The final day of the village elder's trial had arrived.
The sun sat high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the arena as spectators gathered for the last match of the first trial. Tension buzzed in the air. Everyone knew who the last combatants were.
Michael stood beside Torren, stretching his shoulders and rotating his wrists. Across from them stood Zigrane and Blitz—the infamous duo who refused to act as a team.
Zigrane was pacing, his arms crossed and a scowl locked on his face. Blitz, meanwhile, leaned against the stone wall at the edge of the field, arms folded, expression unreadable.
"You better not get in my way this time," Zigrane snapped.
"I won't," Blitz replied coolly. "Not because of you—but because I won't be doing anything unless I feel like it."
"Just stay out of this," Zigrane hissed.
"I planned to."
Michael and Torren exchanged glances.
"This works for us," Michael whispered. "If we focus on one target, we've got a better chance."
Torren nodded. "Then we take Zigrane together."
The elder stepped forward and raised his voice.
"Final round of the first trial—Michael and Torren versus Zigrane and Blitz! Begin!"
Michael wasted no time. He charged forward alongside Torren, aiming directly for Zigrane.
Zigrane, still wound up from arguing with Blitz, didn't expect them to attack so decisively. He leaped backward, avoiding the first wave of attacks. Michael's fists lit with fire as he struck out, while Torren raised stone barriers and launched earthen jabs.
Zigrane moved quickly, dodging most of their initial strikes, but the pressure was on. Blitz remained where he was, watching.
Michael created steam with his heated hands as he punched—every strike closer than the last. Zigrane snarled and tried to retaliate, but Torren's earth magic kept cutting off his momentum.
Blitz yawned.
"Idiots," Zigrane growled. "You think you can win with this?"
"We're doing more than thinking," Torren replied, launching a stone wall that boxed Zigrane in.
The space around the trio grew smaller as Torren manipulated the terrain. Zigrane's movement became restricted.
Michael grinned. "Let's finish this before Blitz decides to help."
Torren nodded and began casting again, raising pillars to trap Zigrane tighter.
Just as the final stone cage started to form—Blitz stirred.
With a sigh, he stepped forward, lightning crackling softly around his hands.
"No more fun to watch," he muttered.
"Don't interfere!" Zigrane shouted.
Blitz ignored him.
He raised his hand.
"Lightning Magic. Forbidden Technique—Pillar of Judgment."
A single bolt shot skyward.
A moment of stillness passed.
Then it came crashing down.
The sky opened. A deafening roar split the air as a massive column of lightning slammed into the battlefield.
Michael looked up too late.
Torren spun toward the sound.
Zigrane flinched.
And then—all three were struck.
The world flashed white.
A thunderclap silenced everything.
When the smoke cleared, the battlefield lay scorched. Stone walls had crumbled. The sand was fused into glass in places.
Michael, Torren, and Zigrane lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious. Blitz stood at the edge of the arena, arms crossed again, barely ruffled.
The elder ran forward, eyes wide.
"He used that spell again…" he muttered. "Why does he always go this far?"
He signaled the healers.
"Get them off the field! Now!"
When Michael awoke, the ceiling above him was unfamiliar.
He sat up slowly, his body aching. Clean white sheets surrounded him, and the smell of herbs filled the air.
To his left, Torren stirred in a nearby cot, groaning softly.
"Where…?" Michael muttered.
"You're in the village infirmary," came a voice. The elder stepped in, his hands behind his back. "Welcome back."
"What happened?" Michael asked.
"Blitz ended the fight. With a little too much flair, I might add."
Michael blinked. "Is… is everyone alright?"
"Everyone is alive. That's what matters. Though next time, maybe don't provoke the guy with lightning magic into getting bored."
Michael sighed and laid back down.
"Did we… lose?" he asked.
The elder nodded.
"You did. But I doubt you'll be remembered as the losers in this one."
Outside, the sun was already setting, casting golden beams into the room.
The trial was over.
But in its place… the real competition was just beginning.