Spars

"Cordelia, step forward, you'll be the first one."

As soon as the professor spoke, all the eyes were immediately drawn towards the Saint.

Mine were no different.

Throwing a glance in her direction, I could immediately tell that she was slightly on edge.

Whenever she felt troubled or nervous the right corner of her lips would always twitch ever so slightly.

It was a habit that was unique to her character and made discerning her emotional state remarkably easy for those who played the game long enough to notice this quirk.

Tap… Tap…

However, although a bit nervous she didn't openly show it. 

Stepping forward, she walked up to the professor and extended her hand with a fluid grace.

A faint glow began to emanate from her palm, a gentle hum resonating through the air. 

The light intensified, swirling and coalescing into a defined shape. Within moments, a spear of pure, radiant light materialized in her grasp. 

It shimmered with a brilliance that was almost blinding, casting sharp shadows across the ground.

The professor nodded approvingly, a faint smile playing on his lips. 

"Excellent…" 

He murmured, his voice filled with a mix of interest and expectation. 

"Attack me with your full strength."

Cordelia tightened her grip on the radiant spear, her expression resolute. 

She took a deep breath, centering herself, then lunged forward with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior.

The spear of light shot towards Professor Zane, its brilliance illuminating the surroundings. 

In an instant, the professor's own spear intercepted her attack, the metallic clash ringing through the training grounds.

Cordelia withdrew her spear, spinning it around her hand before striking again, aiming for the professor's torso. 

Each strike was precise, each movement calculated, yet every time, Professor Zane deflected her attacks effortlessly, his spear moving with a fluidity that made it seem like an extension of his body.

Their weapons clashed repeatedly, the professor's eyes never leaving hers. 

His expression remained calm, almost bored, as if her efforts were merely a warm-up for him. 

Cordelia's movements grew faster, her strikes more aggressive, but each one was met with the same, unyielding response.

Professor Zane didn't even seem to break a sweat, his counters and blocks coming with an ease that only heightened Cordelia's frustration. 

The Saint gritted her teeth, her attacks becoming more desperate. 

She tried a feint, then a low sweep, but each maneuver was anticipated and neutralized by her opponent.

Thirty seconds passed, feeling like an eternity. 

Cordelia's breath came in ragged gasps, her movements beginning to falter. 

With a swift motion, Professor Zane's spear hooked around hers, wrenching it from her grasp and sending it skidding across the ground.

The professor's spear remained pointed at her for a moment longer before he relaxed his stance and lowered the weapon.

"So that's this year's 'Sovereign'?" 

Professor Zane's voice was calm, almost casual, but there was a hard edge to it. 

"Good enough."

Cordelia's face flushed with a mix of exhaustion and embarrassment, but she nodded, acknowledging the professor's words.

"Next!" 

Professor Zane's voice rang out again, his eyes scanning the group. 

"Arthur, you're up."

Arthur stepped forward, his expression a mask of calm determination. 

Unlike Cordelia, his movements were devoid of the fluid grace that characterized her style. Instead, his approach was methodical, almost robotic.

With a nod to Professor Zane, Arthur unsheathed his sword, its blade gleaming dully in the morning light. 

He held it with a steady grip, his eyes locked onto the professor's. Without a word, he launched into an attack.

Arthur's strikes were deliberate and precise, but they lacked the finesse of Cordelia's. 

The professor deflected them with ease, his spear moving almost lazily in response. 

However, Arthur's strategy was different. 

He didn't shy away from taking hits, sacrificing a few minor wounds to get closer to his opponent.

Each time the professor's spear landed a blow, Arthur barely flinched, using the opportunity to close the distance between them. 

His blade came perilously close to the professor on several occasions, forcing Zane to take a step back and reevaluate his opponent.

A glimmer of amusement and approval appeared in the professor's eyes. 

Arthur's persistence and willingness to endure pain were commendable. 

But just as it seemed he might land a hit, Professor Zane's expression shifted. 

With lightning speed, he sidestepped Arthur's thrust, and with a powerful punch, he sent the young swordsman flying.

Arthur landed hard, skidding across the ground. He lay there for a moment, dazed but not defeated. 

The professor's smile widened, a rare expression of genuine approval.

"Good!" 

He exclaimed. 

"You've got spirit, Arthur. But you need to refine your technique."

Arthur nodded, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth as he stood up and rejoined the group. 

The students murmured among themselves, the tension rising as the professor's gaze moved to the next student.

"Aveline Shadowblight." 

He called.

The Princess stepped forward with an air of confidence.

She raised her hands, and the air around her shimmered as she summoned her magic. 

A whirlwind formed, circling her slender frame and lifting her slightly off the ground.

With a graceful motion, she directed the wind towards Professor Zane. 

The gusts were fierce, slicing through the air with a sharp whistling sound. 

But the professor stood his ground, his spear slicing through the wind with practiced ease. 

He moved with fluidity, almost dancing as he deflected her attacks.

Aveline's eyes narrowed in concentration. 

She summoned more wind, forming blades that streaked towards the professor. 

Yet, despite the intensity of her magic, Professor Zane's movements remained smooth and untroubled. 

With a final, powerful gust, Aveline tried to unbalance him, but he planted his feet firmly and held his ground.

"Not bad." 

He remarked, stepping forward through the wind. 

"But you lack power."

With a swift motion, he dispersed her magic and tapped her lightly on the shoulder with the butt of his spear, signaling the end of their sparring.

Ian was next. 

He stepped forward, gripping a staff adorned with intricate carvings. 

With a muttered incantation, the temperature around him dropped sharply. 

Ice formed at his feet, spreading outwards in a crystalline pattern. He raised his staff, summoning spikes of ice that shot towards the professor.

Professor Zane deflected the first few spikes, but Ian was relentless. 

More spikes followed, faster and more numerous. 

The professor's spear flashed, breaking each one into shards that scattered across the ground. 

Ian's brow furrowed in concentration as he summoned a massive spear of ice, launching it with all his might.

Professor Zane's eyes gleamed with interest as he sidestepped the icy spear, his own weapon coming down in a decisive arc that shattered the ice into a thousand pieces. 

With a flick of his wrist, he sent a small shockwave towards Ian, knocking the staff from his hands and sending him stumbling back.

"Good effort, but you need more control." 

He mused.

The line of students continued, each facing the professor in turn. 

Some wielded magic, others physical weapons, but none managed to land a significant blow. 

Professor Zane handled each challenge with the same casual grace, offering critiques and encouragement with each defeat.

Finally, my name was called.

"Ash Morningstar." 

Professor Zane announced, his eyes locking onto mine with a curious glint. 

'Here it goes...'

I stepped forward, unsheathing my sword.