The announcer speaks up again,
"The reason for assigning lot number one to a particular participant isn't to show favoritism from the Faculty Council, but to challenge the other contestants—prove that the Faculty Council's prediction is wrong!"
Tseryo smiles calmly as always, Lugia stands her ground, Zeff remains indifferent, and Heirian laughs defiantly.
"Participants holding lot number 2, please come up to the stage! With this first match, the 77th Verlyn Academy Battlemage Competition officially begins!!"
The first round of battles begins simultaneously on all four stages. The opponents of each lot number 1 holder make their way to the arena. The audience grows even more excited as they watch.
A trained battlemage can form weapons from their elemental power.
On the Group A battle stage, through his right palm, Tseryo conjures water with a sweeping motion to the side, then with a single thrust, he transforms it into a clear blue sword layered with ice—a beautiful weapon infused with strong elemental energy.
His opponent steps onto the stage—a young battlemage of the earth element, already fired up by all the praise Tseryo received from the crowd.
"You do realize the one given lot number 2 isn't some nobody, right? Don't get cocky, pretty boy—looks won't win you a fight."
Tseryo isn't fazed in the slightest by such confrontational words.
"Of course I know that lot number 2 isn't just anyone. But they're definitely weaker than number one."
His opponent grows even more enraged at the remark.
"I'll crush you into mush!!"
High-speed stone blocks come hurtling toward him, launched by a massive hammer. Tseryo is mildly impressed by his opponent's ability—it makes sense the man is so confident about defeating him.
Yet the dangerous assault does nothing to disturb the calm on Tseryo's face.
With swift, fluid movements, he dodges effortlessly, then brandishes his blue sword—sending a stream of water swirling through the air, instantly wiping out all the incoming stone with a single sweep.
In the same breath, Tseryo dashes forward at high speed, delivering a sword strike that his opponent has no chance of avoiding.
Slash!
A single slash from the ice-layered water sword instantly knocks Tseryo's opponent off the stage. The Faculty Council is visibly astonished.
"Exactly what we've been hoping for from the next Duke of Lavrel."
One of the junior patrol team members who had been rooting for Tseryo bursts into loud cheers from the very back row of the audience.
"See?! My champion is super strong, right? He's definitely gonna win!"
He's immediately countered by his teammate who supports Zeff,
"Watch Zeff Lou Roan's performance on Stage D first!"
On Stage D, where Zeff Lou Roan stands, his opponent rambles on with a string of intimidating remarks, leaving Zeff waiting in boredom.
The ultimatum ends as the opponent finally begins to summon a spear. Only then does Zeff let out a relieved sigh.
"Finally," he says, as sparks of electro energy begin to crackle around him.
"Don't underestimate me, Zeff Lou…"
Zrrt!
A flash of electro lightning streaks past the man—Zeff, gripping two electro daggers, has already appeared behind his opponent. The spear-wielding man, his face tight with tension, crashes to the ground, unconscious.
The crowd explodes with excitement— while Zeff, on the other hand, grumbles in annoyance at the fallen opponent.
"You took too long to summon your weapon because you kept rambling."
Defeating him was faster than waiting for him to finish talking.
A teacher seated to the left of the Grand Master clicks his tongue in awe. "I could barely see Zeff Lou Roan's movement."
"That's what happens when a dark horse makes its move—unpredictable," the Grand Master replies, always holding a deep admiration.
Liam feels the same sense of admiration for Zeff's ability.
"Compared to other elements, electro mages are fewer in number, and it takes hard work to master their element properly. That boy is exceptionally talented."
"You acknowledge it too, William? He's my favorite student this term.
Oh, though of course, he can't be compared to you—with your rare elemental power."
Liam responds to the Grand Master's praise with only a faint smile.
A sudden roar of cheers erupts from Stage B—as Herian wields his claymore to unleash a blazing firestorm that engulfs the stage. His opponent instantly loses all courage and leaps down in a panic.
"I surrender! Help!!"
The crowd erupts in a mix of awe and laughter—amazed by Herian's fiery power, and amused by his opponent's panicked escape. The spectacle on Stage B completely steals the spotlight.
Herian laughs proudly, basking in the flood of praise thrown his way.
The teacher seated beside the Grand Master can't help but join in the admiration.
"Exceptional fire control for someone so young. What does the Grand Master think—as a fellow fire-element mage?"
Unlike when he watched Zeff in action, this time only a modest smile appears on the Grand Master's face.
"It is impressive, but…"
His gaze shifts, as if recalling someone from the past.
"I've met someone even more gifted."
The announcer's voice snaps everyone to attention as a fierce whirlwind rages on Stage C.
"Whoa!! What just happened? Did Lugia Walner get thrown out of the arena?"
The braided girl crashes to the ground, grimacing in pain. The whirlwind on the stage begins to fade. Every eye in the audience turns toward Stage C, filled with curiosity.
"Who just shattered the Faculty Council's prediction in this very first match? Let me check the name…"
"Vichella… Arleith! Wind-element Battlemage!"
"WOOOW!!!" Jacelin's cheer erupts louder than anyone's. "VICHEEEEL!!"
On Stage C, amidst the crowd's awestruck cheers, Vichel stands as the winner of the first match—proving she is the one who truly deserves to be there.
Tseryo smiles as he watches her from afar. Just as he expected.
Lutzer Swan lets out a soft chuckle in his aged voice.
"This year, once again, the Faculty Council's prediction was wrong."
"She beat your granddaughter, Grand Master," the teacher beside him remarks.
But the Grand Master responds calmly, unfazed.
"Ah, Lugia still needs more training."
"Vichella Arleith." The name slips from Liam's lips, once again leaving him stunned and breathless.
Knowing her name—and now seeing her perform in the arena—brings a quiet joy to Liam, even as a part of him still wonders, why?
"Grand Master, do you know her?" he quickly asks, eager to know more.
"You mean Vichella Arleith? She's one of the most talented battlemage students in the 77th class," Lutzer replied.
"At first, the Faculty Council was unsure whether to assign lot number 1 to Lugia or Vichella. It seems they gave it to Lugia out of respect, since she's my granddaughter—and gave lot number 2 to Vichella instead.
But in the end, Vichella proved she's the one who truly deserved the top spot."
Lutzer ended the story with another laugh.
Liam smiles in quiet admiration, his eyes returning to Vichel in the arena.
"Vichella Arleith."
The name echoes in his heart, accompanied by a warm smile.
Liam's gaze shifts toward the Group A stage, directly across from the honor platform. Tseryo, about to step down, turns his head—his face now clearly visible to those seated in the platform.
In that moment, Liam's eyes widen, frozen in place as he sees Tseryo's face up close.
"Him…!"
A vision from Y'tzyar rushes back into his mind—a glimpse of the future, where four figures kneel before him in unwavering loyalty.
Tseryo was one of them—the one kneeling furthest to the right, with neatly styled pale silver hair.
"He's… one of the four warlords Y'tzyar foretold."