Chapter 7 - Duel
CH7 Duel
***
Zora was working in the Tower Master's office as usual when a middle-aged mage from the Enforcement Hall knocked and entered.
"Lady Zora, I bring urgent news. Master Alex Fury has challenged a peer to a Dragon Duel." He reported.
"What?!" Zora shot up from her chair. "Who did he challenge?"
"Marcus Hertarian, a Novice mage. He and his gang have been bullying Master Alex for over a week. It seems Alex finally had enough."
"A mere acolyte dares to harass an official disciple of the Tower Master? Why wasn't I informed of this sooner?" Zora's tone dropped the room's temperature.
Though the Enforcement mage was a peak Elite-ranked Mage—half a step from becoming a Great Mage—he instinctively shivered under her icy glare.
As expected of the Tower Master's daughter... he thought. A monster begets another monster.
"We reported the situation directly to the Tower Master," the mage replied calmly. "He instructed us to intervene only if there was a threat to life."
Zora's brow twitched.
"Also... Marcus Hertarian is one of Master Helmut Wastelander's underlings," he added.
Zora's expression darkened further.
'Helmut Wastelander... He must be up to something.' She exhaled sharply, 'The Dragon Duel can't be stopped, then -'
"Increase the protective detail around Alex," she ordered. "No one must interfere with the sanctity of the duel."
She stepped closer to the Enforcement mage, her presence pressing. "And I mean no one. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, Lady Zora."
"You're dismissed."
"Yes, my Lady."
As soon as he left, Zora cast a spell. A swirling portal opened before her, and she stepped through without hesitation.
---
The portal opened into a hidden chamber deep within the Dragon Enclave—a place that resembled the lair of a sleeping beast.
Zora approached a massive figure lying dormant. A creature over twenty meters tall rested in the cave's centre.
"You allowed Helmut to go after Alex?" she asked the air.
"No," Merlin's voice echoed around the cavern. "I simply told the Enforcement Hall not to intervene unless Alex's life was in danger."
"So, you knew your personal disciple -a child- was being bullied by a gang of fully grown adults... and you let it happen."
"I'm raising a predator, not a greenhouse flower," Merlin replied coolly. "Age means little in Pangea, even less in the battlefields beyond our plane. If he cannot even subdue some mere acolyte thugs, how can he hope to make a name for himself in our world?"
Zora pursed her lips. She didn't like it—but she understood.
"The Wastelander brothers are overstepping," she said at last. "This isn't their family's duchy."
"Very well. If Alex wins, I will send the Wastelanders—and their backers—a warning."
"Good." She turned to leave. "It's not enough... but it will do."
As she vanished into a second portal, Merlin chuckled.
"To think my cold-hearted Ice Queen of a daughter would care so much for someone... Did the boy awaken her maternal instincts, I wonder?"
The cave fell silent again, save for the slumbering breaths of the enormous creature.
---
News of the duel exploded across the Enclave by sunset.
Whispers echoed in dorm halls, lectures paused for chatter, and taverns roared with gossip.
---
In pubs and tea halls, the rumors only grew louder.
A group of mages gathered around a table in one such pub.
"Did you hear? The Tower Master's new disciple challenged someone to a Dragon Duel."
"That's old news. The whole Enclave knows by now."
"Anyone know who he is?"
"Just that he's a Fury."
"As in the Fury family?" one man gasped. "Earl Drake, Count Gordon, Countess Megan... that Fury family?"
"The same."
"Who'd be crazy enough to duel a member of that lunatic bloodline?!"
"Well... this one's different," a younger mage chimed in. "My cousin works in Admin. Heard some details."
"Speak, brother! You're among friends." Someone pushed a mug toward him.
The young mage grinned. "He's Earl Drake Fury's son—Alex. Apparently, his bloodline hasn't manifested, and his warrior talent's mediocre. That's why he was sent to the Mage Tower."
Apparently, his bloodline is really potent, but he couldn't manifest it. His warrior talent is also mediocre. This is why he was sent to the Mage Tower."
"That explains it. Most Furies are warriors. Never heard of one going full mage."
"But still... a Fury without combat prowess?"
"Right, which is why he was being bullied by a gang of older acolytes led by Marcus Hertarian. I don't have to tell you why a Hertarian would attack a Fury, right?" The informant revealed.
"That's true. Given how Countess Megan has been harassing the Hertarian lands, Marcus probably sees this as payback."
"Plus, Marcus is Master Helmut's lackey. And Helmut's a Tower Master's disciple too."
"So this is about internal disciple politics?" someone gasped.
"Seems so. From what I heard, Alex got a personal grant from the Tower Master only a month in.
"Although I don't know what the grant was for, we all know how notoriously difficult it is to get a grant from the Tower Master. Master Alex must have achieved something great to have received it. That alone is enough to make enemies."
"Hais (whistle)... Doesn't that means Master Alex is likely to win this Duel?"
"Not necessarily." Another person spoke up. "I heard Baldrick Pinchcoin was fuming about Master Alex's spending. Most of it were on materials, not spells.
"I believe Master Alex is more of a researcher than a fighter. That is the only way to explain how he can spend so much that Pinchcoin would fume about a grant personally given by the Tower Master."
The informant spoke again, "You are right. According to what I was able to find out, Master Alex has only requested and seen practicing two Grade-0 spells; Magic Arrow and Magic Ball."
"What if the Tower Master taught him other spells?" A pubgoer asked.
"You must be new in the Tower. Everybody knows the Tower Master only teaches his disciples spells directly when they reach Intermediate Mage rank." Another replied.
"Even if the Tower Master taught him other spells, Master Alex has only been at the Tower for four months, how many spell can he learn in that time, much less master?
"Marcus Hertarian is a peak Novice who is on the verge of becoming a full Fire Mage. The difference is too clear."
"Then... why challenge Marcus to a Dragon Duel?"
"Pride. He's still a Fury, bloodline or not."
"Poor kid's gonna get torn apart..."
"Looks like we shouldn't expect good odds in the betting square since the result is so clear."
"Well, you can make a fortune if you bet on Master Alex."
"Yeah, no. I would rather use my money for something else. I just the kid doesn't get beaten up too badly."
The tavern's mood shifted from excitement to cautious pity. While the odds were clearly against Alex, the sheer audacity of his challenge kept the Enclave abuzz.
Everyone was watching.
And many were placing bets.
The day of the duel arrived.
Calmly and without fanfare, Alex Fury stepped out of his dorm. His gait was steady, his posture composed. The only sign betraying his inner turmoil was the occasional shimmer of crimson in his eyes—evidence of his struggle to suppress the surging emotions stirred by the Furor Bloodline.
He arrived at the Duel Arena, a massive coliseum built specifically for Dragon Duels. It could hold thousands of spectators and was reinforced with layered arrays, capable of containing the destruction wrought by Great Mage-level combatants while shielding the audience from any residual effects.
Duels were rare in the Enclave. Most disputes were settled through compensation, negotiation, or arbitration.
After all, it was costly to both duellists. The cost for the arena, fees for damages, fees for the officiating mages and the risk of serious injury or death.
The Dragon Duel was even more so.
This was the closest thing to a life-and-death battle permitted within the Enclave.
Still, most spectators were relaxed. It was hard to imagine a duel between two Novice acolytes ending in fatality. Many had come purely out of curiosity—or to gamble on the outcome.
---
Inside one of the VIP rooms overlooking the arena, a tall youth watched the preparations below. His arrogant smile widened as he saw Alex enter the stage.
The door opened behind him, and a cold breeze accompanied the entrance of a blue-haired woman.
"Lady Zora, welcome," Helmut Wastelander greeted coolly.
"A clever move setting up this farce, Helmut," Zora said icily. "Did you think if Alex lost, the Tower Master would cast him aside?"
"I'm simply testing the strength of our Master's newest disciple," he replied smoothly.
Zora narrowed her eyes. "Who are you to question the Tower Master's judgment? Because you're one of Duke Wastelander's sons? Don't forget, you are only one of many such sons."
She released a pulse of chilling aura that sent Helmut staggering backward, struggling to breathe.
"And this... is DragonHold," she said flatly.
Her point made, she turned to leave. "You better pray Marcus wins. If he doesn't, you will answer for interfering with the Tower Master's plans."
She vanished through the door.
It took Helmut a moment to recover his composure. Gritting his teeth, he growled,
'Arrogant wench. You will become a slut of the Wastelander family soon enough.'
He looked back at the arena. As for you, little waste... enjoy your last moment of dignity.
---
Alex and Marcus stood twenty meters apart in the center of the coliseum. Neither spoke.
Ding~
The duel began.
Both began chanting. Marcus's chant was smooth and precise—proof he was no mere acolyte. With confidence, he cast the signature spell of a Fire Mage.
Fireball.
The spell soared forward, fast and dangerous. A Grade-2 spell with a splash radius of ten meters. Even a glancing blow would be devastating.
The audience stirred. Many were surprised that Marcus was already at the Beginner Mage level.
Alex was still chanting—a Grade-0 spell no less.
Magic Ball? A collective sigh of disappointment rippled through the crowd.
But then, something strange happened.
Alex's chant deviated.
Grade-0 Derived Spell: Magic Shield!
A translucent dome burst into existence, absorbing the Fireball entirely.
What?! Marcus's eyes widened.
Magic Shield was a Grade-3 spell, normally requiring the mana pool of an Intermediate Mage. How had Alex cast it?
Before they could recover from the shock—
Grade-0 Derived Spell: Magic Bullet!
A glowing arrow formed above Alex's hand—then split into three bolts.
They shot toward Marcus like streaks of light.
Two bolts pierced his legs. The third slammed into his right arm.
Marcus screamed and collapsed. The duel should've been over.
But Alex wasn't finished.
Silence! Restrict! Bind!
Three spells fired in succession, sealing Marcus's movements and voice.
Then came another barrage of Magic Bullets, each one striking with precise brutality. None were fatal, but all were painful.
Marcus stared in horror at the boy approaching him—his crimson eyes glowing with quiet fury.
He understood now.
He had provoked a predator.
"Stop! That is enough!" an elderly voice boomed.
A Grand Mage appeared by the barrier, cloaked in formal robes. His presence weighed heavily on the arena.
"Your opponent has clearly lost. There is no reason to continue," he said sternly.
Alex turned toward him. His glowing eyes met the old man's.
The Grand Mage flinched.
The boy's face... Those eyes... They bore a strong resemblance to him- the Mad Earl, Drake Fury.
But retreat wasn't an option. He was already involved.
He raised his hand—
Telekinesis.
He tried to pull Marcus toward him.
"What are you doing, Rodric?! Are you interfering in a Dragon Duel?!" roared a deep voice.
An Orc Grand Mage appeared, accompanied by the Warlord who had previously defended Alex.
"Don't slander me, Agrut!" Rodric Eber snapped. "This fight is over!"
"It is not a fight, it is a duel with their lives on the line. If no one yields, the duel continues!"
Amid their argument, Alex kept walking toward Marcus. His voice was cold.
Magic Arrow.
The spell hovered above his hand. He could've instant casted it—but he chanted slowly, deliberately.
A final blow.
"Alex, please stop!"
He paused.
Zora's voice cut through the tension. Alex turned to her.
For a moment, she didn't recognize the boy behind those terrifyingly calm, cold crimson eyes.
But then, the glow faded. His usual ruby red returned.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But I must remind some fools that choosing peace is not the same as weakness."
His tone was chillingly quiet.
He chanted again.
"Don't worry. For you, I won't kill him."
Grade-0 Derived Spell: Magic Blade!
The arrow shifted mid-air—morphing into a razor-sharp crescent blade.
It shot forward and severed Marcus's dominant right arm cleanly.
Alex released the restriction spells.
"I surren...der..." Marcus gasped before fainting.
Alex turned to the stunned crowd. His gaze swept across the arena—calm, cold, and resolute.
Then, without another word, he walked away.
The duel was over.
***