The Duel

The mid-season ranking matches were dragging on, ten days into the competition. The same monotonous battles, the same predictable outcomes—no one could touch me. My opponents had exhausted every possible strategy, but my abilities left them without options. Barriers? Easily shattered from a distance. Spells? Scattered or neutralized on a whim. Even physical reinforcement with magical tools had become second nature, allowing me to move with lightning speed beyond the reach of any attack.

As I roamed the academy's corridors, a heated argument reached my ears.

"Karina, why won't you accept my gift?" Prink's voice bristled with frustration.

"The choice to accept a gift lies with the one receiving it," Karina replied with calm defiance.

"That's absurd! I've never heard of a fiancée rejecting a gift from her betrothed!"

It was Prink and Karina—again. The conversation had all the makings of a bad soap opera, but this time, I decided to intervene.

"Prink," I said, stepping forward. "Persistent men aren't exactly popular."

He sneered. "I don't need advice from you. I see it now—you're still not over her, are you?"

"And what if I'm not?"

Prink's eyes gleamed with misplaced confidence. "Then I challenge you to a duel."

I smirked, amusement flickering through me. "If I lose, I'll leave Karina alone."

"And if I lose," Prink said, "I'll stop sending gifts."

Karina cut in, her voice firm. "And if Ride loses, I'll accept Prink's gifts."

Her challenge sealed the terms.

"Agreed. We'll settle this in the ranking match," Prink declared, his tone triumphant. "I'll take first place and everything with it."

As if on cue, the match organizers shuffled things, and, surprise, surprise, my next opponent was none other than Prink.

"Coincidence?" I muttered.

Beside me, Phantom gave a sly grin. "Not quite, boss. I had a hand in it. Figured you'd want to settle this quickly."

"Well done."

"Always a pleasure to assist."

When it came time to prepare for the match, Phantom inspected my drink and gave a subtle shake of his head.

"Poison," he murmured.

Prink, it seemed, had more up his sleeve than just bravado. Poison? That was child's play.

I had a better idea. "Phantom, do you have any paint that makes the skin look pale—like someone's sick?"

"Sure do," Phantom said cheerfully. "It's a tradition in my tribe. We paint our faces before a hunt."

That was... unexpectedly convenient. I smeared the pale-blue paint over my face, glancing at the mirror. It gave me just the right amount of sickly pallor—perfect to trick Prink. I'd let him think the poison worked, just long enough to savor his misplaced victory.

The match began, and I staggered for effect.

Prink's grin widened. "You look unwell. Feel free to forfeit. I'll consider it a win."

"You poisoned me, didn't you?" I said, voice weak.

"Who's to say?" Prink replied smugly.

"Let's begin!" the referee shouted.

Feigning weakness, I stumbled as Prink launched his first attack.

"Fireball!"

I didn't dodge but let the spell hit—or rather, let my Destruction Field dissolve it harmlessly against my clothes. I clutched my chest, gasping dramatically.

"Oh no, it burns!" I cried, playing my part.

Prink cackled. "That's what you get for meddling with my engagement! Fireball! Fireball! Fireball!"

The spells fizzled out as they reached me, never touching my skin.

Then, with grand theatrics, Prink raised his hand. "Big Fireball!"

The massive spell dissolved mid-air before it could even reach me.

Prink froze, confusion spreading across his face. "What...?"

I switched on my Physical Enhancement Tool.

"Let me show you how it's done," I said, grinning as I dashed toward him.

Before he could react, I kicked him with enough force to send him sprawling. I followed it up by stomping on his head, again and again. His protests came in panicked gasps.

"W-what about the poison?"

I leaned down, holding up the magical tool Phantom had warned me about. "This little thing? It has an antidote function."

Of course, I hadn't actually needed it, but there was no reason to let Prink in on that.

"Y-you knew all along...?" he whimpered.

"That's right."

With every stomp, I could feel his arrogance shattering. The crowd watched in stunned silence as I hammered Prink into submission, his body eventually flung from the arena by the damage barrier.

"Victory to Ride!" the referee declared.

I strolled off the platform, feeling immensely satisfied. Even the minor burns from Prink's attempt at a spell were healing, thanks to my enhanced physique.

With the duel settled, my thoughts turned back to Karina. Perhaps a gift was in order—something meaningful, something unique.

An idea struck me. There was a type of herb, the Rose Herb, known for its vibrant, rainbow-colored petals. It was rare, its beauty reserved only for those fortunate enough to witness it. The ordinary version, called the False Rose Herb, was common and produced plain white flowers.

But I could change that.

I purchased a potted False Rose Herb from a local florist and channeled my magic through it, transforming its flowers into a shimmering rainbow display. The effect was perfect—priceless, yet heartfelt.

With the enchanted herb in hand, I penned a message:

"This False Rose Herb has blossomed into something real. Just as I have grown from pretense into something true, I hope the bond between us blooms as beautifully."

Days later, I received a response from Karina—a locked journal, adorned with an intricate Rose Herb design. Inside was a pressed flower bookmark, carefully placed between the pages.

The note read: "I await the day you come for me."

It seemed that Karina's engagement to Prink was unraveling. Whispers hinted at her family reconsidering their decisions, slowly returning things to how they once were.

It wouldn't be long now.

The day I'd win her back was fast approaching.