Chapter 8: When One Duel Becomes Many
The academy never attacked directly.
It tested.
It observed.
It exhausted.
Aren Valerius Arcanveil understood this the moment he stepped into Arena Seven.
This arena was smaller than Arena Three, tighter, with fewer spectator seats and thicker defensive arrays etched into the walls. It was designed not for spectacle—but for efficiency.
Efficient fights.
Efficient outcomes.
Efficient elimination.
They want to see how long I last, Aren thought, calm as he rolled his shoulders once.
Across from him stood his next opponent.
A mage.
Opponent POV – Selene Frostfall (Rank 138)
Selene tightened her grip on her staff, eyes sharp behind thin-rimmed glasses.
Sword students, she thought disdainfully. They always rush.
She had watched Aren's duel with Roderic Hale carefully.
Not as a spectator.
As a predator.
He relies on proximity, Selene concluded. Control the distance, and he breaks.
Her mana stirred—cold, precise, disciplined.
Ice-element magic.
A bad matchup for reckless fighters.
The instructor raised her hand.
"Begin."
Aren POV
The temperature dropped instantly.
Aren felt it before he saw it—mana density shifting, moisture in the air crystallizing as a web of frost expanded across the arena floor.
Area denial, Aren assessed. She's smart.
Selene didn't attack immediately.
She retreated.
Spacing. Control. Pressure without commitment.
She wants me to move first.
Aren didn't.
He planted his foot deliberately, letting mana circulate downward, reinforcing muscle and balance. Sword intent sank inward, quiet and contained.
If I rush, I lose.
So he waited.
The ice crept closer.
Selene frowned slightly.
Why isn't he panicking?
She raised her staff and released the first spell.
"Ice Lance."
Three crystalline spears formed midair and shot toward Aren at high speed, their trajectories staggered to prevent easy evasion.
Good geometry, Aren thought.
He stepped sideways—not backward—and let mana surge briefly through his blade.
Steel met ice.
The first lance shattered.
The second grazed his shoulder, numbing his arm instantly.
The third—he ducked under it, feeling cold tear past his hair.
The crowd murmured.
Selene's eyes narrowed.
He blocked magic… with a sword?
Combat Breakdown (Aren's Inner Thought)
Blocking spells isn't efficient, Aren acknowledged internally.
But letting her dictate tempo is worse.
He adjusted.
Mana flowed not into strength—but into timing.
Selene launched another volley, this time wider, forcing movement.
Aren moved.
Not forward.
Diagonal.
Each step calculated to minimize exposure while closing distance by inches.
She's retreating in arcs, he noticed. Predictable.
Selene cast again.
"Frozen Bind!"
The ground erupted beneath Aren's feet, ice surging upward to lock his legs.
Aren reacted instantly.
Sword intent flared—not outward, but downward.
The ice cracked.
Pain shot through his calves as frost bit deep.
Acceptable damage, he judged. Worth the trade.
He stepped forward.
The distance halved.
Selene's breath hitched.
Too fast—
She retreated again, staff glowing brighter.
Mana cost spiked.
Aren felt it.
She's burning stamina.
He accelerated.
Not recklessly.
Precisely.
Selene POV
Why won't he fall back?!
Selene released a high-output spell—something she had sworn not to use in low-tier duels.
"Glacial Curtain!"
A wall of ice surged between them.
Aren didn't stop.
He infused mana into his shoulder and rammed the barrier.
Ice exploded.
The shockwave knocked Selene backward.
Her footing slipped.
For half a second—
That was enough.
Aren's blade stopped an inch from her throat.
The arena went silent.
The instructor raised her hand instantly.
"Match concluded. Winner—Aren Valerius Arcanveil."
Selene froze.
Then exhaled sharply.
"…I lost."
Not in disbelief.
In realization.
He didn't overpower me, she thought. He outlasted me.
Immediate Aftermath
The crowd was quieter this time.
No cheers.
No disbelief.
Just reassessment.
A sword student defeating a mage through patience—not aggression—forced recalculation.
Aren stepped back and bowed once.
Respectful.
Controlled.
The system descended heavily.
[World Convergence System]
Event Resolution: Duel Victory
Opponent: Selene Frostfall (Rank 138)
Method: Attrition & Tempo Control
Threat Level: Moderate
Performance Assessment:
- Damage Taken: Acceptable
- Mana Efficiency: High
- Tactical Discipline: Exceptional
Stat Growth Applied:
- Speed: +1
- Mental Focus: +1
The full panel unfolded.
[World Convergence System]
Name: Aren Valerius Arcanveil
Title: Canon-Dead Extra | Duel-Confirmed Student
Affiliation: House Arcanveil
Path:
- Magic Cultivation
- Sword Cultivation
Realm:
- Magic: Apprentice Mage (Late)
- Sword: Sword Trainee (Peak → Threshold)
Attributes:
- Strength: 16
- Speed: 16 (+1)
- Stamina: 17
- Vitality: 17
- Mana: 20
- Mental Focus: 20 (+1)
Combat Stats:
- Physical Power: C+
- Mana Control: B-
- Sword Mastery: B-
- Battle Instinct: B
Skills:
- Dual Path Sovereignty (Authority · Passive)
- Mana Flow Regulation (Passive)
- Foundation Sword Forms (Advanced)
Plot Metrics:
- Plot Engagement: 25% (+4%)
- Rival Nodes: 6 (Active)
- Fate Attention: Noticed → Watching
Condition:
- Frost Damage (Minor)
- Mana Reserve: 63%
System Evaluation:
- Status: Escalating
- Risk Level: Increasing
- Recommendation: Rest or Strategic Engagement
Aren dismissed the screen slowly.
One down, he thought. Several to go.
As he left the arena, he felt it again.
That pressure.
Different from before.
He glanced up toward the observation balconies.
High above, Kael Durnhart stood in silence.
Their eyes did not meet.
But understanding passed between them.
You're climbing, Kael thought.
And you're doing it the hard way.
Aren sheathed his sword.
Let them keep testing, he decided.
Every duel sharpens me.
The academy had chosen attrition.
Aren would answer with endurance.