Kalem remained still.
From his vantage point, he watched.
The battlefield had already split into three distinct types of fighters, each falling into predictable patterns of combat:
The Aggressors – Those who charged forward, unrelenting, smashing their way through their opponents with brute strength or overwhelming magic. (Like Nara.)The Opportunists – Those who stayed on the edges, waiting for an opening, striking at their foes when they were weakest. (Like Jhaeros.)The Defenders – Those who took a different approach, securing fortified positions, weathering attacks, and waiting for others to exhaust themselves before making their move.
Kalem, however, was none of them.
He had neither rushed into battle nor searched for a vulnerable enemy to strike. Instead, he had walked with purpose, dragging his massive crate of weapons behind him, step by step.
His patience had puzzled both spectators and competitors alike.
But now—
He knelt.
And everything changed.
Above the Battlefield
High above the chaos, in the noble viewing platform, Lyra leaned forward, gripping the marble railing, her knuckles turning white.
She had been watching Kalem from the beginning. He had barely moved. Even now, he wasn't engaging in combat but simply kneeling in the middle of the battlefield.
"Is he really going to fight, or is he planning to just sit there until the round ends?" remarked Lord Mathias Evernwood, her father, his voice carrying an amused lilt.
Lyra didn't answer.
She had learned something a long time ago. Kalem didn't move without a reason.
His inaction was an action in itself.
The murmurs of the noble spectators around her ranged from amusement to irritation. Many had dismissed him as a non-threat, some calling him cowardly, others unremarkable.
But then—
Kalem dropped the chain that had been wrapped around his wrist.
A quiet metallic rattle echoed as the links hit the uneven stone beneath him.
Then, he placed his hand on the ground.
And Lyra understood.
The Node
The battlefield was not natural.
It was an artificial construct, shifting unpredictably as the academy's mages controlled its terrain.
Except—
It wasn't unpredictable.
Kalem had been studying its movements. He had seen the terrain shift in patterns—the way the ground trembled before rising into platforms, the way cracks formed before collapsing into pitfalls.
Which meant it wasn't random.
It was designed.
And if it was designed—
It had rules.
And rules could be broken.
Kalem's fingers traced the etched magical veins running beneath the surface—an intricate network of enchantments woven into the battlefield itself.
Then, he found it.
The node.
A convergence point where multiple magical circuits met. A delicate balance of stabilization and alteration.
A finely-tuned mechanism.
So—he did what any rational person would do.
He broke it.
The Arena Trembles
At first, the shift was subtle.
A faint pulse ran through the battlefield.
Then—
The magic snapped.
A deep tremor ran through the ground, far stronger than before.
At first, some combatants assumed it was another pre-programmed shift in the battlefield—until the terrain beneath them lurched violently, throwing many off their feet.
Cracks spidered across the ground.
Some warriors barely managed to regain their footing before the battlefield collapsed.
The floating platforms lost their levitation and came crashing down, shattering upon impact, sending combatants sprawling.
Stone pillars crumbled into rubble.
The ground split apart, creating jagged fissures that swallowed entire groups of fighters, burying them beneath collapsing debris.
Where there had once been fortified positions, there was now only ruin.
The battlefield, which had moments ago been a stage for warriors, had turned into a death trap.
The first round had ended in moments.
And Kalem?
He simply stood there, watching.
Nara, in the middle of overpowering an opponent, suddenly felt the ground give way beneath her.
She launched herself sideways, barely avoiding being swallowed by the shifting earth. Landing on stable ground, she turned, her face twisted in equal parts frustration and awe.
She immediately spotted Kalem—still standing in the distance, completely untouched.
"Oh, you absolute bastard."
Her fists clenched.
"That was my fun you just ruined!"
Jhaeros, meanwhile, had reacted instinctively, leaping to higher ground just in time. He had sensed the shift in the magic before it happened and moved before the worst of the collapse began.
Even so—he hadn't expected this much destruction.
His sharp eyes flickered toward Kalem.
"You didn't just cause instability," Jhaeros murmured under his breath. "You used it."
His respect for Kalem rose a little higher.
In the Stands: Realization Sets In
Silence.
The noble spectators, the merchant lords, the archmages—all of them had been watching.
Some in shock.
Some in disbelief.
A few… in interest.
Lord Mathias Evernwood chuckled. "I see now. He wasn't just observing… he was studying."
Lyra let out a slow breath.
"That's Kalem for you."
Her father's smirk widened. "And that makes him dangerous."
She didn't disagree.
Kalem hadn't fought.
Kalem hadn't drawn a weapon.
Kalem had broken the battlefield itself.
And in doing so, he had eliminated more fighters than anyone else.
The first round was over.
And Kalem had just changed the game.