Chapter 45: The Princess and the Prodigy

Elias watched the princess closely, mind racing beneath the roar of the crowd.

How is the casting so fast?

The magic circles were the key. They bypassed the mental steps he still relied on — the visualization, the shaping, the deliberate release. She simply willed the spell into existence and the circle did the rest.

She gave him no time to breathe.

Another fireball formed and launched almost instantly, roaring toward him like a second white-hot comet. The heat of its passage already stung his face. Elias reacted on pure survival instinct, slamming a burst of wind magic into the ground beneath his feet. The compressed gust launched him sideways in a violent, uncontrolled arc. He tumbled across the sand, shoulder slamming hard into the arena floor as the fireball detonated where he had stood a heartbeat earlier. The explosion sent a visible shockwave racing outward, blackening the sand in a wide crater and forcing several students in the lower stands to shield their eyes from the flash and heat.

Princess Seraphina’s smile was sharp and mocking. “Running already, peasant? How pathetic.”

Before he could fully regain his footing, thick green vines erupted from the sand around him with terrifying speed. They coiled around his arms, torso, and legs like living ropes, constricting hard enough to dig into skin and restrict his breathing. The plants were heavily reinforced with her mana; he could feel the foreign energy biting into him.

Elias did not waste time struggling. He flooded his body with fire.

A bright, violent aura of flame erupted around him, white-orange at the core. The vines blackened, withered, and disintegrated in seconds, releasing him in a shower of ash and smoke. The moment he was free he countered, pouring a massive torrent of flame toward her position — a roaring Inferno that flooded a wide section of the arena floor in searing heat and light.

It did nothing.

Seraphina stood calmly inside the heart of the blaze. The white-hot flames parted around her body as though they recognized her and refused to touch her skin. When the Inferno finally died, she stepped forward through the residual smoke, completely unharmed. Her smile had changed. The earlier arrogance was still there, but now it carried a colder, crueller edge.

“You honestly think fire would work on me?” she asked, voice dripping with contempt. “Sorry to burst your bubble. I was born with a natural fire spirit. My flames are white by default, and ordinary fire simply cannot harm me. I am also a university-trained mage. I cast with circles. That alone is already beyond mere visualization. And that is why you will lose, you worthless village rat.”

The crowd roared its approval. Chants of her name rolled down from the upper stands.

She raised both hands.

Multiple glowing circles bloomed in the air around her — five, then seven, then more — rotating at different heights and angles. This was no longer simple remote casting. This was simultaneous multi-circle deployment. Elias’s eyes widened. He slammed both palms toward the ground and raised every layer of defense he could form in the short time available. Thick Earth Fortresses erupted around him in rapid succession — dense, overlapping walls of compacted stone and mana, each one reinforced as heavily as he could manage.

Seraphina watched him work with open amusement, deliberately giving him those few extra seconds out of pure prideful cruelty.

“Go on,” she called. “Hide behind your little rocks. It won’t save you.”

The circles flared in unison.

What followed was not a single spell but a coordinated barrage. White fire, compressed force, and razor-edged blades of pure heat slammed into his fortifications from every direction at once. The first layer of stone vaporized. The second cracked and collapsed. The third held for less than a second before the combined detonation tore it apart. A blinding flash filled the arena. The shockwave that followed was strong enough to rattle the Epic-grade barrier that protected the stands. Without that barrier the entire structure might have been compromised. Students screamed in excitement and alarm. The ground itself trembled.

When the smoke and dust finally began to clear, Elias was still on his feet — but only barely.

His upper clothes had been almost completely destroyed. Angry red burns covered his chest, shoulders, and arms. Blood ran from a dozen small cuts. His breathing came in ragged, painful gasps. The taste of ash and iron filled his mouth. For a moment the arena fell into a stunned hush as the spectators took in the damage.

Then something impossible happened.

The worst of the burns began to close. Torn flesh knitted. Charred skin smoothed. The process was visible, rapid, and completely silent — no chant, no glowing hands, no divine ritual. Voiceless healing.

A collective gasp swept through the stands. Liora’s eyes widened. Selene’s hand flew to her mouth. Even several of the senior mages in the higher seats leaned forward in disbelief. Healing magic of that speed and silence was unheard of. Divine magic was supposed to require long, precise chants and careful focus. What Elias had just done violated every rule they knew.

Elias rolled one burned shoulder, testing the repaired tissue, then lifted his head. Despite the residual pain and the smoke still rising from his skin, his voice came out calm and almost conversational.

“I’m getting hungry,” he said, loud enough to carry. “I hope the palace maids cook well. Let me end things quickly so I can eat.”

For a single heartbeat the arena was silent.

Then Princess Seraphina threw her head back and laughed — a bright, mocking sound that echoed off the marble walls.

“You still think you can win?” she called, eyes gleaming with cruel delight. “How adorable. I’ll enjoy watching you beg for mercy before the end, peasant.”

She raised her hands again. Fresh circles began to form.

Elias settled into a lower stance, mana already coiling around his fingers. The burns still ached. The crowd still roared. The princess still smiled as though the outcome was already decided.

But the fight was far from over.