The hushed murmurs of the gathered crowd slowly died down as the First Elder's voice boomed across the arena. "The masters are dismissed," he declared, his gaze sweeping over the distinguished figures, "only their disciples shall remain."
A ripple of disappointment, quickly suppressed, went through the departing masters. Among them, Hanz, a man whose stern features were often contorted by thinly veiled contempt, began to walk away. "That brat is awfully arrogant for his age," he muttered under his breath, his thoughts a venomous stew of resentment towards Kaiser, Vanfred's promising young disciple.
Vanfred, ever keen to needle his rival, caught Hanz's departing figure. A self-satisfied smirk played on his lips. "Hanz," he called out, his voice laced with a subtle taunt, "I didn't need to overrule you; my disciple is strong enough to do that himself." Vanfred's snicker, a sound that grated on Hanz's ears, only fueled the latter's already simmering anger. "Laugh as much as you want now," Hanz seethed internally, his mind already plotting revenge, "I'll get the last laugh."
Just then, a figure appeared, holding a bundle of slender sticks. "Everyone, choose one stick," he announced, his voice clear and resonant. Kaiser, Adriel, Clara, and the other disciples stepped forward, each carefully selecting a stick before presenting it to the elder. The elder meticulously noted down the names, and soon, a large table was unveiled, detailing the pairings for the upcoming matches.
Adriel vs. Keen. Fan vs. Cab. Kaiser's eyes scanned the list, finally landing on his name. His match was the last, a significant position, against Clara. He glanced at Clara, who returned his gaze with an expression of unadulterated disdain.
Hanz, observing the matchups, let out a triumphant laugh. He turned to Vanfred, his face a picture of smug satisfaction. "There goes your chance to get selected," he crowed, "Clara will destroy him!" Vanfred's earlier confidence wavered, a flicker of genuine fear for Kaiser's impending defeat crossing his usually composed features.
The first fight began: Adriel vs. Keen. Keen, with a surge of youthful bravado, drew his sword, its polished blade glinting under the arena's lights, and charged towards Adriel, executing a familiar sword technique. Adriel, however, was equally adept, his own blade a blur as he expertly countered Keen's moves. Undeterred, Keen shifted his stance, adopting a form that allowed for incredibly rapid swings, a whirlwind of steel. But Adriel was not to be outdone; he mirrored Keen's intensity, unleashing his own torrent of rapid attacks. The air filled with the high-pitched screech of steel on steel, a cacophony of clashing blades.
From his vantage point, Kaiser watched with a keen eye, his thoughts a rapid fire analysis. "Adriel doesn't seem to be using any defensive moves," he mused, "no, he's turning his defensive moves into offensive ones. Is this 'Pride'?" Keen, exhausted by the relentless onslaught, attempted to dodge, but Adriel was a relentless shadow, following his every movement, striking with precision. "He's still not tired?" Kaiser wondered, a knot forming in his stomach. "But how?"
Adriel, a manic grin spreading across his face, continued his relentless assault, his sword technique a blur of motion. Keen, not only physically drained but also visibly terrified by Adriel's deranged expression, began to falter. He stumbled, his face paling with dread as Adriel pressed his advantage, poised to deliver a killing blow. Just as the blade descended, the referee intervened, stopping Adriel mid-strike. Adriel, still consumed by his battle fervor, stalked out of the stadium, leaving a shaken Keen unable to move, his body frozen by fear. The subsequent matches, while spirited, lacked the raw intensity and unsettling ferocity of Adriel's fight, concluding swiftly.
Finally, it was Kaiser's turn. He walked onto the stage, his movements calm and deliberate, as Clara approached from the opposite side, her face still etched with disdain. Hanz, his smugness reaching new heights, leaned in towards Vanfred. "This battle will last five moves, maybe less," he sneered, utterly confident in Clara's victory. Vanfred, despite his outward composure, felt a surge of doubt, his hopes for Kaiser's success dwindling.
On the arena floor, Kaiser met Clara's scornful gaze. "Come on," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips, "at least smile a little. I'm tired of looking at that face." Clara, incensed by his insolence, charged forward, her sword raised. To everyone's astonishment, Kaiser tossed his own sword into the air, his hands beginning to move with incredible speed, forming intricate hand signs. Hanz erupted in laughter. "He's even giving up!" he scoffed, nudging Vanfred. Vanfred, however, had seen the hand signs. Just as Clara closed the distance, Kaiser unleashed a blast of fire, a torrent of heat erupting from his hands.
A collective gasp swept through the arena. The three elders, the audience, the masters, and even the disciples – everyone was stunned. They had never witnessed magic, not in this sacred space dedicated to the sword. Kaiser, with fluid grace, caught his descending sword and charged, placing the cold steel against Clara's neck. Clara, her eyes wide with shock, whispered, "How? How did you do it?"
"Referee," Kaiser stated, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. The referee, snapping out of his trance, quickly declared, "And the winner is Kaiser!" Kaiser looked at Clara, his gaze intense. "I am more than just a sword," he declared, before turning and walking away, leaving a bewildered Clara and a stunned audience in his wake.
Hanz, his face a mask of disbelief and rage, quickly found his voice. "Elders!" he exclaimed, his voice shrill, "This is a sword ceremony! He can't use magic!" The First Elder, his expression unreadable, calmly responded, "Magic is prohibited, however, he did not use magic." Hanz, sputtering, tried to argue, "Even though it's not mag—"
"It is not magic," Kaiser interrupted, his voice firm, "it's sorcery."
Hanz, livid, whirled on Kaiser. "You are not allowed to speak when I am talking to the elders!"
Vanfred stepped forward, his voice a low growl. "And you are not allowed to speak to my disciple like that!"
The Second Elder, known for his booming voice, intervened. "Calm down!" he commanded, his voice echoing across the arena.
Hanz, still seething, turned back to the elders. "Elder, even though it's not magic, it's still using elements, which cannot be used!"
The First Elder considered Hanz's point. Kaiser, sensing the elder's hesitation, spoke again. "First Elder, it seems Master Hanz is ill-informed about my sorcery."
"Care to explain?" the First Elder prompted, his gaze fixed on Kaiser.
"As you know," Kaiser began, his explanation clear and concise, "spirit arts are used to manipulate the environment, which allows us to detect and track our enemies. My sorcery similarly manipulates the environment to create a particular attack that mimics magic. If today you ban sorcery here, you would also have to ban spirit arts."
The First Elder nodded slowly. "Yes, that's true. Everyone has different ways of how they use their power. Sorcery is legal under the rules."
Hanz, unwilling to concede defeat, persisted. "But Elder, we can't do this! Otherwise, our Sword City Nadaka will be filled with sorcery!"
"No," Kaiser corrected, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement, "the word you are looking for is 'wizards and witches.' And for this answer, it's no. As long as Sword City Nadaka won't open its mind towards the possibilities of other powers, it won't progress."
The First Elder, after a moment of contemplation, made his decision. "Hanz," he declared, his voice firm, "your decision is overruled."
Vanfred, unable to resist, let out a triumphant snicker. "First my disciple overruled you, then beat your disciple, then overruled you again. At least have a little shame and back away now." Hanz's face flushed a deep crimson, and with a furious glare, he stormed away from the arena.
The next match began, a young boy facing Kaiser. The boy charged forward, his intention clear: to prevent Kaiser from completing any hand signs. However, Kaiser, without making any visible hand signs, unleashed a powerful wind blast that sent the boy sprawling. Before he could recover, Kaiser had his sword at his neck. The referee, barely containing his surprise, declared, "The winner is Kaiser!" The First Elder, his curiosity piqued, remarked, "I have to ask him about this sorcery."
The following match pitted Kaiser against a girl who wisely maintained her distance, fearing his elemental attacks. But Kaiser, ever adaptable, quickly closed the distance, engaging her with his pure sword technique. The girl, her concentration fractured by the constant fear of a sudden wind blast, was unable to fully focus on her own attacks. Kaiser, relying solely on his exceptional swordsmanship, swiftly defeated her.
Finally, the grand finale arrived: Adriel vs. Kaiser. As Kaiser stepped onto the stage, a roar erupted from the crowd. "Adriel! Adriel! Kill him! Show him how strong the sword is! Make him pay!" Adriel, brimming with his characteristic arrogance, charged forward. Kaiser, equally determined, met him head-on, their swords clashing with a resounding clang.
Mid-clash, Kaiser unleashed a wind blast, sending Adriel staggering backwards. Adriel, his face contorted into a manic grin, charged again. Kaiser dodged, but Adriel's blade grazed his cheek, leaving a thin cut. Adriel, still grinning maniacally, looked at Kaiser's back. Kaiser turned, and now, his own face mirrored Adriel's chilling expression.
Both charged, their swords colliding in a furious dance of steel. Kaiser, seizing an opening, unleashed another wind blast, sending Adriel tumbling to the ground. As Kaiser moved to deliver the final blow, Adriel, with surprising agility, rolled to the side and sprang back to his feet. Kaiser pressed his attack, locking his sword against Adriel's. Adriel used his sword to push Kaiser back, then attempted an uppercut. Kaiser countered with a swift side cut. Both attacks were poised to be fatal when, with a sudden intervention, the referee abruptly stopped the fight.
"This is a draw!" the referee announced, his voice echoing across the now-silent arena.
Adriel, his pride wounded, refused to accept the outcome. "Let us finish it!" he demanded, his voice trembling with frustrated rage.
"We are finished, and you will abide by the rules," the referee stated firmly.
"Fine, fine," Adriel conceded, though his voice was laced with resentment. "Nandaka is just a stepping stone for me after all. However, I clearly won." With that, Adriel stalked away, still fuming.
The First Elder, addressing the gathered crowd, announced, "This year, no one won, so no one will get anything. However, ranks have been decided."
Vanfred, a proud smile on his face, walked to Kaiser's side. "But didn't it end in a draw?" Kaiser asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"A draw is not considered a win," Vanfred explained, his hand resting on Kaiser's shoulder.
"Fine," Kaiser conceded, accepting the outcome.
The First Elder then turned his gaze to Kaiser. "And Kaiser," he declared, his voice resonating with authority, "you are selected. I want you and Vanfred to come with me."