Martial Magic Tournament (2)

"Match twenty-seven: Donald Wien, third year of the Magic Academy, versus Aubrey, fourth year of the Magic Academy."

Richard couldn't believe it when he saw his brother walk into the arena. Not until he heard the referee loudly announce the name did he confirm that his brother had also signed up for the competition. But his brother had only been enrolled for a little over a month—how could he compete against a Magic Apprentice who had studied normally for four years?

This wasn't just Richard's doubt. The vast majority of Magic Academy students and teachers wore stunned expressions. Over at the Knight Academy, Roger, Fiona, and Bertram felt the same.

Regardless of how they usually got along with Donald, at this moment, almost everyone shared one thought: Donald had lost control out of impulse. No matter how determined he seemed, the absolute gap in strength would leave this match without any suspense. Even Professor Victor, who had always been confident in Donald, thought the same.

Completely different from the shock, confusion, or pity these people showed, the Gnome sisters were cheering and jumping.

"Finally, we get to see the Great Devil King Donald!"

"The Great Devil King is about to make his move!"

Kelly was still sitting beside the Dwarf, her severed arm reattached and secured with a splint.

"Why do you call him the Great Devil King? Does Donald know magic?" she asked, puzzled.

"Mom said he's a very powerful mage."

"That's right, that's right. Haven't you seen Donald use magic, Kelly?"

"Have you?" Kelly was even more confused.

Kelly had never seen Donald cast magic. The Gnome sisters naturally hadn't either, and neither had Adarua.

Counting it up, among the tens of thousands present, not one had seen Donald cast magic—including Wesley. The sole exception, Lucia, was not here at the moment.

No matter what the audience thought, the match finally began.

Donald and Aubrey stood at opposite ends of the arena, about twenty meters apart—the standard distance for a Magic Apprentice duel.

"You're close with Carl?" Donald didn't make a move. He needed to gauge his opponent's attitude. If Carl could rig Kelly's opponent, he might have arranged one for himself as well.

"You shouldn't have provoked him. You can't afford it." Aubrey's volume was well-controlled, just loud enough for Donald to hear without reaching the stands.

"Good. Then let's see." With that, Donald fell silent, his expression gradually turning cold.

Aubrey slowly approached Donald. Following his steps, Donald retreated step by step, slightly angling himself to avoid being cornered at the arena's edge. When Aubrey stopped, Donald stopped too. The distance between them remained at the opening twenty meters.

Boos began to rise from the audience.

The disdain on Aubrey's face grew more obvious. "Are you going to keep running? If you don't dare to face me, why even step into the ring?"

"I think this distance is just right."

As he spoke, Donald extended both hands, spreading them naturally to his sides. Two small Wind Blades flew out from his open palms, one after the other, crisscrossing as they shot toward Aubrey at incredible speed.

Seeing Donald's Wind Blades, Aubrey was startled at first, then his contemptuous expression deepened. He hadn't expected Donald to have learned to cast magic in such a short time. But these were clearly just the lowest-level ternary Wind Blades—there was no way they could fly this far, let alone harm him.

Just as Aubrey was about to sneer, the two Wind Blades had already streaked across his body, cutting two bloody gashes on his left leg and right arm before continuing onward, vanishing only after flying a great distance.

The booing stopped abruptly. From the Magic Academy stands, a wave of gasps erupted. No one could believe that such small Wind Blades could have such power and fly so far. Compared to the miracle these Wind Blades had achieved, the fact that Donald had already mastered magic seemed almost unimportant.

"Aren't you going to run?" Donald stared coldly at Aubrey, whose two wounds were bleeding profusely.

Humiliated, Aubrey charged forward like a madman. As he muttered an incantation, a massive fireball began to condense in his hands.

Donald thrust his naturally spread hands forward. Suddenly, dozens of identical Wind Blades howled out, forming a dense wall of wind that slammed into Aubrey, exploding together with the unfinished fireball in front of him and blasting him to the ground.

The crowd erupted. The sound of tens of thousands of voices roaring together made blood boil.

Tears of excitement welled up in Richard's and Kelly's eyes as they looked at Donald. Wesley clenched his fist tightly and shouted a cheer.

In the lord's box, Carl's face darkened.

"Victor, this child—you brought him to the academy?" The Dean was finally no longer drowsy.

"Yes. When I brought him to the Magic Academy last October, he had never met a single mage before." Victor was also stunned by Donald's performance.

"The reputation of Tris Magic Academy may well rest on his shoulders." Dean Devis spoke slowly, his words not directed solely at Victor.

"Dean, he's only mastered ternary magic. Though... those ternary Wind Blades are indeed somewhat unusual," Professor Judy said reluctantly.

Dean Devis glanced at Judy, shook his head, and said softly, "Am I the only one who noticed that he never chanted an incantation?"

The professors froze. Habitual thinking had blinded them all to this point.

Everyone knew that Magic Apprentices needed to chant incantations to cast magic—it was a truth written into the textbooks. No one had ever heard of anyone breaking this rule. The Dean's discovery pointed to two possibilities: either Donald had advanced to Formal Magician within half a year, or he was the first Magic Apprentice in the world who didn't need to chant incantations. Either answer was enough to make Tris Magic Academy famous.

As shock churned within Judy, she suddenly remembered how Donald and Lucia had escaped.

Inside the arena, when the referee helped Aubrey up, his entire body was a bloody mess. But fortunately, they were all superficial wounds—with proper treatment, nothing serious.

After all, Kelly's injury hadn't been directly caused by Aubrey, so Donald had deliberately held back. If he had unleashed a full-powered hexary magic from the start, the lethality would have been far greater.

"Match twenty-seven: Donald Wien, third year of the Magic Academy, wins!"

After leaving the arena, Donald made sure to walk over to Richard and give him a few words of advice—to be careful of accidents in the upcoming matches and to give up early if he encountered an opponent too strong.

The competition continued.

Match thirty-two: Carl wins.

Match forty-five: Roger wins.

Match sixty-one: Richard faces Aldrich, a sixth-year student of the Knight Academy.

The referee announced the start of the match, and Richard indeed opted for a conservative tactic.

Having displayed extraordinary power in the lower-grade competition, he now showcased solid footwork and movement, circling around Aldrich, constantly prowling without striking rashly.

Aldrich was in no hurry either. As a top student in the sixth grade of the Knight Academy, he possessed rich combat experience and would never underestimate an opponent, even one who seemed weak.

During their constant maneuvering, their swords clashed several times. Relying on his natural brute strength, Richard didn't suffer too much disadvantage, which gradually made him let his guard down.

Aldrich seemed somewhat wary of Richard's strength, no longer choosing to fight head-on. Instead, he held his sword forward, always pointing it at Richard. Even after Richard knocked his blade aside several times, he stubbornly kept it aimed at Richard.

Annoyed by the constant pointing, Richard pressed his sword against his opponent's blade, pointing back at him.

From the audience, Roger silently cursed under his breath.

Sure enough, Aldrich suddenly lunged forward, his sword twisting and entangling rapidly. A tremendous torque struck, and Richard's hand loosened as his sword was sent flying.

Closing in swiftly, Aldrich seized the moment of Richard's stunned hesitation after losing his sword. His left hand grabbed Richard's shoulder, yanking him forward, and the next instant, his knee slammed viciously into Richard's abdomen.

Only then did Richard realize that his opponent had been hiding his strength all along—but it was too late.

Taking a knee strike to the gut, Richard couldn't help but double over. Aldrich followed up by raising his sword-wielding right hand and driving an elbow down onto Richard's head and neck.

After two heavy blows, Richard collapsed limply to the ground.

The moment Aldrich twisted Richard's sword away, Donald knew something was wrong. But as he watched him land two lethal strikes in succession, he was utterly helpless.

Everything happened too fast. After finishing this, Aldrich even glanced toward the city lord's box, as if intending to continue. Donald's heart raced with panic, and he shouted toward the VIP section: "Adarua!"

From the VIP area, a short, stocky figure shot into the air, landing in the center of the arena with a thunderous crash that shook the entire venue.

When the crowd came to their senses, they saw Aldrich's foot already descending—but between his boot and Richard's helmet was a furry hand.

"Is this a duel, or a murder?" Adarua asked, eyeing Aldrich sideways.

From the city lord's box, an aged voice rang out: "Master Adarua, it seems you've overstepped your bounds."

"I think I've merely stopped an accident. Are you telling me what just happened was a political struggle?"

"...You're right. It was just an accident."

Adarua snorted and shoved Aldrich away with a push, though he used little force.

By the time Donald rushed into the arena, Adarua had already taken a small orange vial from his chest, fed it to Richard, and carefully examined his injuries.

"If it weren't for the past half-month of warrior training, he'd be crippled this time."

Donald felt his entire body trembling, barely able to speak.

"It's fine. Leave it to me." Adarua picked up Richard, cast a cold glance at Aldrich, then turned to Donald. "I can't make a move myself. You deal with him properly for me."

"Dammit, I finally took on a few disciples, and now two get beaten down at once," the dwarf muttered as he walked away.

Throughout it all, Kelly, her arm still in a sling, was held back by the gnome twin sisters, whose strength was far greater than it appeared.

Donald's clenched fists dug his nails into his palms until they bled, yet he felt no pain. If not for his sudden whim half a month ago to have Richard train with the dwarf, if not for Adarua's timely intervention... he dared not think further.

Unable to suppress his fury, Donald spun around and hurled a Six Yuan Fireball at Aldrich. The arena referee, a Formal Knight, had already anticipated Donald's sudden attack. Stepping in front of Aldrich, his body blazed with Battle Qi, blocking the fireball.

"What do you think you're doing? This is the Martial Magic Tournament. Do you dare cause trouble here?" The referee, who had blocked Donald's fireball, was still shaken. That fireball had been far more powerful than it looked; even with Battle Qi and armor, his chest still felt scorching hot.

"It's fine. I think he wants to challenge me to a duel. I accept his request," Aldrich said, emboldened by the fact that Adarua hadn't dared to do anything to him.

The referee looked at Donald.

"Yes. I challenge him to a duel. Right now." Donald's black eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Aldrich.