CHAPTER 63: FIGHTING

"Name," she said as I approached.

"Hadeon Ravana."

She looked up, actually surprised and did a double look. "The criminal kid? Didn’t expect you."

"I’m full of surprises." I said in a flat voice.

"You know the rules?"

"There are no rules. Fight until someone yields, dies, or physically can’t continue. Healing available between matches but not during. Killing is discouraged but not disqualified. Standard liability waivers apply."

"You’ve done your homework." She pulled out a registration crystal. "Place your hand here."

I did. The crystal glowed, recording my magical signature and current power level.

She frowned at the reading. "A rank? That’ll put you in the upper bracket. You sure about this? The people you’ll face..."

"I’m sure."

"Your funeral." She marked something on her ledger. "You’re competitor forty-seven. Bracket assignments will be posted in ten minutes. First match is tomorrow at sunset. Don’t be late."

I stepped away, scanning the crowd. Seraphina was already here, registering too and so were a dozen other academy students I recognized. But there were also people I didn’t know, and they radiated power.

A woman in full combat armor, barely containing her magical pressure. A hooded figure whose shadow seemed to move independently. A man with ritual scarring across his visible skin.

This wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t just because of the gold that lots of people participated but because they get to use their powers against others.

Being in a book let me know just how it felt having powers and not using it. It always etched.

"Hadeon!" Marcus pushed through the crowd, Damian right behind him. "Registration’s done. I’m number fifty-two."

"You’re competing?"

"Support bracket in non-combatants can enter a separate competition, basically we create the best combat enchantments under time pressure. Winner gets 10,000 gold and bragging rights." He grinned. "I could use the money and the challenge."

"Just don’t blow yourself up." I warned.

"No promises."

The registration woman banged a gong. "Brackets are posted!"

The crowd surged toward the far wall, where magical projection showed the tournament tree. Sixty-four names, arranged in a single-elimination bracket.

I found my name: #47 - H. Ravenna (A)

My first opponent: #18 - K. Shadowmere (A+)

Never heard of them.

"I got an A-rank in round one," Marcus said, reading his own bracket. "Lucky draw."

"No such thing as luck in these tournaments," someone said behind us.

I turned.

The speaker was a tall woman, with platinum blonde hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. She wore Shadowgrove Academy colors of greens and blacks and moved with the fluid grace of a trained assassin.

"Kaeel Nightwhisper," she introduced herself. "Captain of Shadowgrove’s team. We’ll be facing each other at the Inter-Academy Tournament."

"Hadeon Ravana. Though you clearly knew that." I said with a slight humorless smile.

"Hard not to, you’ve made quite a name for yourself." She glanced at the bracket. "I’m your round-two opponent. Assuming you beat Shadowmere."

"Assuming you beat yours."

"I will. He’s competent but predictable." She studied me with unsettling intensity. "I wanted to meet you before the tournament. See if the rumors were true."

"Which rumors?"

"That you can see the pattern. That you know about the cycles. That you’re aware of what’s really happening." Her voice dropped. "That you’re not just playing the role assigned to you."

Every nerve in my body went on alert. The shadow around me trembled. And my eyes went flat. "Are you from the League or the Council?"

She smiled thinly at my display of power. "Relax. The world is big and old. Do you really think the secret of the world would only be known by a selected few?

"And I only hear rumors."

I did not relax. "That’s a lot of assumptions based on rumors."

"Is it?" She smiled slightly.

Before I could respond, she turned and melted into the crowd.

Damian’s hand was on his concealed blade. "Young Master, she knows too much."

"She’s fishing. Seeing how much we reveal." But my mind was racing. How many people knew about the cycles? How many were watching me?

And which side were they on?

Indeed, the world was much troublesome than it let on.

☆☆▪︎▪︎☆☆

The first matches began the next evening.

The underground arena was packed. Easily three hundred students crammed into the stone seats, cheering and placing bets. The magical lights had been enhanced, making the fighting pit bright as day while keeping the audience in relative shadow.

I sat in the competitor section with some of my faction members watching the early matches and learning tendencies, while analyzing styles.

Match One: Fire Mage vs. Wind Specialist!

The fight started soon.

The fire mage was aggressive, throwing massive flame bursts while the wind specialist was mobile, dodging and counter-attacking. It ended when the wind specialist created a vacuum around the fire mage’s head. Suffocation victory in thirty seconds.

It was efficient and brutal. I loved it.

Match Two: Swordsman vs. Dual-Wielder!

Pure weapon combat with bo magic, Just the dance of steel and skill. They danced around each other for five minutes, both bleeding from a dozen cuts, before the swordsman disarmed the dual-wielder with a clever bind-and-twist.

The crowd went wild.

I love that too. Even those without magic can reach high just with training in pure martial arts.

Match Three: Seraphina vs. Some Poor Bastard.....

...I couldn’t help but add that in my mind but truly. Wasn’t he?

It wasn’t even close. Seraphina walked into the ring radiating power like a storm. Her opponent was an A-rank earth mage that tried to create defensive walls.

She cut through them like paper.

One clash. One holy-enhanced sword strike. The mage’s defensive spell shattered, and he hit the wall hard enough to crack stone.

"Winner: Seraphina Valorheart!"

She didn’t even look winded.

"I like her," Lucille murmured. "Efficient."

"She’s terrifying," Marcus corrected.

"Same thing."

Match Four through Six: Various Competent Fighters

All good and all dangerous in their own ways. But none of them had the presence of that armored woman I’d seen registering, or the hooded figure with the living shadow.

Those fights would come later. When the weak were winnowed out.

I just need to relax.