Michael and Ralph stepped into the arena, the wooden floor beneath their feet buzzing with energy from the surrounding crowd.
"So, you're my second-to-last opponent," Michael said, eyes steady.
"I hope you put on a better show than last time... in the forest," Ralph replied with a confident smirk.
"Yeah, I've gotten stronger since then. You won't beat me that easily this time," Michael shot back.
"We'll see about that."
"Enough talking! Begin, my friends, begin already!" the elder called, voice echoing.
Both fighters dashed to the center of the arena. Neither of them used magic right away — Michael because his magical abilities hadn't fully awakened, and Ralph because he was curious to test Michael's growth without it.
The first exchange was swift and clean. Fists met forearms, and knees missed ribs by inches. Though Michael landed slightly more hits, Ralph's 9th-rank resilience absorbed them without much trouble.
Michael wasn't naive. He knew Ralph hadn't shown his real power yet. That meant Michael needed more than just brute strength — he needed his instincts.
"There!" Michael thought as he sensed a shift in the air. He raised his arms to block and redirected Ralph's punch, then landed a clean counterattack to the ribs.
Ralph took a step back, blinking. "What was that just now?"
"Shall we continue?" Michael asked.
"Yes," Ralph grinned. The clash resumed.
This time, Michael started dominating the rhythm. He blocked nearly every punch and landed most of his own.
Ralph laughed, his grin stretching wider. "You really have gotten stronger. You're not the same guy from a month ago. That makes this... so much more exciting!"
Michael narrowed his eyes. "What exactly are you getting at?"
"That it's time I showed you what I'm really capable of."
Michael tensed. "Here it comes."
Ralph stepped back and spread his stance.
"Wind Magic: Wind Fist!" he called. Around his hands, the air began to shimmer, twisting in tight spirals.
"Wind magic? So that's his element," Michael thought. "That swirl must be the visible result of compressed air."
Ralph smiled. "Let's begin."
"You mean to continue!" Michael shot back.
Ralph darted forward. His punches now carried more force — not just muscle, but the push of compressed air. Michael blocked the first few, but each impact numbed his arms.
I can't keep taking these, he realized. Time to dodge instead of block.
Michael shifted gears. He started ducking, slipping past each strike, striking when he saw an opening. His movement grew sharper, cleaner.
But just when he started regaining momentum, Ralph stopped suddenly, feet planted firmly.
"Explosive Wind Wave!" Ralph shouted.
A pulse of magic blasted outward. Michael didn't have time to dodge. It hit him square in the chest, sending him skidding back.
Michael groaned, catching his breath. "Mid-range attacks, too? He's not just dangerous up close…"
The fight turned cautious. Michael circled Ralph, inching closer, watching for tells. When he finally saw a gap, he dove in — only for Ralph to call out the same spell again.
"Explosive Wind Wave!" This time, the blast came from Ralph's elbow, pushing him out of reach and repositioning him instantly.
"He can use it to move, too?" Michael thought. "That's… genius."
They clashed again. Sweat beaded on Michael's forehead. His movements grew heavier.
Ralph, by contrast, was still grinning, barely winded.
"Hah… hah…" Michael panted.
Ralph tilted his head. "Tired already? That's a shame. I haven't even shown you my best moves."
Michael steadied his breath, a defiant smile on his lips. "No way… I'm just getting started."
The crowd roared. The real fight was just beginning.
Michael and Ralph stood in the center of the arena, surrounded by anticipation and echoes of the crowd.
"Well, since you're not tired yet," Ralph said with a sharp smirk, "there's still something I want to show you."
"Bring it on! I'm ready for anything!" Michael responded, eyes locked.
"Wind Magic — Air Boots!" Ralph called.
Michael tilted his head. "And what's that supposed to change?"
Ralph's only response was a light jump — and then he began floating off the ground.
"What the..." Michael blinked. "You can fly now?!"
Hovering midair, Ralph grinned. "Yeah. I'm a wind mage, after all. Floating's just one of the perks."
Michael braced himself. "Didn't expect that. Now, how am I even supposed to hit him?"
"So? How long can you keep dodging, Michael?" . Ralph asked as he launched a flurry of attacks from above.
Michael said nothing. He dodged. Again. And again. One after the other.
Minutes passed. Michael kept avoiding every strike. He realized something — if he just kept this up, Ralph would eventually tire out. It wasn't glamorous, but it was hope.
Ralph, meanwhile, was growing frustrated. "He is still standing? Damn it… I didn't think I'd be burning this much energy.". He slowly descended back to the ground.
"What's wrong, Ralph? Worn out already?" Michael called, catching his breath.
"I've used a fair bit of power, yeah," Ralph admitted. "But don't think I'm done. I've got just enough left to knock you flat!"
Michael narrowed his eyes. "So he's still hiding something."
"Wouldn't now be a good time to attack me?" Ralph teased.
"You've clearly got more. Just show it already," Michael growled.
"Heh. You caught on. No point holding back now," Ralph said, raising his arms. "Wind Magic — Wind Armor!"
The wind swirled violently around Ralph's body, forming a barrier that deflected the air itself. It danced like a living shield, wrapping him in protection.
"Wind Armor…?" Michael whispered. "I wonder how strong it is."
Ralph smirked wider. "Go ahead. Hit me. I won't move."
Michael didn't hesitate. He rushed forward and threw a punch — only for his strike to bounce harmlessly off the swirling wind.
"So that's Wind Armor…" he thought, stunned. Each strike he delivered was absorbed or pushed back. No matter how hard he hit, the wind refused to let him through.
Eventually, Michael's movements began to slow. His strength drained.
Then Ralph moved.
With a sharp motion, he shouted, "Wind Blast Wave!" and a pulse of compressed air from his elbow slammed into Michael's chest, sending him crashing into the arena wall.
Michael gasped, his vision spinning. "How did I even let that land…?"
He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't obey.
"Getting up or giving up? Make up your mind!" Ralph taunted, standing tall.
Michael clenched his fists, digging deep. "Get up… come on…!"
But it was too late.
"3! 2! 1! Time's up!" the old man called. "Participant number 2, Michael Blazeheart, is unable to continue! The winner — participant number 156, Ralph Galeheart!"
The crowd exploded — but not in unison. Cheers and groans mixed in equal measure. Unlike previous matches, this one left the audience split. Some were thrilled to see Ralph win. Others, clearly rooting for Michael, were disappointed.
Michael lay there, motionless. But after a few minutes, he forced himself to rise and walked — limped — back to the stands. Torrin sat waiting.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Sore," Michael admitted, managing a smile. "But I'll be fine. Nothing broken."
As he sat down, Ralph approached — this time without a grin.
"You better not lose your next match," he said flatly.
Michael met his gaze. "I wasn't planning to."
Ralph nodded and returned to his seat.
Then came Renald.
"You've gotten stronger. But you're still a weakling," he said with a smirk.
Before Michael could reply, Torrin stood up. "Ha! If he's a weakling, what does that make you? Didn't I wipe the floor with you last round?"
Renald's smirk faltered. "At least I can use magic, unlike him."
"Yeah, and still lost," Torrin countered.
Michael raised his hand. "It's fine, guys. He's right — I'm weak. For now."
Renald laughed. "Nice of you to admit it."
Michael looked toward the sky. "But I've got a feeling that everything's about to change."
Renald rolled his eyes. "Let's hope that feeling isn't lying to you."
The elder's voice rang out again. "Final match of the day! Participant number 136 — Zigrane Vaynran — and number 674356 — Spinner Dashvul — to the arena!"
The crowd stirred again. All eyes turned to the stage. Another grudge match was about to unfold.