Tension still lingered among the participants even though the duel had ended. The arena was empty, but the discussions had only just begun.
Michael sat with his arms crossed, staring into the distance. Beside him, Torren spoke quietly.
"Did you see how she pulled that off?" Michael asked, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "It was like she knew every move in advance."
"She did," Torren replied calmly. "While everyone thought both her hands were still burdened, one was already free. She removed the card earlier. Nobody noticed. Not Selene. Not us."
Michael nodded, not arguing.
"Still… even with that knowledge, she had to take a risk. She waited until Selene came close. She charged in—one hand still weighed down."
"Yes, but she didn't just predict," Torren added. "She weaponized it. She knew where Selene would be, and what she'd be holding. She doesn't fight like a typical mage..."
"That's why she wins."
On a nearby bench, Ralph, Rob, and Renald were also deep in discussion. Ralph, as always, spoke calmly, with a note of respect in his voice.
"She turned it all into precision. Even when everyone thought it was over for her, she didn't panic. She just waited."
"I still don't get how she turned things around so fast," Renald admitted. "Selene had the card ready. She could've finished it."
Rob shook his head.
"Maybe she could've. But did you see how quickly Elaira reacted? That hand we thought was immobilized—suddenly moved freely. All in an instant."
"Which means she had already taken the first card off," Ralph confirmed. "And kept it hidden until the perfect moment. Even Selene didn't notice."
Renald fell silent, digesting what he'd just heard. Then quietly murmured,
"So… she had a plan all along?"
"Maybe. Or maybe she just saw the opportunity and seized it."
Meanwhile, at the edge of the stands, the Elder—who had made few appearances and even fewer remarks—sat leaning slightly forward. His eyes gleamed, as if he had understood something fundamental. He didn't speak, didn't clap, didn't comment. But his expression showed a subtle, satisfied half-smile.
He had seen someone using magic in a different way. He had seen that among the participants, there were not only powerful fighters, but strategists. And that could mean only one thing: the tournament was about to become even more interesting.
Selene, breathing heavily, continued to laugh, staring at Elaira with a glint of defiance in her eyes. Even though things were no longer in her favor, she didn't look the least bit concerned.
"We're still on equal footing, Elaira…" she smirked. "Both of us have one arm weighed down. The winner will be the one with the stronger nerves."
She had no idea how wrong she was. Selene truly believed that Elaira still bore the weight card on her left hand—and that their positions were equally risky.
They charged at each other. Not cautiously, like in the early moments of the match—but with desperate, final determination. A blow that would decide everything. A rush from which there would be no return.
Selene was ready to strike. Her left hand held her final hidden card, perfectly timed to end it. Her whole strategy came down to one final move: when Elaira got close enough, she would strike fast and win.
But as she opened her hand, she realized something was wrong.
"...Where…?" she whispered.
Her palm was empty. The sudden absence washed over her like a cold wave. Scenes from earlier in the fight flashed through her mind—contact moments, movements—and then it hit her. One of Elaira's touches had been too smooth. Too exact.
Elaira didn't wait. The moment she saw the confusion in Selene's eyes, she acted. With one swift, flawless motion, she pressed the stolen card—taken earlier—against Selene's chest and activated it.
"I knew you'd try to use it now… That's why I took it beforehand," Elaira thought.
The moment the card touched skin, magic surged. Selene's body froze. Her legs wouldn't respond. Her arms turned heavy. A crushing weight radiated from her chest, throwing her balance off completely. It wasn't just a burdened limb—it was like her entire strength had been drained in a second.
She tried to move, to step—but couldn't. Her body remained still, unresponsive.
The shock on her face turned to fear. This wasn't just a failed plan—this was the end.
Elaira stood before her, breathing hard but coldly focused. She knew this card was made for moments like this. And that's why she took it.
Gasps erupted through the crowd. Some cried out. Some stood up. Even those who had been confident in Selene's victory now fell silent, watching her freeze in place—like a statue shackled by invisible chains.
"...No…" Selene murmured. "How did you…?"
But Elaira didn't answer. She stepped back and watched. The answer was clear.
With Selene standing immobilized, completely at Elaira's mercy, no one had any doubts left.
Victory—belonged to Elaira.
"It's obvious who won," Ralph said calmly, standing up from the wooden bench. He stretched casually, shedding any leftover tension, and headed off to prepare for his own match. His voice held no surprise or awe—just his usual, calm confidence.
Meanwhile, in the arena, the climax played out.
Elaira stood across from Selene, still breathing hard but perfectly composed. Despite exhaustion, her eyes were sharp and focused. She stepped forward.
"I knew you had another card in your hand. I saw it earlier. I foresaw that you'd try to use it at the last possible moment… and that's why I took it."
Selene stood frozen. The card on her chest held her in place. Struggling was pointless. Yet she smirked and, without bitterness, said,
"I surrender."
A wave of applause burst through the arena. What began as a curious magical scuffle had turned into a true duel of minds, tactics, and magical skill. Everyone who had doubted Elaira was stunned.
Among the spectators, Deyron and his companions exchanged glances.
"She actually won…" one muttered.
"And never once panicked," said another.
"The winner has been decided," the Elder's voice rang out, drawing all eyes. "Participant number 657431, Elaira Winterglaze—claims victory in this battle."
Another wave of excitement washed over the crowd. The audience stood and cheered.
Selene, not bothering to pretend pride in defeat, turned to Elaira with a light laugh.
"Take the cards off me, will you? I can't move… this thing works too well."
Elaira stepped forward and began removing the magical cards. They looked simple, but the magic within them could bind the body more effectively than chains.
As she removed the last one, Selene leaned closer and whispered,
"I already knew I was going to lose… The cards told me. Especially after I saw you… that day you were bathing in the hot spring."
Elaira froze, her hand hovering above Selene's chest. Her eyes slowly lifted.
"...What?" she croaked.
Selene smirked.
"You were so focused, like nothing else in the world existed. That's when I realized how serious you were. I already knew it wouldn't be easy."
Elaira turned away sharply, her face blazing with shame and anger. But then—another memory hit her. Just recently, she had beaten Rob for supposedly spying on her in the hot springs. He swore he hadn't, and she didn't believe him. She acted harshly, emotionally.
"Damn… I beat up Rob for that... and he wasn't lying."
"...You're serious?" she muttered through clenched teeth, not looking back.
"Relax, I just watched from a distance. Nothing pervy," Selene said with a grin. "I just needed to understand you. And yeah—the cards already showed me that victory wouldn't be mine."
Elaira silently finished removing the last card and stepped back.
"Next time… give me a heads up," she muttered, still avoiding eye contact.
Selene just chuckled and nodded.
"Deal."
Both of them understood: the battle was over. But between them remained a thread of mutual respect—and the realization that this encounter had changed them both.