Mana Duel (Part 2)
Professor Kane led us out of the lecture hall, his voice carrying over the murmur of students. "Follow me. We're heading toward the combat facilities."
As we filed into the corridor, I noticed Combat Class B streaming out of their lecture room as well, led by another professor—a younger woman with short auburn hair and sharp eyes.
Two groups moved through the academy, going down stairs, then around the campus for a five-minute walk before we reached a massive building, a dome-shaped structure that looked like a mix between a hangar and a colosseum.
Professor Kane led us inside. What greeted us was enormous, multiple raised arenas spread across a vast space, each one with clear boundary lines. There were multiple floating lights suspended at a certain height above, and each arena had a box-like panel to its side.
It was the same thing Luna and I had seen yesterday with Adrian and others, but from the looks of it, the other students hadn't visited this place as they went silent in awe at the sight.
Turning around, Professor Kane addressed both Class A and B. "For those from Class B who are unfamiliar, I am Professor Kane, homeroom instructor for Combat Class A. And this," he gestured to the woman beside him, "is Professor Reeves, homeroom instructor for Combat Class B.”
The woman nodded curtly, her sharp eyes sweeping over the assembled students.
“Today,” Professor Kane continued, “Class A will be dueling Class B. Theory is important, but it won’t automatically improve your mana control. It won’t save you when you’re facing real danger. It only gives you understanding, after that, you must apply it through practical sparring like this.”
A buzz spread through the room as students shot the other class curious, surprised glances. Then it shifted into excitement, everyone eager to prove themselves against each other on the very first day.
I heard a click of the tongue in front of me as Belle shot me another hateful glare.
Truth be told, I was getting tired of it. The constant hostility was starting to grate on my nerves. But I just needed to hold on until Sunday.
Just then, Professor Kane walked over to one of the control panels.
He pressed a few buttons. The flat white arena rippled, then shook. Dark gray stone burst from the floor, rising into small peaks and rough rocky formations. In seconds, the clean platform turned into a dangerous, uneven battlefield.
The crowd was impressed.
Professor Reeves announced with her sharp, strict voice, "Both duelists will be chosen randomly. And the first match will be A-12 versus B-2"
The crowd stirred. Students shifted to get a better view as two figures stepped forward. A-12 Ethan walked calmly toward the arena. His opponent, B-2 was Marcus, a bulky guy with a shaved head and a confident swagger.
Before entering, Professor Reeves handed them what looked like a sword hilt.
"This is a mana sword," she explained, holding one up for everyone to see. "Channel your mana into it, and it will ignite and extend into a blade.”
She looked between the two duelists, then raised her voice so the entire crowd could hear.
"For this exercise, you are only allowed to use mana. No skills. Understood?"
Both Ethan and Marcus nodded.
Then entered the arena and stopped in the middle area. The arena itself was large enough that they could run circles around each other and turn it into a game of chase and tag, but instead they just took a respectful distance from one another.
"Begin!" Professor Kane shouted.
Marcus wasted no time. He surged forward, his mana sword flaring to life—a blade of crackling blue energy. He closed the distance in a blur of motion.
Ethan ignited his own blade just in time, catching the first heavy blow from Marcus. You could see Ethan wince as his hand wobbled under the impact. It was a clear display of the strength disadvantage; when a person circulates mana through their body, their latent potential bursts forward, making raw stats a real deal.
Marcus didn’t let up. He pressed the advantage immediately, driving Ethan back with sheer physical force. His swings were wide and powerful each one forcing Ethan to retreat another step.
From the sidelines, the murmurs from the students grew.
"Is A-12 actually losing?"
"That Class B guy is a beast... look at that pressure."
To most of the onlookers, it looked like a one-sided slaughter. Ethan’s defense was frantic, his movements appearing jerky and uncoordinated compared to Marcus’s confident swagger. He was being herded toward the edge of the arena, one more yard and he’d be out of bounds.
Marcus grinned, sensing the finish line. He drew his arm back, raising his blade high for a final,
crushing overhead strike intended to shatter Ethan's guard entirely.
But maybe because I knew the original plot, I knew that Ethan wasn't on disadvantage because for someone who was being pushed back his face didn't show a look of panic.
The moment Marcus committed to the massive downward swing, Ethan’s "wobbly" posture vanished. With precise agility, he side-stepped the descending arc. Marcus’s blade slammed into the dark stone with a thunderous crack, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust and stone chips.
Before Marcus could even begin to reset his weight, Ethan was already inside his guard. He stepped in close, his movement fluid and efficient, and flicked his wrist upward. The glowing tip of his mana blade came to a dead halt just an inch beneath Marcus’s chin.
The air in the dome went still.
"Match over," Professor Reeves announced, her voice ringing through the facility. "Winner: Ethan Cross."
Marcus blinked, still processing what happened.
The crowd erupted into whispers.
Professor Kane stepped forward
He didn't look impressed; if anything, he looked like he had expected exactly this outcome. He held up a hand, and the whispers died down instantly.
"Class B," Kane began, his voice booming. "You saw Marcus’s strength. He used his mana to bolster his physical stats, and he did it well. But he forgot the most important rule of combat: Mana isn't just a battery for your muscles; it’s an extension of your senses."
He gestured toward the crater Marcus had left in the stone.
"Marcus was blinded by his own output. He was so focused on the power of his swings that he didn't notice Ethan wasn't actually struggling to keep up, he was adjusting his rhythm to match Marcus’s.
Ethan used the minimum amount of mana required to survive, while Marcus burned through his reserves like a forest fire."
Professor Reeves stepped up beside him, her sharp gaze landing on the students of Class A.
"And for Class A," she added, "don't get comfortable. Ethan won because of a gamble. If Marcus had feinted that overhead strike, Ethan would be the one on the floor right now. Reliance on 'efficiency' can become its own weakness if you aren't prepared for a change in pace."
Up until now, everything was unfolding exactly according to the original plot.
Following Ethan’s victory, several other pairings were called: A-18 vs. B-6, A-16 vs. B-12, and A-11 vs. B-17. Two of those matches ended in a victory for Class B, while Class A managed to scrape a win in
the final one.
The score was now a dead: 2-2.
The murmurs among the students grew more intense.
“Next match: A-1 vs. B-7.”
It was Adrian’s match now.
