He, who observe II

As the smoke in the air began to dissipate, the figures of two combatants gradually emerged. One was kneeling, while the other lay collapsed on the ground. To everyone's astonishment, it was the mage who lay defeated, and the noble was the one kneeling in front of him, gritting his teeth in pain.

"It seems I still have much to learn about fighting mages," the noble remarked, his voice strained yet resolute.

With that final statement, he rose unsteadily to his feet, leaving the center of the arena and heading straight for the judges to receive their remarks. His eyes were dim, the spark of life nearly extinguished, yet there was an inexplicable determination still burning within them.

The judges, completely overwhelmed by the sheer unexpected turn of events, were left in a state of confusion and astonishment. How had the noble, teetering on the brink of death, managed to endure and turn the tide of battle in his favor? How had he triumphed against a spell so powerful that even Gaia's Blessing couldn't negate it?

Whispers of disbelief and awe rippled through the audience. The noble's unexpected victory had not only saved his life but also reclaimed his honor. The enigmatic determination in his eyes hinted at a deeper resolve, a promise that this defeat was merely a stepping stone to greater strength.

As the noble stood before the judges, his presence demanded their attention. His body bore the marks of a fierce battle, but his spirit remained unbroken. The judges, regaining their composure, prepared to deliver their verdict on this astonishing duel.

After a few minutes of deliberation, the judges finally delivered their verdict.

"Theodore Uz Pormenia Locus. PASSED."

Cheers erupted among the participants, echoing throughout the arena. For him, such battle is mere facade, but fighting with dignity and standing steadfast was a feat worthy of admiration. Despite the resounding approval, Theodore's face remained indifferent as he turned away from the judges to face the mage.

The mage, now awake but still lying on the ground, was overcome with emotion. Instead of heading to the clinic, he stayed, tears streaming down his face. His dirtied hands attempted to wipe away the relentless flow of tears, but it was futile.

Witnessing the mage's ordeal, Theodore made his way toward him. The clacking of his crude, now damaged beyond repair armor echoed with each step. Upon reaching the mage, Theodore extended his hand in an offer of help.

His gaze was still emotionless, yet the sun's rays cast an almost saintly glow upon him. Misunderstanding the gesture, the mage slapped Theodore's hand away and stood up on his own.

His eyes were filled with malice, his emotions seething with vengefulness. Without a word, he turned and walked away from the arena, leaving the scene of his defeat behind.

***

It happened so quickly, yet I perceived the entire event with crystal clarity. Amidst the smoke designed to obscure the noble's power, a strange formation of magical runes materialized from thin air. These particles, resembling light but seemingly possessing the weight of matter, disrupted the mist around them.

But how was this possible? His magic had been restrained, his entire body shackled. He had no means of movement or ability to deploy. Even his Gaia's blessing was rendered ineffective against Astria. Moments earlier, he had been entirely at the mercy of the mage.

Yet, astonishingly, the light that emanated from his body annihilated any materialized magic. Within seconds, his entire form, once bound by chains, was liberated. His hand immediately grasped his discarded weapon, his armor glowing brightly as if to negate any dark magic.

Time seemed to decelerate. Every projectile from Astria was blocked and obliterated upon impact with the noble's sword, completely shattering my belief that gravity was the most powerful force in the universe.

I saw his eyes, fierce and focused entirely on the mage. His body bent forward, adopting a stance preparing for a counterattack. Then, he leaped, moving at a speed rivaling light itself. In the blink of an eye, he appeared directly in front of the mage, his weapon poised for a downward strike.

I never heard him whisper a spell, nor did I hear a single word escape his lips. Yet, the magic around him coalesced, synchronizing with his movements and bolstering his strength to combat the surrounding darkness.

It concluded with the mage being struck from above, crashing to the ground and bouncing twice before finding his final resting place. The next moment, the noble also fell, but he managed to hold his position and knelt before the fallen mage.

***

As cheers eruption soon died down. The judges soon announced the 2nd phase of the battle. This time... it was us. 

We moved at the center of the arena, we bowed to share respect, but the commoner merely smirk and gave me an insulting gaze, as if he was looking down at me. Ignoring his attempt of mockery once more, I look at the judges, there I saw a lady of elegance, her attire similar to that of the standard academy uniform of a senior. 

***

Bearing a face reminiscent of his scrutinizing mother, her silvery hair with a bluish hue swayed flawlessly with the wind, her eyes locked on the eldest son of Narra with an intensity that could pierce through steel. "It seems even the institution's rules cannot defeat such stubbornness. Why are you here?"

Behind the judges stood a lady of high noble birth. Her alabaster skin glowed with an almost ethereal quality, starkly contrasting with her deep, oceanic eyes that shimmered with an enigmatic blend of cold detachment and fierce intelligence. She hailed from the illustrious Swietenia family, known for their formidable lineage and unyielding prowess.

Her attire spoke of her prestigious standing within the academy. A meticulously tailored white leather coat, adorned with a red collar and black buttons, hugged her form with an air of authority. The red skirt added a bold splash of color, hinting at her fiery spirit beneath the composed exterior. Clutched in her hand was a sword, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and arcane power, its blade gleaming with an otherworldly light.

The weapon, an emblem of her family's heritage, bore the likeness of the legendary white snake that once roamed the lands of Swietenia. Its presence radiated a dangerous beauty, the mana-infused blade shimmering with a mesmerizing array of colors that seemed to dance and flicker in the light. This anti-magic weapon was a marvel, defying the conventional norms of their fantasy realm and striking awe into the hearts of all who gazed upon it.

As she stood there, her posture exuded a mixture of elegance and strength. The judges, seasoned and stern, could not help but cast admiring glances at her, recognizing the power and prestige she embodied. Her presence alone was enough to command respect, and the mana radiating from her sword was a testament to her unparalleled skill and the dangerous potential she wielded.

In that moment, the air around her seemed to crackle with latent energy, a tangible reminder of the Swietenia family's legacy. Her gaze never wavered as she looked at the man, a silent challenge emanating from her as she stood tall, a paragon of nobility and power in the heart of the academy.

"Is that one of my fiancé candidates, Grandpa?" Her voice, though soft, carried an undeniable authority, resonating through the silence that had settled over the arena.

The head judge could only sigh. "Yes."

She gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable as she continued to observe the eldest son of Narra.