The warrior division had lost unwillingly. Without Aegis, their top three fighters had been swept aside by a single opponent from Austin Academy. No one could accept that.
Thunder had seen Aegis fight before. Though he wasn't sure of her exact strength, he'd heard plenty of praise from the academy's instructors.
*A once-in-decades genius.* If she'd been here, Austin wouldn't have dared act so arrogantly.
Since he'd already won one honor for Faelor Magic and Martial Academy, why not go for another?
*Fortune favors the bold.* And Thunder had absolute confidence in his Celestial Fox Steps.
Austin's warriors erupted when Thunder, a mere mage, dared challenge them on the arena.
Their mage division's defeat had already humiliated them. Now, with Thunder's blatant provocation, the warriors' taunts and jeers flooded the air. Many demanded to fight.
Everyone knew mages were ranged fighters, while warriors were frontline combatants. At higher levels, a mage might defeat a warrior of equal rank—but never in the early stages!
Before intermediate rank, mages lacked both self-defense and firepower. Once a warrior closed the distance, the outcome was inevitable.
And this wasn't an open battlefield—it was a confined arena, further crippling the mage's mobility.
Hearing Thunder's challenge, many students tried to dissuade him. Even Laurent glared in fury.
They'd finally reclaimed Faelor's honor. Laurent could now boast of this victory in his circles. As for the warrior division's loss? *Aegis wasn't here—what could we do?*
The headmaster couldn't risk another upset. If Thunder lost now, it wouldn't just be about pride.
But the words were already out, and Thunder ignored Laurent's silent protests.
Austin's warriors' furious insults enraged Faelor's students, sparking a heated—and pointless—war of words.
The middle-aged man had returned to the stands. Glancing at the catatonic Andy, then at his empty hands, rage boiled within him.
*Want to challenge warriors?* His eyes locked onto Thunder, now strutting across the stage with *Zephyr* in hand.
*"Thunder, have you lost your mind?!"* Laurent stormed over, cursing. He nearly throttled the younger man.
*"Trust me, Headmaster. I've got this."*
*"And if you lose? Warrior combat isn't as 'gentle' as mage duels. Have you even fought one before?"*
*"There's a first time for everything."* Thunder grinned. *"Headmaster, don't you want to see Austin utterly defeated? Don't you want to crush the so-called 'top-ranked' second-tier academy? Think about it—if I win, what fame would that bring Faelor? 'Some nobody from Faelor crushed Austin Academy!' With that reputation, students would flock here. Charge nobles 10,000 gold a year—they'd pay it! Ten students? 100,000 gold. A hundred? Headmaster, you'd be rich! We'll split it fifty-fifty—easy money!"*
His words were intoxicating. Laurent practically drooled.
*Yes… with Faelor's reputation soaring, life would be sweet indeed.*
*"Headmaster, go negotiate with them. I'll wait here."* Thunder concluded.
Lost in fantasy, Laurent pondered. Thunder was right—if a mage lost to a warrior at this stage, it was understandable. But if he won…
*"I'll talk to them. No guarantee they'll agree."* With that, Laurent cast *Levitate* and floated off dramatically.
*"They'll agree."* Thunder murmured, smirking.
As predicted, the middle-aged man accepted immediately.
*Where you fall, you rise.* The mage division's loss could be blamed on micro-control. But in melee combat? Early-stage mages stood no chance against raw strength and combat aura.
*"Alva, you're up."* The man addressed a cold-eyed youth watching Thunder with disdain.
*"Is this necessary?"* Alva's gaze dismissed Thunder as a clown. Fighting him would be beneath his dignity.
*"If you crush him, which would impress more—one move or three?"* The man whispered.
*"Understood."* Alva rose, drawing the sword resting across his lap. His steps were measured, his eyes sharp as a hawk's.
*"Don't kill him. That'd be messy."* The man added.
Alva nodded.
Like Andy, Alva was among Austin's elite—but where Andy was immature, Alva exuded cold precision.
*"Headmaster Laurent,"* the man taunted, *"perhaps warn your student to surrender if things go south. Without a magic shield, combat aura could shred him."*
*"No need. He wasn't even serious earlier."* Laurent threw the man's own words back at him.
Alva moved with lethal calm, ascending the stage. His sword hung loosely at his side, a smirk playing on his lips.
Thunder studied him. The two locked eyes, tension thickening the air.
*"Brother Thunder's gone mad!"* Sisi clutched Maria's sleeve, her heart pounding. *"Professor, stop him! What if he gets hurt?"*
*"He won't listen."* Maria sighed.
*"But you're… *that* close. Would he really ignore you?"*
*"Once he decides something, nothing sways him. And now? Forcing him to back down would wound his pride."*
A man's pride and face mattered more than life. Sisi might not understand, but Maria did.
*"We're no experts—no need for dramatic stares."* Thunder broke the silence.
True masters clashed with aura first. But Thunder was an apprentice, Alva a peak junior warrior. Their 'clash' was purely visual.
*"Alva."* The warrior raised his sword, its metallic *shing* underscoring his icy demeanor. A born killer.
*"Thunder."* Thunder waved *Zephyr* awkwardly.
*"Hey, instructor!"* He cupped his hands and shouted at the middle-aged man. *"No problem using a weapon for self-defense, right?"*
The man sneered and nodded.
This lightning apprentice couldn't possibly harness *Zephyr's* power. It'd only hinder him.
*He'd be better off with a dagger.*
*"All set."* Thunder nodded at Alva. *"Begin."*
This time, Thunder struck first, darting forward with Celestial Fox Steps. The move shocked his supporters.
*Why close the distance instead of preparing spells?!*
Alva smirked, thrusting his sword precisely into Thunder's path.
But Thunder didn't dodge. Instead, he swung *Zephyr*, deflecting the blade, and barreled into Alva.
*He's using my staff as a club?!* The middle-aged man trembled. *Doesn't he know *Zephyr* is worth millions?!*
The deflection left Alva wide open. Thunder slammed his shoulder into the warrior's chest while hooking a foot behind his ankle.
Alva hadn't expected such brute strength from a mage. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late.
*A violent mage?!*
His ankle burned, his leg numb. Before he could react, Thunder's impact sent him flying.
*Impossible!*
Alva barely landed at the stage's edge, his sword stabbing down to prevent a fall.
*"What just happened?"* Sisi blinked, bewildered.
*"Brother Thunder… *tackled* that warrior?"* Eric's voice was hoarse with disbelief.
*"Are you sure he didn't blast him with magic?"*
*"Positive. My eyes don't lie—it was a tackle."*
*"So close!"* Thunder sighed as Alva steadied his trembling leg.
Having never fought a warrior, Thunder had gambled on ending it instantly. But Alva's combat aura mastery surprised him.
Alva's gaze turned serious. Whatever Thunder had done, his leg still tingled.
*This violent mage is dangerous.* Clearly, his fight with Andy hadn't shown his full capabilities.
Channeling combat aura, Alva dispelled the numbness. No more holding back.
*End this fast.* Junior warriors' aura reserves were limited. Alva aimed to finish Thunder in ten moves.
He charged, each step deliberate. Thunder, having failed his initial strike, began casting.
A paralyzing lightning net blocked Alva's advance, followed by a Palming Thunder.
Warriors' physiques far surpassed mages'. Even at close range, Alva twisted mid-sprint, avoiding the net's center. Though grazed, his aura minimized the impairment.
Thunder's relentless Palming Thunder barrage forced Alva to weave, but one finally struck.
Combat aura—a warrior's lifeline—could negate magic damage, mitigate physical attacks, and enhance offense.
At higher levels, aura projection allowed warriors to rival ranged fighters.
Though Thunder's spells couldn't yet penetrate Alva's aura, they slowed him, draining his reserves. Thunder kited expertly, leading Alva in circles.
Alva remained expressionless, patiently seeking openings. His earlier stumble had been a fluke. Now, with aura unleashed, he'd crush Thunder at close range.
The middle-aged man paled. Thunder hadn't gone all out against Andy.
Back then, his spellcasting seemed intense—but nothing like this. No pauses, no chants. Just endless Palming Thunder.
*What's wrong with him?! Even a junior mage should've exhausted his mana by now!*
He shot Laurent a suspicious glare. *Did this old fox sneak in an intermediate mage to scam me?*
**Will Thunder's relentless assault prevail—or will Alva's combat aura turn the tide?**