The first round had ended, but its shockwaves still rippled through the academy.
As the competitors prepared for the next stage, rumors spread like wildfire. Some whispered in admiration, others in bitterness, but one thing was certain—names had been carved into the minds of everyone watching.
And now, the real battle had begun.
The competitors gathered in the colosseum's outer halls, where the next round's pairings would be announced.
The tension was palpable.
Kalem walked through the crowd, catching snippets of conversation as he passed.
"Did you hear about Velra? They're saying she took down five people with a single lightning strike!""Garrik's mad as hell. Some say he's going to train nonstop ever since Kalem pulled that trick with the terrain.""Nara's nickname is spreading fast—'The Wildfire.' Pretty fitting, considering she punched her way through the first round.""Jhaeros barely fought, but he still made it through. It's like he knows exactly where to be at all times..."
Kalem smirked at that last one. Jhaeros did know exactly where to be at all times.
He finally stopped near the edge of the hall, leaning against a stone pillar. He wasn't worried about the rumors—he was more interested in the people behind them.
And from what he could see, there were a handful of fighters who would be serious obstacles in the next round.
Garrik, The Iron Wall – Still seething from Kalem's disruption, he was already plotting how to crush him in a direct fight. His endurance and raw power were unmatched.
Velra, The Arcane Storm – A noble-backed mage with flawless control over lightning. She didn't waste energy; every spell she cast was calculated, precise, lethal.
Dren, The Beastmaster – He didn't fight alone. His twin shadowpanthers had already overwhelmed multiple competitors, and word had it that he still had other summons he hadn't even used yet.
Isolde, The Frost Reaper – A second-year student whose cold magic was said to freeze opponents solid in a single touch. She had eliminated her entire section of the battlefield with a sweeping blizzard.
Then, of course, there was Nara, Jhaeros… and himself.
The stage was set. The strong had survived the first round.
But only the strongest would advance further.
Kalem had barely settled before Garrik and his entourage approached.
The armored fighter's glare could have burned through steel.
"You," Garrik growled.
Kalem exhaled, already bored. "Me."
Garrik took a step closer, looming. "You don't belong here."
Kalem raised a brow. "Says who?"
"Says anyone who actually knows how to fight," Garrik spat. "You stole that round. You rigged the battlefield."
Kalem smirked. "It's called strategy. Maybe look into it sometime?"
Garrik's fists clenched. Around him, his fellow warriors muttered in agreement, backing him up.
But before anything could escalate, another voice cut in.
"I wouldn't underestimate him."
Velra stood nearby, arms crossed, watching with quiet amusement.
Garrik scowled at her. "You defending him?"
Velra shrugged. "I'm just saying—he played the game better than you. If you're mad about it, then fight him properly in the next round."
Garrik muttered something under his breath but didn't push further. Instead, he turned back to Kalem.
"I'll see you in the arena."
Kalem gave him a lazy wave. "Looking forward to it."
As Garrik and his group left, Velra chuckled. "You really know how to make enemies."
Kalem smirked. "Enemies make themselves. I just give them a reason."
While the competitors clashed with words and tempers below, the real players—the nobles, merchants, and high-ranking academy officials—watched from above.
In the VIP seating, Lord Mathias Evernwood sat among other noble lords and ladies, his expression unreadable as he observed the magical projections replaying key moments from the first round.
Beside him, Lyra sat stiffly, arms crossed, her annoyance barely hidden.
She could hear the murmurs of the nobles, dissecting Kalem's tactics.
"He's unpredictable. That makes him dangerous."
"His ability to read the battlefield is… unusual for someone with no formal noble training."
"If nurtured properly, he could be an excellent asset."
"Or a problem."
Lyra clenched her jaw.
They weren't admiring Kalem. They were measuring him.
Her father finally spoke. "Your friend has upset the balance."
Lyra didn't answer.
"He isn't like the others. He doesn't belong to a noble house. He has no loyalty to a kingdom."
She knew where this was going.
"And yet, here he is. On the same stage as those who have been trained for this their entire lives."
Lyra turned to face him. "Is that a problem?"
Mathias studied her for a long moment. Then, he smiled.
"No," he said. "It's interesting."
That was even worse.
Elsewhere, in the academy's inner chambers, the senior instructors held their own discussions.
The enchanted projection displayed Kalem's actions in the first round, pausing at key moments.
"He disrupted an arena-class enchantment mid-battle," one instructor murmured.
"That level of interference requires an advanced knowledge of magical infrastructure. Most second-years wouldn't even know where to begin."
Master Valdris, the academy head, observed in silence before finally speaking.
"We will watch him," he said. "Closely."
A pause.
"There are those who disrupt the natural order of things," Valdris continued, his tone measured. "Some become pioneers. Others become threats."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Which one, they wondered, would Kalem become?
Kalem's Perspective: The Weight of Expectations
Back in his dorm, Kalem sat on the floor, leaning against the bed as Nara paced, her excitement still high.
"You should've seen their faces! The nobles are losing their minds over you."
Jhaeros smirked. "And the competitors? They're furious."
Lyra, arms crossed, stared at Kalem. "You don't realize what you've done."
Kalem raised a brow. "I won."
Lyra sighed, rubbing her temples. "You did more than that. You made yourself a target."
Kalem shrugged. "That's fine."
Lyra exhaled. "No, it's not. There are people watching you now—powerful people. Some will want to recruit you. Others will want to remove you. Either way, you've changed the game."
Kalem stretched lazily. "Then I'll just have to keep changing it."
Nara grinned. "That's the spirit."
Jhaeros sighed. "We should all get some rest. The next round is going to be... intense."
Lyra stared at Kalem for a long moment before finally looking away.
He had already chosen his path.
Now, all they could do was see where it led.