When Ibarin spoke, his voice carried perfectly across the arena. He was doing the same thing Raze had done earlier, enhancing his words with wind magic so that every syllable echoed through the air. His voice wrapped around the stadium, pressing into every ear, ensuring that no one missed a word.
The crowd reacted instantly. The Grand Magus wasn't just fighting; he was addressing them directly, turning the duel into a spectacle. To them, it was thrilling, and his words added even more weight to what they were witnessing. He was truly showing his level, how far above he stood, not only over this Wilton student, but over nearly everyone present. The audience could feel it in their bones.
Yet, at the same time, Raze's presence could not be denied. The boy was only a student, at least on paper, but now everyone understood why he had been chosen to represent Wilton. A seven-star mage standing in place of teachers. It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't madness. It was ability.
