Kael walked into the circle like a storm given legs.
Not reckless.
Not laughing.
Focused.
The kind of focused that made even fourth-years lean forward slightly.
Across from him, Silas Korr spun his spear in a lazy arc, the blade cutting a silver crescent through the air. He was taller than Kael, heavier, with shoulders like carved stone and the calm arrogance of someone who had beaten dozens like Kael before.
Silas smirked. "I hope you fight better than you talk, Drakov."
Kael tilted his head. "And I hope you bleed prettier than you look."
A ripple of shock ran across the terraces.
Eira's expression didn't change, but her fingers twitched once—annoyance or amusement, no one could tell.
The bell rang.
Silas lunged.
His spear cut through the air with vicious precision.
Kael didn't dodge.
He stepped into the attack.
The second-years gasped. Silas's eyes widened for a fraction of a breath—too late. Kael grabbed the spear shaft just below the blade and twisted downward with brutal force.
Sand exploded under their boots.
Silas snarled and pulled back, but Kael held on, dragging the spear lower, disrupting the angle. Silas shifted his weight and aimed a knee toward Kael's ribs—
Kael ducked and slammed his forehead into Silas's nose.
A sickening crunch followed.
The crowd roared—half in disgust, half in awe.
Silas staggered back, blood pouring down his face. He spit crimson into the sand and let out a furious sound.
"You bastard—!"
Kael rolled his shoulders. "There it is. Now fight me properly."
Silas charged.
Fast.
Faster than most expected from someone his size.
His spear flicked in sharp, controlled jabs—aiming for Kael's throat, Kael's shoulder, Kael's knee. Kael deflected with his forearm, the blade's edge slicing shallow lines across his skin. Pain flashed—but Kael's grin only widened.
He feinted left.
Silas followed—
Kael dropped to one knee, slid across the sand, and swept Silas's legs out from under him.
The second-year crashed hard, sand coughing up around him. His spear clattered but stayed in his grip by instinct more than intent.
Kael landed on top of him, knees pinning Silas's arms, one hand gripping the spear, the other lifting his own blade.
Silas choked out, breath ragged, "Yield? Me? To YOU?"
Kael leaned down, voice low enough that only Silas—and Serene—heard:
"You broke Orrin's ribs yesterday."
Silas stiffened.
Kael's voice dropped colder.
"You don't get to walk away unmarked."
He slammed the spear from Silas's grasp and tossed it far across the sand.
The bell rang.
Eira raised her hand. "First-year victory."
The arena erupted.
A wave of shock.
A wave of fury.
A wave of disbelief.
Kael stood, wiping the blood from his brow, and turned to the stands.
He didn't bow.
He didn't grin.
He only lifted a single finger to his lips—quiet, deliberate silence.
A taunt and a warning.
Rowen's eyes narrowed with interest.
Alden whispered, "That was… brilliant."
Lira whispered, "Reckless."
Taren screamed, "KAEL! YOU ABSOLUTE DEMON!"
Serene didn't smile.
But the smallest shift in her posture carried approval.
Two wins now.
Enough to breathe, if only shallowly.
But the second-years weren't flustered.
They weren't even shaken.
Their captain stepped forward, expression wiped into something like cold calculation. Kael's victory had stung them—but it was not enough to break their confidence.
The next names were called.
Second-Year Bronn Halvek
versus
First-Year Alden Rook
Alden inhaled once, slow and deep.
Serene placed a hand on his arm. "Angled footing. Don't meet his weight head-on."
He nodded once—calm, steady—and walked into the ring.
The duel began.
Bronn moved like a bull—straightforward, crushing blows thrown without elegance but with terrifying power. Alden dodged the first two, deflecting the third with the shaft of his spear. The fourth nearly snapped his guard.
The fifth connected.
Alden stumbled, boots sliding in the sand.
Lira gasped softly. Taren's hands flew to his mouth. Kael leaned forward, jaw tight.
Serene's eyes narrowed.
She recognized the shift.
Bronn wasn't just stronger.
He was reading Alden.
Adjusting to him.
Slowly cutting off escape routes.
Alden recovered his footing, spun his spear, and aimed a clean strike to Bronn's ribs. But Bronn caught the shaft barehanded, twisted it, and ripped it from Alden's grip.
The bell rang.
"Second-year victory."
Alden exhaled shakily, but he walked back with his head high. Serene nodded once—respect, not consolation.
Two wins.
Five losses.
The air thickened.
Next duel.
Second-Year Mairen Fol
versus
First-Year Lysa Varrow
Lysa was quick with a dagger but inexperienced. Mairen overwhelmed her in less than twenty seconds.
Next.
Second-Year Cassin Jerou
versus
First-Year Orrin Vale
Orrin tried.
He truly tried.
But he wasn't healed from Phase Two yet.
He lasted twelve seconds.
Serene's jaw tightened.
Seven losses.
Two wins.
The Rite was slipping.
The crowd murmured—excited, expectant. Second-years smirked openly now. Even upper-year instructors had begun whispering names—predicting which duel would end the Rite entirely.
Then Eira lifted the next strip of parchment.
Her voice was steady.
"Next duel: Second-Year Senya Thorn versus First-Year Serene Valehart."
The arena fell into a silence so sharp it rang.
Lira gasped. "Serene—your ribs—"
Kael whispered, "They picked her now."
Alden murmured, "They're trying to finish it."
Taren squeaked, "Serene—don't go—"
But Serene was already stepping forward.
Rowen's voice reached her back—calm, low, steady.
"Valehart."
She paused.
Rowen continued, "You know your injury. Do not overextend. Do not take frontal hits. And—"
She turned slightly.
"—do not forget who you are."
Serene nodded once.
She walked to the center of the arena.
Senya Thorn, a second-year known for speed and precision, flipped her short blades with a smirk. "I'll end this quickly. For everyone's sake."
Serene didn't answer.
She simply lowered into stance—
The stance her mother taught her.
The stance diplomats used in silent negotiations.
The stance that said:
I see you.
I read you.
I will outthink you.
The entire arena leaned forward.
Serene's duel was beginning.
And everything depended on her.