The Fourth Match of the Third Stage: Elaira Winterglaze vs. Selene Warren

The time for the next match was drawing near. Elaira Winterglaze stood among the other participants, her breath steady but focused. Her gaze kept returning to the girl with the cards — the mysterious contestant number 195460, about whom almost nothing was known.

The girl sat silently in a dark cloak, her hood casting a shadow over her face. Her eyes were hidden, but a faint, unchanging smile rested on her lips — as if she knew something no one else did. Elaira couldn't tell whether it was confidence or quiet mockery.

She drew a deep breath, feeling the flow of magic inside her start to stir."What kind of power does she have?" she wondered.

The elder's voice rang out across the arena:"Next match. Contestants number 195460 and number 657431 — prepare yourselves!"

Elaira straightened. The number 195460 now held weight — it belonged to her next opponent.

Then came the full announcement:"Fourth match of the third stage. Contestants: Elaira Winterglaze, number 657431, and Selene Warren, number 195460. Step onto the arena!"

Selene Warren. Elaira repeated the name silently, committing it to memory.

Selene was the first to rise, gracefully slipping her deck of cards into the leather pouch at her side."Well then, Elaira," she said softly, tilting her head slightly. "Let's see who's more surprising today."

Elaira didn't respond. She stepped forward calmly, though tension coiled in her chest.

The arena floor was half-packed earth, half stone, and the surrounding walls were made of worn but sturdy stone blocks. The air was thick with anticipation, and each step echoed as the two girls made their way to their starting positions.

Elaira took her place and centered herself. Faint sparks of magic shimmered at her fingertips — not aggressive, but alert. Across from her, Selene stood relaxed, slowly spinning a single card between her fingers, her constant smile still playing on her lips beneath her hood.

The elder's voice rang out again, firm and final:"Fourth match of the third stage. Elaira Winterglaze versus Selene Warren. The match begins!"

Michael sat on a long wooden bench with the other contestants, arms folded as he watched the arena."Hard to say who's going to win," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "They're just... too different."

Torren, seated beside him, watched with quiet intensity."Yeah. Selene channels her magic through cards. Each one takes time to prepare. That's her weakness. But once ready, they can pack a punch."

Michael nodded, still watching."Elaira, on the other hand... her prediction magic kicks in instantly. She can react before something even happens. That's a huge edge."

"Predictions give her direction," Torren added. "They show what could happen — but she still has to act on them fast enough. If she can, Selene won't control the pace."

Michael tilted his head."So, you're leaning toward Elaira?"

Torren gave a brief nod."Yes. Less setup, faster execution. That's a tactical advantage."

Michael didn't disagree, but his brow furrowed."Still... Selene. There's something off about her. That constant smile under the hood. Like she's already playing five moves ahead."

Torren almost smiled."Maybe she is. But Elaira can see ahead too — just in a different way. If she reacts in time, Selene's tricks won't matter."

Michael leaned forward, elbows on his knees."So who will win?"

Torren paused."Elaira. Probably. She's more flexible. But Selene might surprise us if she pulls off a good combo. It's all about speed and focus now."

"Well," Michael said, exhaling, "guess we'll find out soon."

Elaira and Selene stood motionless on opposite sides of the arena. Seconds ticked by. Neither moved. Each was waiting for the other to act — both knowing that one wrong move could give the advantage away.

"We'll be standing here all day if no one does anything," Elaira thought, flexing her fingers. "I need to act first — or at least be ready for it."

Selene tilted her head slightly and took a step forward, casual and playful. Her smile didn't change. Elaira matched her step. Then another. Their movements grew sharper, faster — until, suddenly, Selene lunged.

Her punch came fast, sharp and low — but Elaira was already moving. A flicker of foresight ignited in her mind: the punch, the angle, the timing. She twisted away just in time.

"Phew! That was close," she thought, heart pounding. "She's fast... but I can still read her."

Elaira immediately countered with a swift jab toward Selene's side — but Selene shifted, avoiding it with ease, as if she too had seen it coming.

The exchange intensified. Elaira focused her foresight, brief bursts of magical insight showing her Selene's next motions just before they came. Each punch missed its mark by inches as she stepped, ducked, dodged.

But Selene was no easier to hit. She moved with practiced ease, reading Elaira's body as if it spoke a language she understood fluently. Their fists sliced through empty air in an elegant, dangerous rhythm.

"Not bad," Selene said, slipping past another strike. "You dodge like you've seen this all before."

Elaira didn't answer. Maintaining her magic's precision was draining, but she had no choice — every move demanded it. Every dodge was the result of seeing, and reacting to, what might happen.

The two circled each other, punches flying, never landing. The dance continued, tense and controlled, neither able to break through the other's defense.

"I need to change the tempo," Elaira thought, her body tightening for the next move. "She's waiting for a mistake — I won't give it to her."