The sun was dipping lower, casting long, blood-red shadows across the colosseum floor. The air, previously thick with the output of thousands of spells, now held a different kind of tension. The aptitude tests were academic; they were safe. This was combat. This was where blood was spilled and dreams died with a single misstep.
The Proctor's voice, amplified by magic, boomed off the stone walls. "The final examination is simple. One-on-one combat. Incapacitate your opponent or force them to surrender. Killing is forbidden, but injuries are expected. Healers are on standby. Begin!"
The first match was swiftly announced. Two unremarkable commoners took the field. One, a sturdy boy with Earth Magic, erected a Stone Wall and hid behind it. The other, a nervous girl with Water Magic, threw weak Water Bullets that splashed harmlessly against the barrier. The fight dragged on for ten agonizing minutes of stalemate before the earth mage finally flanked her and knocked her down with a clumsy Rock Fist. The crowd barely murmured. It was sloppy, desperate, and utterly uninspiring.
Lencar watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed within his cloak. He was cataloging every spell, every mistake in mana regulation. Observation: Most candidates exhaust 30% of their mana just in panic before the first spell is cast. Inefficient.
"Next match!" the Proctor shouted, consulting the floating magical display. "Candidate 165, Asta! Versus Candidate 77, Sekke Bronzazza!"
A cheer went up, mostly from the noble section, anticipating a swift beatdown of the magicless freak who had embarrassed himself during the flying test.
Asta marched to the center of the arena, vibrating with nervous energy. Opposite him walked a tall, lanky young man with slicked-back hair and a smile that didn't reach his calculating eyes.
Sekke Bronzazza. Lencar had observed him earlier, sidling up to Asta during the aptitude tests, offering fake encouragement while subtly undermining his confidence. It was a classic predator tactic: befriend the weakest member of the herd before culling them.
"Hey, Asta, buddy!" Sekke called out, waving jauntily. "Looks like we're up against each other. What rotten luck, huh? Let's try to have a good clean match, yeah?"
"Yeah! Let's give it our all, Sekke!" Asta yelled back, completely oblivious to the venom hidden in Sekke's tone.
"Right, our all..." Sekke chuckled darkly as his grimoire flipped open. A greenish-brown metallic mana began to swirl around him. "Sorry about this, buddy. But I need to make a statement here. I'm aiming for the Golden Dawn, you see. And the best way to look good is to crush something pathetic."
Bronze Creation Magic: Sekke's Magnum Cannonball!
The mana coalesced into a swirling, translucent sphere of hardened bronze that encased Sekke completely. It spun rapidly, generating a repulsive force that kicked up dust and debris.
Sekke's voice echoed hollowly from inside the sphere. "Bah-ha! Get a load of this defense! It's impenetrable! A magicless loser like you couldn't scratch this if you had a hundred years! You should have just stayed in the boonies digging potatoes, you filthy peasant!"
The crowd laughed cruelly. A noble yelled, "Squash the bug, Bronzazza!"
Lencar analyzed the spell. Observation: A defensive shell that also acts as an offensive ram. Clever. The mana density is high. A standard elemental attack of Stage Eight would bounce right off.
Asta stood his ground, the laughter of the arena washing over him. His fists clenched at his sides. He remembered the years of training in the woods. He remembered the taste of moguro leaf juice. He remembered the promise he made to Yuno under the falling snow.
"I'm not done yet..." Asta growled, his voice low.
"What was that? I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am!" Sekke spun faster, preparing to charge. "Just lie down and—"
"I SAID I'M NOT DONE YET!" Asta roared.
A five-leaf grimoire slammed open in front of him. A rusted, chipped greatsword, heavy with anti-magic, shot out of the pages and into Asta's grip. The sheer weight of it cracked the flagstone beneath his feet.
Sekke paused, confused by the strange, dark energy. "What is that piece of junk? You gonna try and sell me scrap metal? BAH-HA!"
Sekke charged. The bronze sphere rocketed toward Asta like a cannonball, intending to shatter his ribs.
Asta didn't brace for impact. He lunged forward.
The movement was explosive. Without mana to weigh him down or complicate his movements, Asta moved with the raw, terrifying speed of a human catapult. He met the charge head-on.
"HRAAAAAAAAGH!"
Asta swung the giant sword fiercely. The rusty blade connected with the spinning bronze sphere.
There was no clash of magic. There was only the sound of a spell dying screaming.
SHREEEONG!
The anti-magic property of the sword didn't just cut the bronze; it erased the mana sustaining it. The "impenetrable" defense dissolved instantly into motes of light.
Sekke's eyes widened in pure terror as his protection vanished. Asta's blade carried through, the flat side of the massive weapon slamming into Sekke's chest with the force of a falling anvil.
Sekke went airborne. He flew across the arena, skipping off the ground once like a flat stone on water, before crashing into the perimeter wall and slumping over, totally unconscious.
Asta stood panting, the giant sword resting on his shoulder, framed by the setting sun. The entire colosseum was plunged into a stunned silence.
Up on the balcony, the reactions were immediate.
Nozel Silva scoffed, adjusting his braid. "A fluke. Bronzazza got overconfident and dropped his guard against a brute physical attack. It proves nothing other than commoners lack discipline."
Fuegoleon Vermillion frowned thoughtfully. "No... that sword. It cut through the spell itself. It wasn't just physical force. But I sense no mana from the boy or the weapon."
Charlotte Roselei nodded slowly. "To counter magic without magic... it is unorthodox. But effective."
Yami Sukehiro, who had been dozing through the first match, opened one eye. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face as he looked down at the loud shrimp who had just defied the fundamental laws of their world.
"Heh," Yami exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Interesting."