“Some battles are won before the bde leaves its sheath.”

  POV: Cain

  The arena shimmered with yered barriers and spell-reinforced walls. Morning sunlight pierced through the domed roof of the combat hall, casting the dueling stage in golden light.

  The stands were packed. Nobles from human, elven, and even dwarven courts lined the upper balconies. Professors filled the middle tier. Students filled the rest. Whispers cracked like static through the air.

  I felt every eye.

  Professor Tholric Bravestone stomped to the center with his usual gravel-scarred voice.

  “Before the match begins, one matter must be made public.”

  A hush fell across the crowd.

  “A wager has been decred and accepted between duelists Cain William and Tareth Vellin.”

  Eyes turned toward me. More whispers. I smiled.

  Tholric continued. “If Cain loses, his bonded spirit — the High Wind Sovereign Luna — will become bound to Tareth.”

  Luna stood in silence, impassive at the edge of the ring.

  “And if Cain wins... Tareth’s magic core will be destroyed. Permanently.”

  A sharp gasp broke out across the audience. Even the noble boxes stirred with disbelief. Bets were one thing. This was... madness.

  “Bound spirits don’t change hands!”“He’s a half-blood! This is absurd!”“He can’t possibly win against two trained nobles—”

  Tholric raised a hand. Silence returned.

  “These terms were accepted in the presence of faculty and sealed by oath.”

  The announcer, recovering his dramatic fre, stepped into the arena's center with a booming voice:

  “Cain William and Elira. Versus Lorran Vaircrest and Tareth Vellin. Begin!”

  POV: Cain

  Wind surged beneath my boots as I stepped forward. My bde gleamed, catching the light.

  Across the field, Lorran and Tareth looked every inch the noble heirs — polished, well-fed, smug. Tareth sneered like he already owned Luna. Lorran burned with fire magic at his fingertips.

  I rolled my shoulders.

  “Hey, Tareth,” I called. “You still want to own Luna? After this, you might want to ask your mama for a healing potion instead.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You won’t be smirking when you’re on your knees.”

  “I won’t be smirking then because I’ll be ughing.”

  Lorran lunged first — a fme-ced sword strike aimed low. I darted aside, twisting with a burst of wind underfoot, and countered with a rising ssh that caught him across the ribs. Nothing deep — just enough to remind him I wasn’t the same kid from two weeks ago.

  Elira shifted behind me, already casting a buff—her green light washing over my body. Reflex enhancement. Slight healing pulses. She stayed just outside striking range, always circling, her eyes wide but focused.

  Tareth stayed back, fingers weaving a mid-tier lightning spell. I felt the crackle even before it surged.

  “Scatter!” I yelled.

  Elira rolled left. I unched skyward with a burst of wind, narrowly avoiding the bolt. The bst left a crater where I’d stood.

  “Seriously?” I yelled mid-air. “This is a duel, not a war crime!”

  POV: Elira

  I’d never seen Cain like this. Confident. Controlled. Lethal.

  He moved like the wind itself obeyed him — not just power, but purpose. Luna’s training was etched into every motion, every strike. I could barely keep up.

  But I had to.

  My job wasn’t to fight. It was to keep him standing. My healing magic arced out, stitching torn skin, dampening muscle strain, nudging his reflexes into overdrive.

  But even as I cast, I thought—

  He’s not just fighting them. He’s fighting the weight of everything he’s been through.

  Every time Tareth threw a taunt.Every time Lorran’s fmes burned closer.Cain cut through them like he was severing his past.

  But gods, they were fast.

  Lorran came for me once — a fire bolt aimed too close. Cain intercepted with a wind slice that knocked him off bance.

  “Eyes up, Elira!” he called. “Don’t make me do all the dramatic saves!”

  I smiled through my panic. “Then stop putting yourself in range of fireballs!”

  POV: Luna

  From the edge of the ring, I watched.

  This match wasn’t just a test of power.

  It was a test of conviction.

  Cain’s strikes cked polish — but they struck true. His footwork, born from instinct and pain, had evolved into something dangerous. He did not hesitate. He did not flinch.

  But he wasn’t perfect.

  He relied too much on dodging. His core, though Red now, still cked depth. And Elira...

  Elira was blooming.

  Casting on the move. Healing from range. Adjusting to his mana rhythm.

  But she still doubted. Still hesitated too long between each cast.

  I failed them in that. I thought. I taught them how to survive. I must now teach them how to lead.

  POV: Elyndor William

  From the private box above the crowd, I watched with arms folded. I ignored the nobles beside me — most muttering about the absurdity of the bet.

  Beside me sat Selene, dutiful and quiet as always.

  “Report,” I murmured without turning.

  She spoke without pause. “Subject Cain has reached Red-Dark core cssification. Accelerated growth confirmed. Team cohesion with Elira improving. Combat instincts refined. Magic control evolving.”

  I nodded slowly. “So… the wild seed grew after all.”

  Selene lowered her voice. “I believe he may become dangerous, my lord.”

  “Good,” I said, smiling faintly. “Let him.”

  The Final Blow – Cain’s POV

  Tareth tried to trap me with a two-stage combo — lightning surge followed by fme wall. Smart. Efficient. Arrogant.

  I smirked. And sprinted through it.

  The crowd gasped as I unched myself through his spell — shielded by Elira’s healing burst and sheer bloody-minded wind acceleration.

  My bde hit his chestpte, knocking him ft.

  Then I twisted and kicked Lorran in the face just as he raised his casting hand.

  They fell.

  Hard.

  The arena fred red.

  “Victory: Cain and Elira!”

  Post-Match — Chaos

  The crowd roared.

  Some cheered.

  Some argued.

  Some whispered — too loudly.

  And from the back, I heard it:

  “The bet was too harsh. This defeat’s humiliation enough. Do we need to destroy his core?”

  The voice belonged to a human noble in blue silks.

  Before I could say anything, Luna stepped forward, slow, deliberate.

  “I was the prize,” she said. “But none of you spoke when I was put on the line. Now you pity him?”

  Tareth, bruised and clutching his ribs, looked up in horror.

  Luna raised her hand. Wind surged to a scream. Magic shaped like a spear formed between her fingers — not physical, not mortal, but pure core-rupturing essence.

  “No,” he croaked. “Please—”

  “You would have devoured Cain if he lost,” she said coldly. “You would have broken him and ughed.”

  The spear struck Tareth’s chest — not hard.

  Just deep enough to pierce the core.

  Magic burst in a wave of white-blue light.

  Then faded.

  Tareth colpsed, groaning. His body still lived. His core... did not.

  He would never cast again.

  Upper Tier – Vera & Iris

  High above, Vera Ashthorn sipped wine from a crystalline cup, her bck-gold robes fluttering.

  Next to her, Princess Iris Seraphina Ethera watched with arms folded, expression unreadable.

  “The terms were met,” Vera said. “Let none say we are unjust.”

  Iris nodded. “It was harsh. But fair.”

  “Power must mean something,” Vera added.

  Iris gnced at her. “Do you think he’s the one?”

  Vera didn’t answer.

  She only watched the boy with wind in his eyes and a spirit at his side.

  Far Side of the Stands — Arin & Kae

  Arin Velhart watched the match’s end in silence.

  Beside her, Kae Dorne snorted.

  “Damn. Didn’t think the sarcastic half-elf had it in him.”

  Arin narrowed her eyes. “He’s unpredictable. But... not unfocused.”

  “You worried?”

  “No,” Arin said calmly. “I’m interested.”