Michael was walking home after losing in the first round of the second stage.
"Damn! I'm so weak!" Michael said to himself. "Why haven't I learned how to use magic yet?"
When he got home that evening, Michael lay down on his bed, once again questioning why he still hadn't mastered magic.
"'Why?' you ask, huh?" said a voice.
When Michael opened his eyes, his bed and house were gone. There was only a fully dark corridor with a light visible far ahead. Walking through it, he reached the source of the light. Turning right toward the brightness, he saw—about ten meters away—a muscular man with short red hair, wearing unusual clothes for this village, floating above the ground.
"Who are you?" Michael asked.
"My name is Fire! I am the god of fire," the man said calmly.
"The god of fire?" Michael repeated.
"Yes, that's right," Fire answered. "Listen!"
"Listen to what?" asked Michael.
"You wanna know why you still haven't learned to use magic after more than a month, right?" Fire asked.
"Yes, I do!" Michael said firmly.
"It's because you approached it the wrong way. That's the first thing," said Fire.
"The wrong way? What do you mean?" Michael asked.
"The first thing you must do is train to sense the magic around you. Everything else comes after that!" Fire explained.
"Sense the magic around me?" Michael repeated.
"Yes!" Fire confirmed.
"And the second thing?" Michael asked.
"The second thing is that you made a bad choice when you asked the baker to teach you magic. You should've found someone better for the role," said Fire.
"It was really that bad of a choice?" Michael asked.
"If it had been a good one, you'd already have learned how to use magic," Fire said. "Just remember: there are three kinds of choices. One where picking the wrong option leads to failure, one where all options lead to success, and one where no matter what you choose, you're going to lose. When you chose your magic teacher, you faced the first kind and chose the losing option. And in your battles against Ralf, and then a month later against Zigrane, you faced the third kind—where all options led to defeat."
"I understand now," Michael said.
"Well, if you understand, then start training how to sense the magic around you," Fire told him.
"Alright, but how do I do that?" Michael asked.
"Sit in a meditation pose. That should help you learn faster," Fire answered.
"Okay," said Michael, sitting down to meditate to better sense the magic around him.
After a few minutes, progress came quickly. Michael slowly began to understand what it meant to sense the magic in the surroundings. At one moment, he sensed someone nearby and opened his eyes—but he found himself back in his bedroom. It was already dark, the sun long gone, and only the moon and stars remained in the sky.
"No one's here… Strange. But I definitely sense someone!" Michael said, checking the spot where he sensed the presence. "Whatever. I need sleep, so I shouldn't worry about it."
The next day, Michael found a note in his house. It read:"You'll never defeat me! Weakling! Just keep it to know!"
Not knowing who could've left it, Michael headed back to the tournament, to the same arena as the day before.
There, he was met by Zigrane with his nasty, mocking smile, Ralf with a calm face—clearly not happy to see Zigrane—and Spiner, who smirked and asked mockingly, "Ready to lose to me today, weakling?"
"Only in your dreams. Today will be a nightmare—for you," Michael replied.
"We'll see about that," Spiner said.
"Well, my dear friends, welcome to the second round out of fifteen," the old man said. "Now, I ask the first participants to get ready to enter the arena."
Michael went to prepare since he had the first match again, while Spiner went the other way to get ready.
Once both were prepared, the old man announced, "And entering the arena, we have participant number 2, Michael Blazeheart, and number 674356, Spinner Dashvul!"
"So I am fighting you now," said Michael.
"Of course. What did you think?" Spinner replied.
"Will I see the same thing as yesterday… or will something change today?" Ralf wondered from the spectator stands.
"Begin!" shouted the old man, loud enough for the whole arena.
"I'll try attacking again," Michael thought, rushing forward.
But that was precisely what Spinner had hoped for.
"I knew you'd do that!" he thought and vanished.
Michael was surprised but quickly realized it was the same speed magic Zigrane had used.
"As you can see, I also use speed magic—just like Zigrane," Spiner said, landing a hit on Michael's back.
Michael started taking blow after blow again.
"This is just like yesterday. Boring, but I'll watch," Ralf thought as he observed.
But suddenly, Michael remembered what he trained the day before. He decided to calm down and tried to concentrate, even as Spinner continued hitting him. This surprised everyone, including Spinner, who decided to take advantage of it while Michael wasn't reacting. But right as he was about to strike again, he saw that Michael had turned his head toward him—and in the next moment, Michael struck him so hard he crashed into a wall and shattered it.
"Huh?" Ralf uttered.
"Ow! What was that?" Spinner asked.
"Isn't it obvious? I hit you," Michael replied.
"Yeah, I know it! I meant—how did you know where I was? I was moving constantly at high speed!" Spinner asked.
"I just sensed you. And as for your speed… it was slow. Zigrane was faster than you," said Michael.
"I'm slow?" Spinner asked.
"Yeah. If you disagree—go ahead and attack," Michael challenged.
Spinner kept trying to land a hit from then on, but Michael slammed him into the wall every time. The crowd watched in awe, and even Ralf was surprised—it was something he hadn't expected to see so soon.
When Spiner was nearly out of strength, Michael approached him. Spinner looked up into Michael's eyes—and saw red. It felt like he was staring into the eyes of a demon. Fear gripped him, and he remembered Michael's words—that today would be a nightmare for him.
"I give up! Just don't hurt me!" Spinner screamed in fear.
"Spinner gave up?" Ralf was shocked. "No, it's more than that… He's terrified of something!"
"And the winner of this battle is… participant number 2, Michael Blazeheart!" the old man declared.
Michael's demonic gaze still burning, and he and the terrified Spinner left the arena.
"I didn't think this would interest me," Ralf said with a smile.