Kaelith furrowed his brow as he watched the contestant tentatively, his gaze sweeping across the contestant as if they were a treasured pawn in his game of chess.
A wild and violent flame roared across the stage. The heat rose like a wave, making the air shimmer. Kaelith felt it from where he sat—just a breath of warmth, as there was an invisible barrier protecting the crowd from the waves of the fight.
The white-uniformed boy didn't move much. His eyes were observant and calm. He raised one arm, and a ring of frost burst outward from his body. A sharp ice formed in layers across the platform; it covered it within seconds.
The moment the two elements clashed, the entire stage shook again.
Cracks ran across the floor, and a sharp gust swept through the arena as steam hissed from the collision between fire and ice. The crowd gasped and leaned slightly backward, but Kaelith stayed still.
'Fast,' he thought, watching the boy in red. 'But sloppy. Tsk. Tsk. He wants to burn through everything, zero outsmarting skills.'
The boy in white moved with precision. Each motion had a purpose. He stepped sideways and raised his hand again. Snow spiraled upward in a sharp arc before hardening into a barrier.
The fire slammed into it, sending a shockwave through the platform. A low boom followed. Dust scattered, and some nobles near the front raised their arms to shield their faces.
However, Kaelith didn't bat an eyelid. His gaze was too focused for a five-month-old.
Back in the arena, the boy in white used the mist from the explosion to vanish from sight. When the flames cleared, the red-uniformed boy spun in confusion.
"Come out, you coward, and fight me head-on," but no matter how much he searched for a glimpse of the other boy, he couldn't find him.
Then, he froze, as cold shivers ran through his spine, the hair on his body stood up on end, and his mind blared red in his head.
As he slowly turned around, his hands engulfed in flames, his breath came out in mist, a single cold droplet of sweat trickling down his throat.
Then, a sharp whoosh cut through the air. He raised his flame just in time. The icicle sizzled into steam, melting into liquid. Before he could detect where the attack came from, more icicles flew towards him.
He twisted mid-air as he dodged the attack, and as soon as his legs touched the ground, an icicle in the shape of a spear hovered at his throat.
The boy in red's eyes widened in disbelief, his throat bobbed up and down nervously.
"Victory to Northhelm!" the announcer shouted.
The crowd burst out in cheerful applause.
"Northhelm! Northhelm!"
The white-uniformed boy retracted his magic, the once chilling air returned to its normal temperature. He confidently walked forward before bowing to the emperors and the crowd, and stepped out of the platform.
'Disciplined,' Kaelith thought. 'He's seen real combat. He is not strong enough, but not useless either.'
A quiet shift beside him made him glance back. His mother was still seated, her hand resting lightly on her lap. Her eyes didn't leave him, even when the next match was called. Although her gaze was calm, Kaelith could feel the quiet pressure in her posture—like there was something burning inside her chest—and that, he believed, was the betrothal his father had just arranged.
He turned away, not wanting to miss the rest of the fight.
"Next, Gravemarch and Sunmere!"
Two girls stepped forward next, stepping into the inner ring.
One wore black—Gravemarch colors. The other wore red with gold trim—Sunmere.
They looked young, but their eyes said otherwise.
"Your empire likes to talk big," the Sunmere girl said, voice confident.
The Gravemarch girl didn't respond. She drew a curved blade marked with dark symbols and stood still, silent and focused.
When the bell rang, light exploded across the field.
Orbs of golden magic hovered in the air above the Sunmere girl's head. They pulsed like small suns, raining down beams of fire. Heat washed over the stage, and Kaelith could see the runes on the stone beginning to glow faintly in response.
However, the Gravemarch girl's face had a blank expression, her black hair contrasted with her very pale skin, her black mascara popping out more, and her black-painted lips made her look like she had just come back from the dead.
As she reached her hands out, shadows like tendrils wrapped around her like a second skin. Then, she pivoted between the beams with perfect timing, slipping through them like she'd rehearsed it a hundred times.
Kaelith leaned forward, studying her more closely, as he could feel the stinking smell of death from her powers.
'She's not showing everything,' he thought. 'Interesting.'
A wide arc of flame swept across the field like a bow. Seeing this, the Gravemarch girl slammed her hand into the ground. Darkness surged outward in a low, violent wave. Soon the arena turned dark as the shadows tried to suppress the flame.
The shadows grew thicker, like layers upon layers. The girl from Sunmere struggled to keep the flame burning, her knees wobbling as her back crouched down.
Soon, a loud blast shook the air, as the shadows moved like a storm, roaring violently through the sky.
The Sunmere girl flew back, her feet dragging across the stone before she hit the edge of the platform.
Her body slumped over the ground as she fell unconscious.
"Victory… to Gravemarch," the announcer called.
This time the crowds didn't cheer that loud; only the people from Gravemarch cheered for her.
While the rest of the crowd looked at her with disgust.
"Bloody deadmongers," a man in the crowd spat out in displeasure.
Unknown to him, a slim, tall man was staring at him. An amused smile formed on his lips. His long dark hair fell over his shoulders, with some part covering one side of his face. His eyes were lined with black paint, even his lips were painted black. The man was sitting on the Gravemarch side of the arena, his long slender hands gently caressing the cold blade in his other hand.
The Gravemarch girl picked up her blade casually, twirling it around her fingers before placing it in the sheath on her waist. She walked off without a word, a small smirk tugging her lips.
Kaelith's eyes narrowed at her retreating frame. 'She's dangerous… A worthy weapon.' His eyes flickered with an unreadable glint.