Round two began at sunset the next day.

I arrived early for watching the pre-match preparations from the competitor section. The underground arena had grown even more crowded as word of last night's fights had spread, and now easily three hundred students packed the stone seats. Some had probably skipped classes to be here.

The betting pools had gotten serious too. I'd overheard someone placing five thousand gold on Seraphina to win the whole tournament. Different bets were flying around.

My odds against Kaeel were listed at 3-to-2. Almost even. The bookmakers gave me a slight edge based on advantage, but Kaeel reputation as Shadowgrove's captain made it close.

"Nervous?" Isabella sat down beside me, dressed in practical traveling clothes rather than her usual elegant attire. She'd brought a notebook and was sketching the arena layout.

"Why would I be nervous?"

"Because your opponent knows about the cycles and she might be testing you for some unknown group. Because if you reveal too much, you could paint an even bigger target on your back." She didn't look up from her sketching. "Just guessing."

"You're getting better at this."

"I've been spending time with Lucille. It rubs off." Isabella finally met my eyes. "Be careful today. Something feels off about this whole tournament."

"Off how?"

"Too many strong fighters. Too many people from outside the academy." Isabella's voice dropped.

I nodded and thanked her. It's a sound advice after all.

Match One: Some Random A-Rank vs Another Random A-Rank

It was a standard fight, there were competent but unremarkable, with the winner advancing.

Match Two: Marcus (Support Division).

Marcus's competition was different from the others, there are three enchanters working simultaneously in a side chamber, each creating combat enchantments under time pressure. The results would be tested on training dummies.

I couldn't watch directly, but the magical monitors showed his progress. He was in second place after thirty minutes, working on some kind of multi-layered defensive charm.

"He's doing well," Ravenna observed. She'd been studying his technique. "That's a tricky binding he's attempting. If it works, it'll redirect kinetic force back at the attacker."

"If it works?"

"If it doesn't, it'll explode and disqualify him."

"That's Marcus in a nutshell." I replied dryly.

Match Three: Seraphina vs Fire Mage (Round Two).

And... she went for another dominant performance. The fire mage was S-rank, and legitimately strong. He conjured walls of flame, created a burning tornado, even managed to scorch Seraphina's armor.

But she walked through it all.

Holy light surrounded her, forming a barrier that turned fire to harmless sparks. When she finally got close enough, one strike of her holy blade shattered every defensive spell the mage had prepared.

He yielded before the second strike could land.

"Winner! Seraphina Valorheart!"

The crowd's reaction was mixed, awe at her power, but also unease. She was too strong. Too perfect. It made people uncomfortable.

"She's going to make enemies," Lucille commented.

"She already has," I said. "But she doesn't care."

"Good. She shouldn't."

Match Four! Vic Ironheart vs Hooded Figure!

Yes, that's exactly what they called him 'Hooded Figure'. Combatants can go for being totally anonymous, although, most people want to use their real self to boast their standing.

I sat up and my eyes focused on the stage sharply. I am more interested in this match than the others. I know the do called League must have entered the academy already and they're using disguise to play with me...even the dead guard was nothing but a trap to announce themselves.

And this Vic Ironheart... isn't she??

She's the armored woman I saw the day before.

This was the one everyone had been waiting for.

Victoria....Vic entered the pit first. Up close, she was imposing, six feet tall, wearing full plate armor that somehow didn't seem to slow her at all. Her face was stern, ageless in a way that was hard to define. She could've been thirty or three hundred. Or Sixteen.

The hooded figure drifted in like smoke. Still no clear view of their face, but the living shadow around them had grown more pronounced. It writhed and twisted, forming shapes that hurt to look at directly.

The referee gave the signal.

"Begin!"

The hooded figure struck first. Shadow tendrils lashed out, each moving independently, each sharp enough to pierce steel, cracking through the air like bladed whip.

But Victoria didn't dodge.

She raised one armored hand.

The shadows hit an invisible barrier three feet from her body and simply... stopped. Frozen in mid-air.

"Interesting technique," Victoria said, her voice carrying clearly despite the crowd noise. "Shadow manipulation with semi-autonomous control. You must be from a Void mage liliage."

The hooded figure hissed, actually hissed, like a serpent and redoubled the attack.

More shadows, dozens, hundreds of tendrils that darkned the space around him, all striking from different angles, moving faster than the eye could follow.

Victoria remained motionless.

But yet again, the barrier held against everything.

"Are you done?" Victoria asked flatly again.

The hooded figure snarled something in a language I didn't recognize.

Then Victoria moved.

One step forward. Just one.

The air pressure in the arena changed. I felt it even in the stands, a wave of pure power that made my teeth ache and my skin to tighten.

The hooded figure's shadows disintegrated as if it was wiped away.

Victoria's next step closed half the distance. The hooded figure tried to retreat but stumbled and fell.

"Yield," Victoria said.

It was not a question, but rather a nonchalant command.

The hooded figure raised trembling hands in surrender.

Wi...wnner! Victoria Ironheart!

The crowd was silent. Then someone started clapping, and it spread until the entire arena roared.

Victoria didn't acknowledge it. She just walked back to her section, sat down, and began cleaning her gauntlets like nothing had happened.

"What rank do you think she really is?" Marcus whispered.

"I don't know...but," I said quietly. "Much higher. And likely not in an easy tier."

Match Five through Seven: Various Competent Fights.

The tournament continued. Strong fighters all, but nothing compared to what we'd just witnessed.

Then the referee called my match.

"Competitor forty-seven! Hadeon Ravana! Competitor eighteen! Kaeel Nightwhisper!"

Time to dance.

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