Two days had passed since I was kidnapped by Princess Munith. And now, the day of the duel had finally come.

I sat at opposite ends of the arena, sandwiched between my friends and classmates, respectively.

The arena floor below was still empty. The sand had been freshly leveled and all. The contestants were still preparing themselves beyond the gates. All in all, the floor below looked unnaturally calm.

Up here, though, the stands were anything but calm.

Students packed the spectator seats shoulder-to-shoulder. Not quite sardine-can levels of cramped, but close enough that every cheer, whisper, and chatter echoed endlessly into my ears.

All this from a duel between two first-years…

A duel between mageswas so rare that it became basically an event in and of itself. Honestly, I understood now why the instructor wasted no time turning Mirabelle’s challenge into a full-on spectacle.

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Eveliana asked, leaning forward in her seat, eyes locked on the arena gates. “Do you think Mirabelle will win?”

Villius cleared his throat behind me. “I say that’s likely, considering the difference in experience. The commoner student just joined this week, right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s a hidden prodigy or something,” Kyro added. “What do you think, Clarissa?” he said, turning to the timid girl sitting beside him.

“I’m… mostly here to see the magic…”

Kyro and the others went silent, nodding slightly. Clearly, this was their true goal of coming here, same as most of the students here, I presumed.

“You’ve seen her cast magic, haven’t you, Lady Carine?” Villius asked. “Do you think Mirabelle has the advantage?”

Of course she has!

“It’s hard to say…”

As Mirabelle’s friend, I really should’ve cheered for her like most of the students here. But, I also didn’t want to see Ricent being absolutely demolished…

On the other end of the stands, a classmate of mine sat next to me.

“Hey, Feyt. That Ricent guy is your friend, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, he is.”

“Ohhh,” he said, drawing it out with a grin. “Must be nice, having a mage friend, huh?”

“How so?”

“Well, you get to hang around a mage, that’s how! I bet he shows off some spells to you, right?”

I let out a small scoff.

If only he knew…

I turned to look at Attila, who sat to my right. She was completely silent, but also shaking with excitement. Her eyes were glued to the gates, waiting for them to open.

Best leave her be…

Compared to how I was treated like a princess as Carine by my classmates, I was treated much more warmly as Feyt.

They joked with me. Complained about assignments with me. Argued about answers to the pop quiz. Sometimes they even dragged me into small talk just to kill time before class. Thanks to that, I was able to blend right in.

Though, if I was being honest, the sudden surge of friendliness after classes probably had more to do with the giant “Sixth place” next to my name on the ranking board that day.

I shifted my focus back to the arena.

At first, I was terrified.

What if Ricent messed up? What if he got seriously hurt?

But now, my chest felt lighter. Only a little, though.

I had already done everything I could. All that was left was trusting him.

I leaned forward slightly, mirroring Attila, eyes fixed on the arena entrance gate.

Do your best, Ricent!

—

Ricent stood in the preparation room just beyond the arena gates.

The space was small and dimly lit. Stone walls. A single bench. A weapons rack. It felt like a small barrack. The distant roar of the crowd echoing through the metal gate made Ricent realize just how many people this school had.

An instructor stood in front of him, arms holding out a paper, expression sharp, voice sharp as she explained the arena rules.

He tried his best to listen, but all he could think about was Feyt’s training.

At first, he found it hard. No matter how he tried, he never seemed to produce any result. He felt bad for Feyt, who spent countless nights just training him.

He was thinking of cancelling the match altogether, since the instructor did say he could do that…

But the last two days, Feyt suddenly turned confident. He started teaching like he knew everything he needed to do. Though progress wasn’t showing the first time, by the next day, Ricent felt like he could do it.

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That night ended with actual progress; a spell was formed. It was a small one, barely stable at all, but it was a real spell.

He and Feyt had shouted and celebrated until their voices grew hoarse, then nearly passed out from sheer exhaustion on the training field.

But… even Ricent knew the truth.

That spell alone wouldn’t be enough against Mirabelle.

He had seen how much better she was at casting spells himself. She had learned probably two or three spells already, and each one was far bigger than the one he had cast last night.

But after everything Feyt had done for him, Ricent knew he couldn’t just give up.

He wanted to stand up.

He wanted to try.

Even if he’d lose, he would try.

“—And lastly,” the instructor said, pulling him back to reality, “do not, under any circumstances, direct your attacks at the crowd. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Ricent snapped into a straight salute, mirroring how other students had reacted to their instructors.

“Good. Wait until the bells ring and the gates open. Then proceed into the arena.”

“Okay, ma’am!”

She turned on her heels and made her way to the exit. She paused at the doorway, glancing back.

“And one more thing. Be careful. We usually have someone in charge of stopping things before they go too far, but she’s away right now, so don’t be afraid to concede before things got worse.”

Ricent blinked, then nodded.

“Understood, ma’am!”

The instructor finally left, leaving Ricent all alone. Suddenly, the room felt more empty, yet also louder.

He exhaled slowly, trying to remember what Feyt told him this morning.

Remember the chant.

Remember the meaning.

“For the tides shall be our spear.

For the tides shall be our shield…”

Ricent frowned, slightly tilting his head.

Why a spear?

And why a shield?

And what does tide mean?

The spell [Piercing Water], as Feyt and Miss Cornellia had explained it, was a spell that creates a stream of water that shoots straight.

So… if the water shoots straight? It’s… kind of like throwing a stick, right?

It was something he did back at home, whenever he was bored. Picking up dead branches, finding the straightest one, then competing with the other kids to see who could throw it the farthest into the lake.

His eyes slowly drifted to a spear, being held horizontally by a weapon rack standing across from him.

So… it’s like throwing a stick, but a spear?

Before he could think further, the bell finally rang.

The gate groaned to life, opening slowly, letting bright light to seep in through its cracks.

The sound of the crowd, their cheers, their shouting, all flowed at once inside.

Ricent stood up and rolled his arms, a wide smile on his face.

—

The arena swelled with noise. Cheers, chatters, yells, all echoed endlessly.

The metal gates finally opened fully, stopping with a loud thump. Two figures stepped onto the sands below.

Ricent, wearing the standard issue academy uniform for mages.

Mirabelle, wearing a seemingly new, fine red dress.

She actually went through with wearing a dress??!

They emerged from opposite gates, walking forward at a steady pace. The vast stretch of arena floor between them shrank step by step, the crowd refused to quiet.

Another bell rang, and both of them stopped.

A voice boomed across the arena, likely amplified by some artifact, clear enough to rattle through my chest as it formally announced the duelists.

From where I sat, I could already see Mirabelle’s smug smile. Chin high. Shoulders loose. Like she was already sure of the outcome. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her. She really had a massive advantage here.

Ricent, on the other hand… He was looking down. One hand held his chin, brows slightly furrowed, like he was still trying to think of what to eat for dinner.

With Feyt’s ears, I could hear him mumble slightly.

“A spear… And it unites…”

Hey! Put your head in the game man! The bell’s about to ring at any moment!

The only way he could show that he tried… was to cast the spell first. Anything after, Mirabelle would’ve overwhelmed him.

The announcer’s voice cut through the noise again.

“Prepare for the start of the duel.”

The arena quieted just enough for the countdown to echo clearly in the air.

“Three.”

My hearts slammed against my ribs.

“Two.”

Ricent still hadn’t moved.

“One.”

Mirabelle took a stance.

“Begin!”

Mirabelle stretched her hand out and began her chant.

She went first!

I turned to look at Ricent, hoping he would chant faster than her, only to find him still pondering about god-knows-what.

“Ricent, Move!!” I instinctively shouted as Feyt.

I didn’t know if he actually heard me or not, but he flicked his head up finally. But when he did, a small but fierce fireball was already on its way.

He quickly jumped to the side, narrowly dodging the fireball. The fireball struck the iron gates behind him, singeing the metal black.

“Hmph,” I heard Mirabelle scoff. “You’d best just give up now, before one of my spells actually hits you. You wouldn’t want to bother the Saint with healing you, don’t you?”

Ricent shook his head. “I can’t do that. Feyt put his trust in me, even trained me all this time. I can’t just let it all go to waste!”

He thrust his hand forward.

“Hmph!” Mirabelle scoffed once more. “Don’t bluff. You don’t have a spell, don’t you? You could barely follow the first steps of a chant the last time we met in class.”

As Ricent opened his mouth, Mirabelle froze with her eyes wide.

“For the tides shall be our spear.

For the tides shall be our shield—!”

“—Wait, when did you—?!”

The world seemed to darken. The crowd’s noise slowly lowering.

“From scattered drops, it waits to rise.

United as one, it shall strike—!!”

Mirabelle frowned and prepared to cast a spell of her own.

Then—

“—[Piercing Water]!!!!”

A pool of water began to flow from the ground, from the air, and from nowhere. Little by little, it began to spiral into one point, forming a singular cylindrical shape in front of Ricent’s palm. It grew to the thickness of an arm, forming what looked like a tree branch, before straightening and forming a sharp edge at the end, resembling a spear.

All at once, the instructors around the arena rushed forward, yelling.

But before anyone could react, it shot forward. The impact of the shot sent shockwaves all the way through the crowds, blowing Ricent back into the air.

My hearts sank.

I rose from my seat and yelled. “Mirabelle, watch out!!”

Through Carine’s eyes, I saw Mirabelle throw herself backward, landing hard as the water spear screamed past her head.

A heartbeat later, it struck the wall beside the gate.

The explosion that followed shook the entire arena. The ground trembled beneath our feet as a deafening boom rolled through the stands.

Then, droplets of water began falling from above. It was soft and scattered, almost like rain. Smoke and dust billowed from the point of impact, swallowing Mirabelle from view.

My chest tightened. I pushed Carine’s vision forward, straining to see through the haze, to make sure she was still alright…

As the smoke slowly thinned, Mirabelle came into view.

She was on the ground, trembling, clutching her head. Her hair clung to her face, her dress soaked through.

“W-W-W-Wha… My dress… My hair…”

A trembling sighs of relief escaped the both of me.

At least she was alive…

…Then why was it so quiet?

The crowd wasn’t cheering. No one was talking. The instructors weren’t shouting anymore.

All of them were staring… staring at the cloud of dust behind her.

Slowly, my eyes followed their gazes… past Mirabelle… past the arena floor… then, towards the wall beside the gate.

However…

The wall…

It was gone.

A massive hole had been blasted clean through it. Beyond the arena, carved deep into the academy grounds, lay a crater large enough to swallow a building whole.

The entire arena fell into stunned silence.

Only the frantic shouts of instructors and staff remained, echoing as they ordered everyone to evacuate before the damaged wall gave way completely.

Staring at the absence of the wall, coupled with students on the stands above it running and panicking, I thought to myself…

Is this… the power of knowing a chant’s meaning?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep