Northern looked at him tiredly, then summoned the Illusioned Hefter. The sleek silver blade gleamed wickedly as it caught the cold morning light, a bright sheen dancing across its polished edge like a silent threat.
Kaelan continued his slow approach, deliberate with each step. When he saw Northern summon a sword—and worse, a single-handed one—he squinted, visibly irritated.
"Do you seriously plan to not take this seriously? You promised."
Northern grimaced.
"What do you mean? This is me taking it seriously."
Kaelan was quiet for a moment. Then he raised his chin slightly, a spark of offense flashing through his voice.
"I warn you, Rian… that sword is a poor match against me. You've got ice. Fire. What about those? Why force short-range when you're built to dominate from a distance?"
Northern's brow twitched as though a headache had just bloomed behind his eyes.
He shrugged lazily.
"It seems no one has learned their lesson yet."
Then his gaze sharpened—pinning Kaelan with a cold glint.
"Please… stop talking. And come at me."
A demented grin overturned Kaelan's composed façade. His upper body leaned forward, swords swinging behind him like wings. One foot dragged back across the arena floor, cracking the concrete under the strain of coiled power.
"You asked for it! Don't disappoint me now!"
With a shout, Kaelan vanished.
It was a blur. No, a distortion. His form seemed to disintegrate into the wind, skidding across the ground with impossible speed.
The crowd gasped. It wasn't just fast—it was confusing. Like watching a phantom stitched into space and time rip its threads loose.
Even Northern raised the corner of his lips, intrigued.
Kaelan was a streak of violet light—hurtling toward him like a bullet fired from the cannon of a colossus compressed into a human body.
His twin swords blurred through the air and came crashing down onto Northern's head. There was no hesitation—no trial swing. It was full-force, both blades hammering down like guillotines.
Northern raised the Illusioned Hefter just in time to block.
The clash exploded with force.
A vicious shockwave tore outward, rattling the very bones of the arena. The ground beneath them cracked and shattered. Debris rose skyward, caught in reverse gravity, a chaotic bloom of destruction.
Northern felt the pressure scream through his arms. His fingers strained to keep hold. The Illusioned Hefter let out a hollow vibration—an eerie hum as the impact registered through its core.
'What the… hell…'
His mind churned. Maybe it was the state of his degraded body. Maybe that's why the blow hurt so much.
But that kind of excuse disgusted him.
Kaelan Kejar— or whatever cover name he went by—was strong. Very strong.
And Northern knew… from here on out, it would only get harder. He would be fighting the elites of the elites at Milhguard Academy.
Something shifted in his expression.
As Kaelan pressed down, trying to drive him into the ground, a new light ignited in Northern's eyes. A dangerous glint. His icy irises sparked with a twisted gleam—equal parts thrill and madness.
Then, all at once, he lashed out.
A pulse of strength exploded from his body, blasting away the force. Kaelan was thrown into the air—but he spun mid-flight with the elegance of a sky dancer, blades trailing light. He twisted, rolled, and landed softly on the ground, sliding back a few feet with the grace of someone who had done this far too many times before.
He looked up at Northern.
That demented grin returned.
A faint violet glow flared in his eyes.
"There it is… my friend! Let us enjoy this moment to the fullest!"
Kaelan spun one of his blades into the air, letting it whirl like a silver cyclone before catching it just before it dropped an inch.
The moment it touched his palm, his body blurred—vanishing again in a streak of violet light that slashed across the air like lightning.
The ground smudged beneath his feet as he accelerated—faster than before, faster than thought. He reappeared in front of Northern, and his blades came down in a brutal arc, sharp and pressuring with merciless momentum.
But Northern stepped back slightly, eyes cool. With a flick of his wrist, he brought the Illusioned Hefter upward from below. He caught Kaelan's first blade and guided it outward with a smooth redirection, then whipped his hand back around fast enough to parry the second sword with an upward deflection. All in one fluid, flashing motion.
The speed was insane.
Neither of their movements could be tracked easily—only the blur of limbs and the echo of clashing steel remained.
Kaelan's twin blades began weaving intricate patterns, arcs layered atop arcs, slashes folding in on themselves like a deadly dance.
Northern responded with one sword—and it was enough.
He followed every rhythm, carried every motion, redirected and absorbed each slash as though he had practiced the very patterns Kaelan now used. The Illusioned Hefter flowed like water and struck like wind, parrying and guiding violent strikes away with surgical control.
Cantaloupe-orange sparks burst through the air with every clash. Shockwaves rippled out in overlapping rings, colliding in mid-air and cracking the arena floor beneath their feet.
Northern didn't move from his spot.
No matter how Kaelan shifted angles, no matter how low or high the attack came, Northern's blade was already there—meeting him, countering him, stopping him.
Every strike carried weight. And while Kaelan pressed the offense with escalating fury, Northern handled it with unnerving ease. He wasn't unscathed—his brows furrowed slightly as if mildly inconvenienced—but he was holding ground.
It was tough, yes. But still manageable.
Kaelan, on the other hand, wasn't hiding his frustration.
His grin had twisted into a grimace, his strikes now more furious, more raw. As he lashed out in another vicious barrage, he spat out through gritted teeth:
"So you're just gonna stand there and block? This is what you call going all out?!"
Northern tilted his head slightly, face calm, almost bored.
"Then will you be kind enough to step back… so I can begin my round of attack?"
Kaelan's eyes twitched. He snarled and suddenly withdrew one sword, thrusting forward with a violent grunt.
Northern's eyes widened—belatedly.
The blade pierced the air with a screech, and the sheer force of the thrust tore the wind apart. A horizontal shockwave screamed across the stage, its edge slicing clean through the ground like a guillotine of pressure.
Northern spun out of its path just in time.
The attack whooshed past him, erupting into a burst of gale-force wind that tore a long gash across the arena floor.
Northern's feet skidded back slightly from the aftershock.
His eyes narrowed.
'Oh…'