Chapter 7: Duel — Part 2.
12:00 A.M. — 12/6/17
The Arena Duel Ground was alive.
Under the cold night sky, rows of young sorcerers gathered around the circular arena, whispers spreading like static through the air. Barrier lights glowed faintly around the battleground, sealing it completely. This was not a training duel.
This was official.
"This is insane…" Yaikhomba murmured, eyes shining.
Lanthaba stood beside him, calm but focused. "This is real sorcery."
The referee stepped into the center, his voice amplified by Tha.
"Attention. This is the 24th Duel Match. Rules are simple—there are none. The one who remains standing wins."
The crowd stirred.
"Nongthapham Nemchand," the referee called.
A gust of cold wind swept the arena as Nemchand descended, landing confidently with a long spear in hand. The weapon was pale and polished, carved from Lairen Bone, humming faintly with stored energy.
Cheers erupted.
"And… Sorel Yaipokpa."
From the opposite side, Sorel walked in casually—wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. No weapon. No armor.
Some laughed.
Others went silent.
The two sorcerers locked eyes and smiled.
Nemchand snapped his fingers.
"Sagoi Uchek—answer."
The ground trembled.
A massive figure emerged—a turtle-like humanoid being, towering higher than a bus, its shell carved with ancient contract markings.
"Ta Ngu," Nemchand declared proudly. "A mythical Sagoi."
Sorel tilted his head slightly. "Still relying on help, I see."
The referee raised his hand.
"Three."
The arena went quiet.
"Two."
Even the wind seemed to stop.
"One."
The duel began.
For a split second, neither moved.
Then Nemchand vanished.
A blur—too fast for most eyes to follow.
His spear shot forward, aimed straight at Sorel's chest.
Sorel dodged at the last instant.
The spear grazed past—and suddenly Sorel's hand snapped out, grabbing the shaft mid-thrust.
Before Nemchand could react—
BAM.
A punch slammed into his face, sending him flying backward.
The crowd gasped.
But Nemchand didn't let go.
Even while airborne, he tightened his grip on the spear, dragging Sorel with him as he landed heavily.
Both sorcerers locked hands on the weapon, muscles straining.
Ta Ngu roared.
A glowing barrier enveloped Nemchand—a buffing field, amplifying his strength and speed.
Nemchand surged forward and smashed his head into Sorel's.
CRACK.
Sorel staggered.
The spear slipped from his grasp.
Nemchand didn't waste the moment—his kick slammed into Sorel's stomach, launching him backward. A flurry of spear thrusts followed, fast and precise.
Sorel dodged them all—by inches.
He stepped in again, seized the spear, and twisted—
—but electricity exploded along the weapon.
Sorel stiffened, shocked mid-motion.
Nemchand grinned. "Surprised?"
Sorel laughed.
"You've been trying tricks like that for years," he said. "And you still can't finish me."
Nemchand's smile widened. "Then don't blink."
He charged—
—but before he could strike, Sorel's fist drove straight into his stomach.
The impact echoed.
Nemchand was sent crashing across the arena, coughing violently as he hit the ground.
The crowd froze.
"That barrier didn't protect him…" Yaikhomba whispered, stunned.
Sorel rolled his shoulders slowly.
"I've waited a long time to punch you properly," he said calmly. "Now let me show you what real Thawai Sorcery looks like."
The lights dimmed.
Shadows spilled across the arena—unnatural, thick, alive.
Sorel raised his hand and chanted.
Dark tendrils erupted from the ground.
Ta Ngu roared as shadow bindings wrapped around its limbs, pinning the massive Sagoi in place. In the same instant, Nemchand was seized, shadows locking his arms and legs.
Sorel's smile turned sharp.
"My extension technique," he said softly.
"Shadow Moment."
The shadows moved at his command—binding, striking, shaping into puppets of darkness.
Nemchand struggled, but the shadows held firm.
The duel had turned.
And everyone watching understood—
This was no ordinary senior sorcerer.