The commentator’s voice boomed through the arena speakers, filled with excitement and energy.

  “Welcome, dear viewers, from the commentator’s booth! Today we will be witnessing another excellent match! Lyrien Vandemire will be facing Arlen Keel. Both of them are first-year students at the academy. Another thing they have in common is that in the previous round they both won particularly strong and intense matches, which were fought to the very limit—and both of them defeated second-year academy students. An interesting point to note is that Lyrien’s elemental ability is Water, while Arlen’s is Fire. But I won’t drag this on any longer, because the bell has just sounded and the match begins!”

  As the crowd roared in anticipation, the two opponents stepped forward to the center of the arena.

  Lyrien smiled softly. “Good luck, Arlen! Let’s make this a memorable match for both of us!”

  “You give it your all too, Lyrien!” Arlen replied — and in the same instant, he opened the fight with a blazing fireball that streaked toward her like a meteor.

  But Lyrien was ready. A swirl of shimmering blue light rose around her as she lifted her hand, and the flames met a wall of water that hissed into steam.

  Before the vapor had even cleared, Arlen vanished from sight.

  Where—? Lyrien barely had time to turn before a blast of fire struck from behind. She dove aside, but the explosion’s shockwave still caught her, throwing her to the ground.

  She coughed, smoke curling around her — yet she forced herself back to her feet.

  “A brilliant attack from Arlen! Clearly he is moving faster than his opponent. Well, ‘clearly’ might be the wrong word, because with the naked eye you can barely see him at all — he’s that fast!” the commentator’s voice echoed through the arena.

  Arlen didn’t stop there. Another fireball tore through the air — Lyrien blocked it again with her water ability, but this time, the attack was nothing but a diversion.

  Before Lyrien could react, Arlen was already there — closing the distance in a flash and striking at close range. Lyrien raised a watery shield, countered, parried — but Arlen’s speed was overwhelming. She couldn’t keep up.

  Then, in a burst of movement, Arlen gathered both hands together, flames coiling around them like living serpents.

  The fire expanded, merging into a single, blinding orb — and he hurled it forward.

  The explosion shook the entire arena. A massive scorch mark spread across the ground, and Lyrien was thrown back, crashing hard into the far wall.

  “Incredible! You just witnessed Arlen’s astonishingly powerful attack! It was crucial that Arlen wore down his opponent in close combat beforehand!” the commentator exclaimed.

  Smoke and heat filled the air.

  “Too fast… too fast! Lyrien thought, struggling to push herself up. Is the difference between us really this big? I just can’t keep up with him!”

  From the stands, Toma and Arvian watched the match unfold, completely absorbed.

  “Just as I said, this match is going exactly the way I predicted! Arlen is way faster!” Arvian said, eyes fixed on the arena below.

  “Lyrien is only defending,” Toma replied. “She should make better use of the fact that his ability is water-type.”

  Arvian crossed his arms. “It’s not the abilities deciding this match. It’s because Arlen has taken part in a real mission before. He has actual combat experience and was trained by a professional. This is how much it matters whether someone has been on a mission or not.”

  Toma said nothing more — he knew Arvian was right.

  Down in the arena, the battle raged on. Lyrien had barely managed to stand when Arlen was already on the move again — but this time, his attack came from above.

  “Look at this, everyone!” the commentator shouted, his voice trembling with excitement. “Arlen is only a first-year, yet he moves through the air like a professional warrior! His attack power is unbelievable!”

  Flames flared around Arlen as he shouted, “I’m sorry, Lyrien, but I have to attack fast from the start and finish this before you can take advantage of your water ability!”

  He dove down from the air, both hands blazing, and hurled a massive fireball the moment he hit striking range.

  The explosion that followed rocked the arena. Even the spectators in the stands felt the impact — the air trembled, and the heat washed over them like a wave.

  A violent collision between fire and water erupted, sending a surge of steam billowing outward. Within seconds, the entire arena was hidden behind a dense, swirling mist.

  “Incredible!!! Is that it? Could this be the finishing blow?” the commentator cried. “To be honest, the arena is so full of steam right now that I can’t even see what happened to Lyrien!”

  The tension in the air was electric. The audience leaned forward, holding their breath as the fog began to clear. Slowly, a faint blue shimmer appeared — and then, through the fading mist, Lyrien became visible.

  She was standing. Around her, a half-spherical wall of water glowed faintly, still rippling from the force of the blast.

  “Everyone, look at that!” the commentator shouted. “Lyrien managed to defend against Arlen’s finishing blow!”

  For a moment, the entire crowd fell silent. Then gasps spread through the stands — no one had believed Lyrien could withstand an attack like that.

  The steam swirling across the arena began to thin, and Toma leaned forward in the stands, eyes sharp with realization. “Ah, so that’s what caused it,” he murmured, watching intently. Lyrien had formed a vast barrier of water around herself, a shimmering dome that still rippled faintly in the air. “Clever move,” he added under his breath.

  Beside him, Arvian nodded, arms crossed. “Finally. She’s starting to use the versatility of water properly.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Toma’s grin widened as excitement sparked in his eyes. “Then things are about to get interesting.”

  Down in the arena, Arlen’s frustration was visible in every tense motion. “Damn it! I have to keep attacking!” he roared, surging forward in a blur of movement, trying once more to close the distance. But this time, Lyrien didn’t allow it. A sudden surge of water blasted from her palm, forcing him back with the raw pressure of the current.

  Arlen barely recovered his footing before launching another counter—flames erupted from his hand in two rapid bursts. The first shot streaked past its mark, but the second struck true, slamming into Lyrien’s left shoulder. She stumbled back, smoke curling from the scorched fabric of her uniform. For a moment, the crowd held its breath. Then, defying all expectation, she rose again without even flinching, her expression steady, the pain ignored.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Lyrien extended both arms. Twin jets of water burst forth, intertwining midair before colliding and expanding outward in a crashing wave. Arlen tried to shield himself, but the force hit him broadside and swept him clean off his feet.

  The stands erupted in noise.

  “Lyrien has performed a double water release! Arlen is down!” the commentator’s voice thundered through the speakers. “This is unbelievable!”

  Arlen’s body hit the ground hard, his fingers digging into the dirt as steam hissed around his hands. Water dripped from his uniform, the fabric clinging cold and heavy against his skin. He exhaled sharply, then lifted his head—grinning.

  “That was good,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “But now it’s my turn.”

  He thrust both hands forward, unleashing twin streams of fire that roared toward Lyrien like twin dragons. She countered instantly, her water surging out to meet them—but this time she didn’t remain stationary. Sprinting sideways, she kept her attack flowing, advancing through the haze of steam and fire.

  The collision between flame and water sent a rolling cloud of thick smoke spiraling across the field, swallowing both fighters from view. The commentator’s voice echoed faintly through the murk: “The visibility is terrible! The audience can barely see a thing—but listen closely, you can hear them clashing through the smoke!”

  A dark blur burst from the fog—Lyrien. Arlen’s reflexes flared, fire blazing from his palm, but she dropped low, sliding along the ground. Her hand swept outward, sending a low arc of water across the sand that struck Arlen’s legs and knocked him off balance. He hit the ground hard—but even as he fell, he retaliated, blasting a burst of flame backward that seared across Lyrien’s arm.

  Both of them staggered away, panting. The crowd gasped, their voices rising in a chaotic wave of awe and disbelief.

  “This is no longer just a match,” the commentator’s voice came again, lower now, almost reverent. “This has become a test of pure willpower and endurance.”

  The fire’s too fast… I need to wait. Wait for the perfect moment, Lyrien thought, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

  Across from her, Arlen steadied his stance, eyes locked on hers. For a long, breathless instant, neither moved. Even the air itself seemed to still.

  “And now…” the commentator whispered, “neither of them dares to make the first move. This kind of silence… is the most dangerous.”

  Then Arlen lunged. Lyrien reacted the same instant. Two forces burst into existence—red and blue—crashing together in the center of the arena. The explosion wasn’t sharp or loud but deep, resonant, like the heartbeat of the earth itself. A shockwave rippled outward, flinging sand in all directions and hurling both fighters backward in a blinding wave of power.

  Lyrien collapsed to her knees, her breath ragged and shallow, while Arlen swayed on his feet, struggling to remain upright. Their gazes locked through the swirling curtain of dust that hung heavy in the air.

  From above, the commentator’s voice thundered through the roaring arena. “Arlen—the boy of flame—is still on his feet!” The crowd exploded with cheers, the noise shaking the very walls. “But Lyrien isn’t giving up! The water is flowing again!”

  And indeed, through sheer willpower, Lyrien lifted her trembling arm once more. The movement was slower now, less precise—but it was steady. A surge of water burst from her palm, cutting through the haze and streaking straight toward Arlen’s chest.

  The boy twisted at the last instant, deflecting with a sweeping motion of his hand. A jet of fire erupted in response, colliding head-on with Lyrien’s water stream. The clash sent a deafening hiss through the air as heat and moisture fused, wrapping the arena in a suffocating cloud of steam.

  The spectators rose to their feet, shouting, their voices splitting into two chaotic choruses—some chanting Arlen’s name, others screaming for Lyrien.

  The tempo of the fight shifted. Gone was the furious speed from before. What remained now was a battle of endurance. Arlen’s flames flickered weakly at times; Lyrien’s streams of water thinned to mere threads—but neither retreated. Every movement carried the same fierce determination: we will not stop here.

  Then Arlen moved first. He lunged forward, flames bursting from his palms at near-point-blank range. Lyrien stumbled backward, but not fast enough. Fire licked across her arm, scorching the fabric, smoke curling up from the burn. Pain tore through her chest, but she didn’t hesitate. Instinct took over. She lashed out with a blast of water that splashed across Arlen’s face.

  He staggered back, blinded, his boots slipping in the wet sand as he fought to regain balance.

  “This is madness!” the commentator cried, his voice raw with disbelief. “They’re both at their absolute limits!”

  Steam choked the arena. The ground beneath them had turned to sludge. Every breath was labored, every step heavy. Lyrien and Arlen faced each other again, hands trembling, their bodies drenched and battered.

  They stepped forward at the same moment. Only a meter separated them. The air itself seemed to vibrate between them, pulsing with heat and tension.

  Arlen’s eyes narrowed. “You’re holding up well.”

  Lyrien met his gaze, sweat and water dripping from her chin. “You’re not doing so bad yourself.”

  No more words were needed. They moved at once.

  Fire and water erupted together—one blinding flash of red and blue meeting at the center of the arena. The explosion shook the ground like an earthquake, light consuming everything for an instant. The noise was immense, then suddenly gone.

  Silence fell.

  Dust drifted slowly back to the ground. The crowd leaned forward in breathless anticipation as two shapes became visible through the haze—both lying on the ground, motionless.

  Then, faintly, Arlen stirred. His arm twitched, pushing against the scorched sand. A moment later, Lyrien moved too, gasping softly, her face pale but alive.

  The audience didn’t dare to breathe.

  At last, the commentator’s voice returned—quiet now, almost reverent. “...And they’re still standing. Nothing has been decided yet.”

  “I only have one chance left… I need to use the fact that I can attack from the sky too!” Arlen’s voice rang with determination as he launched himself upward, fire bursting beneath his feet. In an instant, he soared high above the arena, his silhouette cutting across the blinding lights. Then, gathering every last bit of strength he had, he thrust both hands downward and unleashed a massive fireball.

  The blazing sphere roared through the air, crashing toward Lyrien like a falling sun.

  But she was ready. Lyrien raised her arms, summoning once again the shimmering barrier of water that coiled around her like a living shield. The fiery blast met the wall of water with a thunderous hiss, and a wave of white steam exploded outward, swallowing the arena whole.

  Visibility dropped to almost nothing. The crowd leaned forward, squinting through the mist.

  That was exactly what Arlen had planned.

  From high above, hidden by the veil of steam, he dove straight down like a flaming comet—his body streaking with fire, the air screaming around him. He crashed into Lyrien’s position with such force that the impact shook the arena floor. The water barrier shattered under the pressure, bursting outward in a violent spray.

  But in that split second, Lyrien moved.

  At the very last moment, she stepped aside, slipping out of the collapsing sphere—leaving Arlen to crash directly into the trap himself. Before he could react, the water reformed behind him, sealing shut.

  Arlen found himself completely submerged inside the half-spherical dome of water. He struggled, eyes wide, bubbles escaping his mouth as he realized—he couldn’t move. Worse, he couldn’t summon his flames at all. His power meant nothing here, smothered by the very element that opposed it.

  “Referee!” Lyrien called out, her voice cutting through the mist. “I’ve captured my opponent! Please begin the countdown!”

  From near the entrance gate, the referee—who had been watching the dangerous exchange from a safe distance—immediately sprang into motion, rushing toward the arena center. “At once, miss!” he answered, raising his arm to begin the official count.

  The commentator nearly shouted over himself, his excitement spilling out in disbelief. “This is incredible! Lyrien has trapped Arlen?! The referee is starting the count right now! What will happen next—can Arlen break free, or is this the end of the match?!”