The academy arena buzzed with energy, as students, teachers, and spectators filed back into their seats for the second day of the tournament trials. The highlight of the day: the number-one ranked match from the previous day.
On one side of the arena stood Viktor Ironheart, the towering behemoth wielding his colossal warhammer. A favorite among the crowd, Viktor's brutal fighting style had made short work of his first opponent, leaving the arena in awe of his raw power.
Opposite him was Fyn, the unassuming slingshot user whose clever tactics had surprised everyone during his first match. Small, wiry, and without the flashy background of noble blood, Fyn was widely considered an underdog.
As the two opponents stepped into the arena, the crowd's noise swelled. Viktor twirled his warhammer effortlessly, its sheer weight evident in the way it cracked the ground with even the slightest touch.
"You're brave, I'll give you that," Viktor said, his deep voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. "But you should've stayed in the stands. You don't stand a chance."
Fyn smirked, casually flipping a smooth stone into his slingshot. "Funny, I've been hearing that my whole life. You're no different from any other loudmouth with a big stick."
Viktor raised an eyebrow, amused. "This 'big stick' is going to send you flying, kid."
The moment the headmaster signaled the start of the match, Viktor charged, his warhammer leaving cracks in the stone floor as he closed the distance.
Fyn dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow that sent debris flying. With a quick flick of his wrist, he fired a stone laced with wind magic, aiming for Viktor's exposed shoulder.
The stone struck true, but Viktor barely flinched.
"Nice try," Viktor said, swinging his hammer in a wide arc.
Fyn ducked, the hammer missing him by inches. Using his agility, he darted behind Viktor, launching another stone, this one imbued with lightning.
The bolt hit Viktor's leg, causing him to stagger briefly.
"Fast, aren't you?" Viktor muttered, turning to face his opponent.
"Fast enough," Fyn replied, already repositioning for another attack.
The match quickly became a game of cat and mouse. Viktor's strikes were devastating, each one capable of ending the fight instantly, but Fyn's speed and precision kept him just out of reach.
At one point, Viktor feinted a swing, only to reverse his grip and bring the hammer down in a crushing overhead blow.
Fyn barely managed to dodge, the force of the impact sending him tumbling across the arena floor. He scrambled to his feet, panting but still grinning.
"That all you got?" Fyn taunted, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
"You're starting to annoy me," Viktor growled, his movements becoming faster and more aggressive.
Fyn fired another stone, this one imbued with ice magic. It exploded on contact, freezing Viktor's hammer mid-swing. Seizing the opportunity, Fyn darted in close, aiming a stone at Viktor's exposed chest.
Viktor reacted instantly, shattering the ice and using the momentum to knock Fyn back with the flat of his hammer.
Fyn hit the ground hard, coughing.
"Stay down," Viktor said, looming over him.
"Not a chance," Fyn replied, pulling himself up.
The crowd was on edge as the match reached its climax. Fyn's movements were growing sluggish, his reserves of magic dwindling, while Viktor seemed as unstoppable as ever.
But then, Fyn's eyes narrowed, and a plan began to form.
As Viktor charged again, Fyn fired a series of rapid shots, each one infused with different elements—fire, wind, ice, and lightning. The barrage didn't do much damage, but it created a chaotic storm of magic around Viktor, obscuring his vision.
"What are you up to, you little—" Viktor's words were cut off as Fyn launched his final shot: a stone laced with earth magic that struck the ground beneath Viktor's feet.
The earth buckled, causing Viktor to lose his footing. Fyn seized the moment, rushing forward and delivering a point-blank blast of wind magic that knocked Viktor's hammer from his hands.
Viktor staggered, momentarily disarmed.
With one last surge of energy, Fyn leaped into the air, slingshot drawn, and fired a lightning-infused stone directly at Viktor's chest. The impact sent Viktor sprawling to the ground.
The arena fell silent.
Headmaster Solara raised her hand. "The winner is … Fyn!"
The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, many unable to believe what they had just witnessed.
Fyn stood over Viktor, panting heavily. He extended a hand to his fallen opponent.
"Good fight," Fyn said, grinning.
Viktor hesitated before taking the offered hand. "You got lucky, kid."
"Maybe," Fyn replied, helping him up. "But a win's a win."
As Fyn left the arena, he glanced up at the stands where Rynhara sat. Their eyes met.
"I'm coming for you next, Princess!" Fyn shouted, his voice carrying over the crowd.
Rynhara smirked, leaning back in her seat. "Good luck with that."
Kaelira, sitting beside her, chuckled. "Looks like you've got a new rival."
Rynhara shrugged. "Let him try. He'll learn soon enough."
But deep down, she couldn't ignore the spark of excitement that came with Fyn's challenge. For the first time in a while, she felt truly tested.