahmad had a massive advantage in terms of the amount of power he could output, but she was at least three, maybe even four times faster.
"Let's try this...!" exclaimed Hyste, beaming as she made a finger gun with her left hand and gathered a swirl of vibrant green energy at its tip, firing it at Ahmad the moment he tried turning to face her. Chantless Magic was supposed to be less than a quarter the power of properly incanted spells, but when Hyste unleashed her First Circle Wind Bullet, the recoil sent her gliding back several meters and caused Ahmad to reel as it struck him in his side, knocking him over and causing a shallow, cross-shaped gash to appear on his ribs...
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