Blackthorn's Might

As Cirus and Dorian faced off, the tension in the hall became palpable. The spectators watched in silence as both contestants gathered their aura, channeling it into their bodies and weapons.

Peak Soul-Strengthening Realm!

Both warriors stood at the same level, but Dorian's confident smile didn't falter. "I'll let you make the first move. Go ahead."

Cirus' eyes narrowed. "Then I won't be polite." Without hesitation, he infused his body with aura, his muscles bulging with power, and dashed toward Dorian with blinding speed. His wooden scimitar, crackling with a faint translucid aura, sliced through the air with deadly precision, aiming for Dorian's side.

In one fluid motion, Dorian stepped back and effortlessly parried the strike with his wooden spear, his aura perfectly counterbalancing the force of the attack. The clash of weapons sent a small shockwave through the air, but Dorian's expression remained calm, his stance unshaken.

The crowd murmured in awe as Dorian barely seemed fazed, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with the intensity of Cirus' assault.

A vein in Cirus's head throbbed with frustration. Gritting his teeth, he channeled all his strength into the next attack, determined to overpower Dorian. His scimitar came down with crushing force, aiming to drive Dorian back.

But Dorian remained composed, effortlessly sidestepping the wild attack with grace. With a swift, calculated movement, he countered with a precise thrust of his spear, aimed directly at Cirus's chest.

Cirus's eyes widened in panic. His momentum left him vulnerable, and there was no time to block the spear's thrust. Desperately, he dodged to the right, but not quickly enough. The spear struck his left shoulder with a crack, the impact sending a shockwave through his body.

The force was enough to knock him off balance. Staggering backward, Cirus barely managed to stay on his feet, wincing from the blow as he struggled to regain composure. 

Dorian didn't press the advantage. Instead, he stood tall, allowing Cirus a moment to recover. His calmness contrasted with the intensity of the battle, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Very well," Dorian said, his voice steady and confident. "It's my turn now."

Without waiting for a response, Dorian shifted his stance, his eyes locking onto Cirus. A surge of powerful aura began to gather around him, swirling like a storm as it funneled into his spear. The wooden weapon hummed with energy, glowing faintly as if it were made of something far more dangerous.

In an instant, Dorian lunged forward, the spear moving like lightning. The air seemed to crackle with the sheer force of his aura-infused strike. His spearhead, now brimming with raw power, sliced through the air with precision, aimed directly at Cirus's abdomen.

Cirus barely had time to react, his eyes widening as he hastily raised his scimitar to block. But the sheer force of Dorian's spear overwhelmed him. The impact rattled his arms, sending a shockwave through his body as he was driven backward once again, his feet skidding across the arena floor. 

The crowd gasped in amazement as Cirus struggled to hold his ground, the gap in power between the two warriors becoming painfully clear.

"Even though their mana levels are equal, Dorian's strength is clearly in a league of its own. It's no surprise the Blackthorn family has held dominance over the north for centuries," remarked an orc, his voice filled with admiration as he watched the unfolding battle.

The crowd murmured in agreement as the orc's words resonated through the hall. Several nobles nodded, exchanging glances of approval.

"He's right. The Blackthorn legacy is unmatched," said a vampire lord nearby, his arms crossed as he watched the duel with keen interest.

"Strength like that doesn't come easily. They've earned their place," added an elven noblewoman, her voice tinged with respect.

"Indeed," a dwarf chimed in, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "They breed warriors, not just heirs."

The whispers of admiration swirled around the room, a collective acknowledgment of the Blackthorn family's prowess. Even those who were usually silent in such gatherings found themselves nodding in approval, their eyes fixed on Dorian's confident movements in the arena.

Cirus, still struggling to regain his moment after the earlier exchange, prepared for another attack. But before he could react, Dorian moved with blinding speed, thrusting his spear forward with immense force. The spear struck Cirus's chest with a loud thud.

The impact sent Cirus flying across the arena. He crashed into the magical barrier that surrounded the battleground, the force of the collision reverberating through the room. The crowd gasped collectively as Cirus crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest and gasping for breath.

The elf referee quickly stepped in, raising his hand. "The match is over! Dorian Blackthorn is the victor!"

The hall erupted into applause, some of the younger vampires even cheering as they celebrated Dorian's display of dominance. Dorian, however, simply lowered his spear and gave a respectful nod to his fallen opponent, maintaining his composure despite the overwhelming praise.

Cirus, though beaten, stood up shakily, acknowledging the loss with a respectful bow. Dorian offered him a hand, helping him to his feet, and the two exchanged brief, respectful nods.

Elion observed the scene unfold, impressed by Dorian's victory, but something else caught his attention.

'Valen, what was that translucent energy enveloping their bodies and weapons?' Elion asked silently, seeking guidance from the ancient soul within him.

[That's aura.] 

Valen replied, his voice calm.

[Soul-Strengthening Realms warrior is the minimum requirement to use it. Normally, only those who reach the Body and Soul Fusion Realm can use it. For these two to manipulate it so easily at their level… it shows how exceptional they are. Both of them are far ahead of their peers.]

'Aura, huh? How exactly does that work? It didn't feel like mana at all,' Elion asked, his curiosity piqued.

[That's because it isn't mana.] 

Valen explained, his tone patient but instructive. 

[Although aura originates from mana, they're not the same. Aura is the result of using mana to strengthen the soul, but once created, it operates independently.]

[In the Soul-Strengthening Realm, practitioners use mana to fortify their souls. A strong soul can then extend its influence beyond the body, amplifying physical capabilities—attack power, speed, defense, reflexes—you name it. For any formidable warrior, mastering aura is essential.]

Valen paused, then continued.

[Mages, like warriors, also harness their soul's strength outside their bodies, but the way they use it differs. Since I was never a mage, I won't dive too deep into that. You'll understand more when you reach the Soul-Strengthening Realm yourself, following the path my King has laid for you. Refer to his books.]

'I see, thanks, Val. I can't help but want to break through as soon as possible,' Elion replied, excitement creeping into his mind.

[Don't rush, kid. You're already on the right track,] Valen reassured him. [In fact, you've already managed to use a bit of your soul strength outside your body—by accident. Remember when you fought that demon in Skywood? That lightning strike was a Natural Phenomenon Resonance. The bare minimum requirement for that is manipulating your soul strength externally. Somehow, you pulled it off at the low third realm, which should be impossible.]

'Damn, I barely remember that at all. I'd love to pull that off again,' Elion thought, his curiosity intensifying. 'Once this is over, I'll dive into the Prophet King's books and figure out how to do it consciously.' His mind buzzed with the potential of mastering such power.

[Heh, wait until you break through to the Soul-Strengthening Realm. Don't bite off more than you can chew, kid.]

As Valen and Elion continued their mental conversation, the battle in the arena pressed on. Dorian faced a series of challengers, each weaker than Cirus, and none able to match his strength or skill.

The next opponent, a timid-looking vampire boy with short brown hair, stepped into the ring with a wooden longsword. He approached Dorian cautiously, clearly nervous after witnessing Cirus's defeat. 

"Let the battle begin," the elf referee announced once again.

The boy swung his sword, but Dorian barely flinched. With a swift motion, Dorian sidestepped the attack and tapped the boy's shoulder lightly with the butt of his spear, sending him stumbling backward. His opponent quickly raised his hand in surrender, unable to continue after just one exchange.

Another challenger, a confident girl with fiery red hair, rushed in next. She wielded two wooden daggers and lunged at Dorian with a speed that impressed the crowd. However, her attacks barely grazed Dorian's defenses. He deflected her strikes effortlessly, using precise spear movements to keep her at bay. After a few rounds of futile attacks, she too admitted defeat, breathing heavily from the exertion.

The crowd murmured approvingly, admiring Dorian's dominance. Each new opponent barely lasted more than a single round before they were either knocked down or forced to give up, unable to penetrate Dorian's calm and measured defense.

Elion nodded subtly, watching closely. 'They can't even force him to exert himself. This is just sport to him.'

As another challenger, a hulking orc boy, stepped up and was promptly defeated after a single strike.

The last challenger, a nervous-looking elf with a staff, lasted only a few seconds before Dorian's spear knocked him out cold.

The audience applauded with enthusiasm, and Dorian stood in the center of the arena, undefeated, his smile never wavering.