Duel

For the first time in his new life, Kael woke up feeling genuinely refreshed.

The usual cloud of fatigue was gone, replaced by a surprising clarity.

For once, he actually looked forward to the day. He finally had a purpose, even if the path to achieving it was completely unknown.

Today was Test Day 2, and all the candidates were gathered in a vast arena. Its open design left little doubt about the day's challenge.

Duels.

'Great,' Kael thought, a familiar weariness settling in. 'Just when I was starting to feel hopeful.'

As anyone might expect, he possessed absolutely zero combat experience.

This left him with no clue how the day would unfold.

The air Suddenly shimmered with energy, a sight they where getting used too.

A golden glyph spiraled into existence above the grounds, and from its center, Vice Headmaster Revek's projection materialized once more. He towered over the arena like a silent, imposing god, his voice echoing, cold and utterly even.

"Candidates of the 179th Generation. Welcome to Trial Two."

"Today, you will demonstrate your ability to handle live combat. The structure is simple—duels."

"You will be paired randomly. Victory is determined by either incapacitation, surrender, or an official call from the overseer."

"Note: elimination will not be enforced in this trial. However, if you run, yield without cause, or fail to act, you forfeit your candidacy."

His luminous eyes seemed to sweep across the multitude, despite being mere light.

"We do not require perfection. Only proof of ability."

With that final pronouncement, the glyph dissolved.

Across the arena, multiple screens flared to life, displaying matchups.

Kael's gaze landed on one particular display:

[ROUND ONE: ARENA FIVE – KAEL DARVEN VS. JARIK RENDEL]

Kael blinked. "Already?"

Theo, standing nearby, glanced at the screen and murmured, "Hmm, House of Rendel."

Kael turned to him. "You know him?"

"Not personally. He's from House Rendel, minor nobles from the kingdom of Vandor," Theo explained, his voice low. "But they've been making a name for themselves lately, pushing for higher titles. Getting into the academy is a must for their children, I guess. That's a tough draw."

"Perfect," Kael mumbled, a lazy crack of his neck accompanying the sarcasm. "My luck just keeps getting better and better."

"I'm assuming you don't have much combat experience?" Theo ventured.

"No, you're wrong," Kael corrected, a slight shrug. "I have no combat experience whatsoever."

"You'll figure it out," Theo said, his voice dry with disbelief. "They did say you don't have to win to pass."

Kael offered another dismissive mutter under his breath and began his slow shuffle toward Arena Five.

The arena's stone surface felt warm beneath his worn boots and the air oppressive.

On the opposite end, his opponent, Jarik, stood poised and ready.

He was tall, powerfully built, his dark hair pulled back neatly. His sword, polished to a brilliant gleam, was already drawn.

Jarik watched Kael with sharp intensity, as if dissecting his entire form.

"Begin!" the instructor's voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Yet, unlike the frenzied starts in other arenas, Arena Five remained still.

Kael simply studied his opponent, tightening his grip on the training sword. He knew he had no real chance against someone like Jarik, who had likely trained since childhood. But that didn't mean he wouldn't put up a fight.

"You were one of the students who destroyed a dummy yesterday, right?" Jarik suddenly spoke, his voice clear, catching Kael off guard.

Kael, unsure where this was leading, simply replied, "Yes?"

Jarik nodded, a flicker of approval in his eyes, then said, "Then it would be my honor to have you as an opponent." He finished with a respectful bow.

Before Kael could even process the strange declaration, Jarik vanished from his spot.

'Fast,' was the only thought Kael managed before Jarik reappeared directly in front of him.

He lunged, blade low, aiming for Kael's ribs with a clean, practiced motion.

'I'm not that easy to get rid of, bastard,' Kael thought, bracing himself.

Even though Jarik was incredibly swift, Kael found he could track his movements when he truly focused, leading him to a quick, surprising conclusion: their agilities were, somehow, similar.

'Now let's test strength.'

Kael swept his sword upward in a clumsy, unrefined arc to meet Jarik's blade.

There was no technique, no elegance to his strike. He just poured every ounce of brute strength he could possibly muster into the blow, and the outcome was devastating.

Their swords clashed mid-air and...

Boom!

...Jarik was sent flying across the arena like a ragged doll.

Kael stood there, genuinely awestruck by the sudden, violent display.

'Not so similar i guess.'

On the other side of the arena, Jarik slowly picked himself up, a surprised grin spreading across his face. He wiped a small trickle of blood from his lips and looked up at Kael. "It seems I still underestimated your strength. But no worries, if I can't beat you in raw power, let's see who has better technique."

Kael instinctively tightened his grip on his weapon.

Boom!

A small explosion of dust erupted as Jarik charged at Kael once more, moving with renewed intensity.

Kael took a deep breath and braced himself.

Jarik appeared in front of him again, swinging his sword sideways, aiming for his waist.

Kael tried to shift his weight and bring his sword down to parry.

It worked, he managed to block the strike.

But then, a devastating force slammed into the other side of his ribs, and the next thing he knew, he was airborne.