Boom—!
Thunder exploded through the duel chamber of Fernandez Magic Academy, and a blinding blue-white glare lit up the entire room.
In the spectator seats, Lionel clenched the charcoal pencil in his hand so tightly that he scarcely dared blink.
In the arena, a fourth-year student in a red academy uniform bent over, gulping for breath. The faint gleam of magic gathered at the tip of his wand flickered several times before finally going out completely—an omen that his mana was nearly exhausted.
Mage duels had always been like this.
If your mana ran dry, it was little different from losing.
But this was not the result of inexperience or reckless spellcasting.
As someone who had entered the path of magic before his opponent, he held an obvious advantage in both total mana and spell reserves.
He did not need to calculate every last drop like a lower-year student. He could calmly use low-tier control spells to compress his opponent's casting space, then dictate the rhythm of the duel with his abundant practical experience.
In fact, half a minute ago, he had still held the upper hand.
At the time, he had first covered the ground beneath his opponent's feet with [Grease Spell], then blown Lidona into it with a gust of wind. While she was down, he began chanting a high-damage fire spell.
Just as he thought victory was in his grasp—the dark-blue gemstone atop his opponent's wand suddenly lit up, instantly casting an unknown spell.
A pool of pitch-black sludge not only interrupted his chant at once, but even forced its way into his mouth and nose.
Thick stagnant water and rotting silt clogged his airways tight, leaving him unable to utter even a single coherent syllable and plunging him straight into the desperate dead end of enforced