The fight was getting intense. Pyros roared, flames flaring from its mane, while Torrent coiled with precision, dodging the lion's strikes and striking back with powerful water blasts. Cedric stood firm, eyes focused, his hand raised to guide Torrent's movements. Cyruz, on the other hand, was sweating heavily, his breathing ragged as he poured more mana into Pyros, desperately trying to keep up.
Suddenly, Cedric raised his hand, and Torrent stopped moving, its body straightening and calming as if the battle had ended. Cyruz, panting heavily, blinked in disbelief. "W-What are you doing?!" he shouted, his voice strained. "Why did you stop?! I'm not finished yet!" His fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes burned with frustration.
Cedric, calm and unbothered, didn't even turn his head to reply. Instead, he looked toward Vivienne, who had been watching silently from her elevated seat. She met Cedric's gaze, her expression cool and unreadable. After a moment, she stood up gracefully, her presence commanding everyone's attention.
"The winner of this round," she announced, her voice clear and unwavering, "is Cedric."
The words echoed through the training grounds, and whispers erupted among the spectators. Cyruz's eyes went wide with shock. He took a shaky step forward. "No! Sister, I still can! Let us continue! I—I can still fight!" His voice grew desperate, but his legs wobbled, and before he could take another step, his knees buckled.
"Young Master!" his butler shouted, rushing forward just in time to catch him before he collapsed completely. Cyruz was pale, his breaths coming out in sharp pants, sweat dripping from his forehead. His hands gripped his butler's sleeves tightly, his eyes still locked on the battlefield as if refusing to accept the loss.
Axelius, watching from the side, raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly, whispering to Owen. "Well, that was dramatic," he chuckled. "He looked like he was about to cry."
Owen snorted. "That's what happens when you act all high and mighty. He wasted all his mana just to show off."
Axelius nodded, then stretched his arms behind his head. "Still," he mused, "Cedric didn't even break a sweat. That's kinda impressive."
Elias, standing quietly behind him, spoke up, "Young Master Cedric is very efficient with his mana usage. He has always been that way—calm, calculated, and never wasting energy."
Axelius grinned. "Maybe I should take some notes, huh?"
Elias chuckled softly. "It wouldn't be a bad idea, Young Master."
Vivienne's voice cut through the chatter. "Prepare for the next match," she announced, her voice carrying authority. Servants rushed to clean up the area, and Cedric stepped back calmly, Torrent obediently slithering behind him like a shadow.
Vivienne stood gracefully from her seat, her voice clear and commanding as she addressed the crowd. "The next battle will be hand-to-hand combat," she announced, pausing to let the excitement ripple through the audience. "Any weapon is allowed. The contenders for this round are... Cedric and Axelius."
A wave of whispers erupted from the crowd, heads turning in disbelief. Axelius blinked, then chuckled, his eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, it's my turn," he muttered to himself, grinning as if he found the whole situation amusing. He casually reached up, picking Owen off his head like he was plucking an apple from a tree.
Turning to Elias, Axelius sauntered over with a carefree swagger. "Hold him, Elias," he said, placing the invisible slime carefully in Elias's outstretched hands.
Though Elias couldn't see anything, he cupped his hands obediently, nodding with respect. "Yes, Young Master. Good luck," he replied, voice steady and polite. Elias's hands stayed in that position, even though to everyone else it looked like he was holding nothing but air. A few maids nearby exchanged puzzled glances but said nothing.
Axelius gave a lazy stretch, cracking his neck as he made his way to the center of the training grounds. Cedric was just about to step forward as well, but a hand shot out, stopping him in his tracks. Cyruz, his face looking a bit pale but determined, had grabbed Cedric's arm.
"I want to fight him," Cyruz declared, his voice louder than usual, almost desperate. He held up two small glass bottles—one blue and one green—both now empty. "I've already drunk a mana regeneration potion and a fatigue recovery elixir. I'm good as new, ready to fight again."
Cedric turned his gaze towards Vivienne, who raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. "It's up to you, Cedric," she said simply, folding her hands in front of her, eyes steady.
Cyruz's eyes flashed with hope, turning to his older brother. "Give me this one, brother," he urged, almost pleading.
Cedric hesitated, glancing back at Axelius, who was now stretching his arms like he was preparing for a morning jog. With a sigh, Cedric stepped back. "Fine," he murmured, voice low. "Just don't embarrass yourself again."
Cyruz's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and he practically leaped to the center of the grounds, facing Axelius with renewed confidence. Vivienne raised her hand once more. "The match will be Cyruz versus Axelius," she announced, her voice ringing out across the courtyard. "Now... choose your weapons."
Cyruz didn't waste time. He immediately walked over to the weapons rack and grabbed a steel longsword, its blade glinting under the sunlight. He swung it once, testing its weight, and grinned. "Perfect," he said with satisfaction, pointing the blade towards Axelius.
Axelius, on the other hand, strolled up casually, hands in his pockets. He looked over the weapons lazily, like he was picking out fruit at a market. Finally, he settled on a wooden staff, long and slightly curved at the end. He picked it up, giving it a small twirl before leaning on it like a walking stick. "This'll do," he said with a grin.
Cyruz scoffed. "A stick? Are you mocking me, Axelius?" he sneered, sword still pointed at him.
Axelius chuckled, patting the wooden staff. "Well, you know, I figured I wouldn't need much against you," he replied with a smirk. "After all, I wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face of yours. I'm sure the maids would cry."
The crowd snickered, and Cyruz's face flushed with anger. "You talk big for someone who spent years hiding in his room," he spat back. "The only thing you ever fought was probably your own nightmares."
Axelius yawned dramatically, scratching his head. "Wow, you really worked hard on that one, huh? I almost felt a sting... but not really," he taunted, twirling the staff again and resting it on his shoulder. "Maybe I should take it easy on you. Don't want you crying back to Sister Vivienne again."
Cyruz's knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword. "I'm going to enjoy shutting that mouth of yours," he growled, taking a step forward.
Axelius leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "You can try," he said, his grin never faltering, "but be careful. I bite."
The reminder made Cyruz flinch just a little, his hand twitching instinctively to the bandage hidden beneath his sleeve. His expression hardened, and he raised his sword in a ready stance.
Vivienne raised her hand. "Prepare yourselves," she announced, eyes sharp and unblinking. "Begin!"