Torrin's massive frame loomed over Eryndor, earth energy crackling faintly along his fists. Every step he took sent vibrations through the stone beneath them, a reminder of his brute strength. Eryndor adjusted his stance, wind tugging at his coat, lightning arcing subtly along his fingertips.
Torrin charged. His fist, glowing faintly with earthen energy, swung in a devastating arc. Eryndor stepped lightly, Pulse Step carrying him just beyond reach. The wind guided his motion, spinning him behind Torrin in an almost imperceptible blur.
Before Torrin could recover, Eryndor unleashed Arc Lash, a strike of lightning arcing along his forearm. It hit Torrin's shoulder, sending a sharp shock up his arm and forcing him to stagger.
Torrin roared, swinging again, this time attempting a low sweep aimed to knock Eryndor off balance. Eryndor dropped into a crouch, letting Gale Feint lift him slightly as he rolled past the sweep, landing lightly on his feet. He immediately followed with a series of spinning kicks, each crackling with controlled bursts of electricity.
Torrin barely managed to block the strikes, his massive arms shaking with the force. Lightning arced between them, and wind gusts pushed his momentum slightly off course. Eryndor didn't pause; Eightfold Flow dictated the rhythm of his attacks. One spin led into another, elbows striking, knees rising, his entire body a seamless chain of motion.
Torrin retaliated, slamming the ground and sending a shockwave toward Eryndor. The wind tore around him as he leaped, using Pulse Step mid-air to adjust trajectory, landing behind Torrin in a crouched strike aimed at his back. Lightning surged along his fist, connecting with Torrin's armored shoulder.
The courtyard seemed to shiver with the intensity of their duel. Each movement was a dance—Torrin's raw, earth-fueled power meeting Eryndor's fluid, calculated rhythm of martial arts enhanced by elemental mastery.
Eryndor spun again, using a Gale Feint-assisted pivot to sidestep a follow-up strike, then closed the distance with a rapid elbow strike, lightning arcing along his arm. Torrin swung wildly, but Eryndor weaved through, delivering a precise series of punches and kicks, each subtly amplified by his Ember Tier abilities.
Finally, with Torrin momentarily off balance, Eryndor struck a decisive blow: a concentrated Arc Lash punch to the torso, lightning dancing across the impact point. Torrin staggered, huffed, and then dropped into a defensive stance, conceding the round.
Eryndor landed lightly, breath steady, wind still tugging at his coat. Lightning hummed faintly along his arms as he straightened, eyes meeting Torrin's in mutual respect.
Kael's eyes followed the entire sequence, unflinching, yet there was a faint acknowledgment in his gaze. Eryndor's combination of Ember Tier elemental bursts with precise, flowing martial arts had turned a raw, strength-based opponent into a controlled, readable target. Even though he was still "weak" compared to the academy's elite, his adaptability and choreography marked him as a student with rare potential.
As Eryndor backed away, preparing for the next match, the courtyard seemed to settle, the dust swirling in the wind, lightning sparks fading. Each duel in the top ten would demand more—more speed, more strategy, more control—but for now, Eryndor had shown the power of martial flow fused with elemental mastery.