The cold air of the early morning bit at Kalem's skin as he walked through the academy grounds toward the arena. He could hear the faint hum of magic resonating in the air as the final preparations for the semifinal matches took place. The colosseum was buzzing with activity—staff setting up barriers, warriors checking their gear, and mages weaving wards into the very stone of the arena. This was it. The final rounds of the tournament.
Kalem looked down at the crate of weapons he had brought with him. He had already made some mental notes about his potential matchups, but now it was time to prepare for the real challenge. He had no idea how things would unfold in the coming hours, but he knew he couldn't afford to take anything for granted. Not with Jhaeros standing on the other side.
The rest of the semifinalists were already preparing, each in their own way. Kalem took a deep breath and set his crate down, reaching for his weapons. The competition was about to get a lot more dangerous.
Garrik "The Iron Wall"
Garrik was in his corner of the colosseum, adjusting the straps of his heavy armor. His expression was stoic, eyes focused, but there was a faint hint of anger burning beneath the surface. It had been a long road for him to get to this point, and the bitterness of Kalem's interference earlier in the tournament still lingered.
He had come to prove that he was more than just a shield. Garrik's strength was legendary, but that was only half the battle. In this tournament, he'd been forced to rely on more than just his armor and brawn. Now, as the semifinal drew near, he was ready to show his true capabilities.
His gauntleted hand tightened around the grip of his sword, his thoughts drifting to his upcoming match against Seraphine du Rozaire. A strategic and tactical fighter, Seraphine would be a difficult opponent. But Garrik was confident that his defense would be unbreakable.
"I won't fail this time," he muttered to himself, his voice low and gravelly.
Seraphine du Rozaire "The Phantom Duelist"
Seraphine stood in a secluded corner of the academy, her eyes closed as she focused on her breathing. Unlike Garrik, she didn't need heavy armor or brute strength to win. Her power lay in her ability to control the battlefield—her illusions and tactics were her greatest strengths.
Her slender fingers danced through the air as she began to weave subtle magical threads, creating layers of illusion around her form. It was a technique she had perfected over the years. These illusions were not just visual deceptions; they could manipulate the senses and disrupt the enemy's focus, making it difficult for them to discern what was real and what was not.
As she practiced her illusions, her thoughts shifted to Garrik, her upcoming opponent. A man of brute force and unshakable defense, he would not fall easily. But Seraphine knew that speed and deception were her greatest assets. If she could make him doubt what he saw, she could find an opening.
"I'll make him see what I want him to," she whispered, her lips curling into a smile.
Isolde "The Frost Reaper"
Isolde stood near a large pillar, her breath clouding the air in front of her as she focused on gathering her energy. The cold radiating off her body could freeze the ground beneath her feet, and the temperature in her vicinity had dropped drastically. But Isolde wasn't thinking about the cold at the moment; she was thinking about her upcoming opponent: Nara.
The fire mage had proven herself capable in the previous rounds, but Isolde wasn't worried. Her cold magic had the ability to freeze her enemies in their tracks, and she had a particular affinity for manipulating the ice to her will. It would only be a matter of time before Nara's fiery attacks were doused by her own freezing storm.
Isolde's hands moved in a series of intricate gestures as she summoned an orb of swirling ice into the air. The frost crackled with energy as she prepared herself for the match ahead. She couldn't afford to lose this opportunity—too much was at stake.
As she let the ice orb dissipate, she glanced over at Nara, who was busy preparing her own spells. There was no doubt that Nara was powerful, but Isolde was confident that she could freeze her opponent before things got out of hand.
Nara
Nara, as usual, wasn't one to shy away from a challenge. She had spent the past two days refining her flame magic, strengthening the heat she could generate and perfecting her control over her flames. The time for casual sparring was over. This was the real deal, and she was determined to win.
The air around her shimmered with the heat radiating from her hands as she practiced casting fireballs, letting the flames ignite and dissipate at her command. She knew Isolde would try to freeze her at the first opportunity, but Nara wasn't worried. The key to beating an opponent who controlled ice was to overwhelm them with fire—rapid, unpredictable bursts of heat that couldn't be controlled by mere cold.
She smirked as she conjured another flameball. She could already feel the fire magic thrumming in her veins, her connection to the element stronger than ever. It was going to be a show.
"Let's see if you can handle the heat," Nara said under her breath, sending the flameball soaring into the air with a flick of her wrist.
Jhaeros
Jhaeros stood in a quiet corner of the colosseum, his golden eyes focused, his senses alert. Velka lay at his feet, her large form curled in a ball as she rested. Jhaeros wasn't taking this match lightly. Kalem had proven himself to be an unpredictable fighter in the previous rounds, and Jhaeros wasn't about to underestimate him.
He had spent the last few hours practicing his agility and precision, enhancing his reflexes in preparation for the duel. Jhaeros knew Kalem had a variety of weapons at his disposal, but that didn't worry him. His own agility and the speed of his wolf companion would give him the upper hand.
As he adjusted the straps on his armor and checked his twin daggers, he took a moment to focus on the task ahead. He didn't want to think about anything else—just the fight.
Velka stirred, sensing her master's focus. Jhaeros looked down at her, his lips curling into a small smile.
"We'll win this," he whispered, the wolf's ears perking at his words.
Kalem
Kalem sat down on a bench, his crate of weapons beside him. He had carefully laid out his assortment of daggers, swords, and enchanted tools, knowing that he would need all of them to face Jhaeros. He had no idea how the fight would unfold, but he was determined to give it his all.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the strength and dexterity in his hands. His armor was fitted snugly, his focus core pulsing beneath the metal, ready to channel energy when needed. As he picked up one of his swords, he tested the sharpness of the blade, making sure it was up to the task.
Kalem couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as the final preparations came to a close. The upcoming match against Jhaeros would be unlike anything he'd faced before. There was no time to waste on second-guessing.
"This is it," Kalem said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's see who's truly the best."