Demonstration

The fight against Roderick went more or less as I had predicted. We weren't trading blows frantically, it felt more like a test of patience and persistence. He was indeed an impenetrable wall. Every attack I launched was absorbed by earthen shields that rose from the ground as if they were an extension of him.

Lyra's strategy was solid, but maintaining it required exhausting precision.

I wasn't trying to break him. I was trying to find a crack. I manipulated the threads in the soil, trying to create small ruptures and instability at his feet, but he didn't even budge, as if his roots went too deep.

But I didn't give up. I kept attacking, remembering our conversation in the corridor. I wasn't fighting a monster, but the promise he had made to himself.

To my surprise, over time, he started counter-attacking. They were rare but devastating, until I noticed a pattern. The runes on his armor flashed less intensely each time he was forced to reconstruct his defense. He was strong, but his magic, as Nina predicted, consumed a scary amount of energy.

So I decided to change tactics. Instead of an obvious attack on the ground, I focused on small explosions in quick succession, one after the other, forcing him to constantly readjust. It was like I was digging holes with a spoon, slowly. Fatigue began to show on his face. He still stood firm, but little by little, he was being exposed.

Until, at one moment, our eyes met. Just as I knew he was at his limit, he also realized I was at mine. But I maintained my determination, and in a fraction of a second, I saw him waver. And that was enough.

With a final effort, I used the threads with what little energy I had left, not for an isolated attack, but focused directly beneath his feet, making the soil tremble. It wasn't enough to knock him down, but it was enough to break his concentration for an instant. And then his earthen shield dissipated.

I lunged forward, and my sword stopped inches from his chest.

The arena, which had been in complete suspense, erupted in applause. Roderick was panting, looking at the sword and then at me. He didn't look angry, he seemed... relieved.

"A crack in the wall," he said, his voice hoarse but calm. "Well played, Haru."

"Thank you for the fight, Roderick."

***

The victory brought a wave of recognition across the school, but it was different from the first time. People weren't looking at me with curiosity about a rookie, but as a true competitor.

After that, strange things began to happen to those remaining in the tournament.

The first thing was when the bulletin board was updated. My next opponent was supposed to be a third-year student named Leon. I didn't know much about him, only that he was a water magic specialist. But when I went to try and look for him, maybe to watch a practice session, Darin found me first, his face pale.

"Haru! Did you see? Leon dropped out."

"Dropped out? Why?"

"No one knows for sure. They said he suffered an injury during practice, but... well, it's the third drop-out this week."

Three competitors had suddenly withdrawn. The excuses varied. Family illness, injuries, and personal reasons. But it was a pattern too obvious to be a coincidence. I felt my stomach clench. Someone was clearing the path.

When I went to ask Lyra if she knew anything, she became serious.

"I've heard rumors," she said, lowering her voice. "They say it's one of the competitors. Someone who doesn't want to meet strong opponents until the final stages."

"Who would have the power to force others to quit?"

"Power, or perhaps intimidation," she replied, her eyes narrowed. "And there's one name going around... Lobo."

Lobo. He was a year ahead, from a distant kingdom, and had advanced in the tournament with a series of quick, brutal victories. They said his opponents barely managed to raise their weapons before being defeated.

As the days passed, more competitors withdrew, and the finals were moved up. I still hadn't seen this Lobo guy, but I felt I was getting closer and closer to an encounter with him, even if I didn't want it.

And the opportunity came sooner than I imagined. On the night before the quarter-final matchups, I was walking through the school gardens toward my dorm. That's when I saw him.

He was alone, standing near the fountain, watching the water. Unlike Roderick, who emanated a solid presence, Lobo seemed... empty. He wore simple, dark clothes. His hair was silver, and his eyes were a pale blue, almost white. He wasn't moving. He was just there, and the air around him felt colder.

He slowly turned his head, as if he had sensed my presence. His gaze didn't have Roderick's warmth of challenge or Kael's hatred. It was like being observed by an ice shard.

"Haru."

"Lobo."

A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. It wasn't a smile of joy or friendship. It was the smile of someone who had just confirmed a hypothesis.

"I'm looking forward to our confrontation," he said, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe, analyzing, dissecting. "You defeated the Stone Wall. Interesting. Most quit before they even try."

That's when I understood. The drop-outs weren't just about avoiding tough fights. It was about power. Lobo was sending a message, not just to me, but to everyone. He was the predator, and the tournament was his hunting ground.

"It looks like you've made your path easier and easier."

"Easy?" He gave a dry laugh. "I'm just... pruning the weak branches. The tournament should be a trial of the strongest, not a lottery. You, at least, seem to have some potential."

"And I don't plan on quitting, either."

He maintained his posture, putting his hands into his pockets. "That's what I'm talking about. But before you make any rash decisions. How about a demonstration?"

Before I could say anything else, he extended his right hand, and the air seemed to warp around him. It wasn't like the threads I knew, but as if he were manipulating the darkness into the palm of his hand. Then, a sinister, jagged blade, made of solid shadow itself, materialized in his hand.

He didn't attack, he just held the blade, maintaining his challenging stare. It was as if he were inviting me, waiting for my reaction before taking any action.

But I couldn't move. Even though I tried, I couldn't. I thought about pulling the crystal from my pocket, preparing in case of an attack, but my body didn't respond to my mind. Lobo exuded a penetrating aura. He seemed to manipulate not only the threads to create a weapon, but also the environment itself. Capable of changing even what we were supposed to feel, because I couldn't act as usual, I only felt fear.

While I remained frozen in that heavy air, Lobo merely smiled. He held the blade awkwardly, like someone holding a butter knife, as if he didn't need to use it at all. He knew that the aura alone would be enough to win a battle.

His smile seemed to widen, becoming even more disturbing now that he saw how paralyzed I was. He took a step forward, then another. His steps made no sound, cast no shadow on the ground.

"You feel it, don't you?"

His voice was like a whisper that seemed to come from my own head. I only moved my eyes, following him as he circled me, analyzing every detail.

"The most primal instinct. The one that screams not to challenge a greater predator."

The air I breathed felt like it wanted to freeze my lungs, and with his every step, the sensation worsened. It was more than simple fear, it was a certainty that this man was a real danger. That the blade he held wasn't just a dueling weapon, it was for killing.

"The smart thing to do is to listen to those instincts. Quitting isn't shame, it's... common sense. Why risk everything for a trophy? An old book? It's not worth the pain and sacrifice, much less your life."

He spoke right next to my ear, ensuring I heard those words, mixing with my thoughts, with my own doubts.

And it was so much easier to avoid exhaustion after a battle, not having to train to do well, and not feeling the constant fear of failure... it was so easy. So easy to just lower my head and retreat. My body seemed to want to respond on its own, as if a weight was pleading for me to let go of the amber crystal, to leave everything behind.

It's safer.

A voice seemed to whisper inside me, just as strange as the man's voice.

He's right.

My hand in my pocket loosened its grip on the stone. My shoulders began to relax. A sigh of surrender rose in my throat. I was going to... I was going to...

And then, like a lighthouse illuminating the densest fog at sea, my sister's face appeared. The sound of her muffled laughter when I played with her, her happiness when winning a duel in Duck Champions. The promise I made to her when she was so small.

It wasn't just a grimoire, just any tournament. It was the only thing I had. The thing keeping me from despair. My last hope.

The feeling of surrender died in my throat, strangled by feelings even more powerful.

Lobo's empty gaze shifted, I knew he had seen something in my eyes. What he wanted so badly was dissipating before him, replaced by something he didn't expect.

My body, which had been frozen, now slowly broke through that ice. My hand came out of my pocket without hesitation, gripping the crystal, which shone so intensely and golden that it could illuminate the entire world.

The air crackled. The light took form, weaving the threads. First the hilt, then the blade, forming the threads of power that were my sword.

I raised it, assuming a combat stance. The tip trembled slightly, but it wasn't pointing at the ground, it was pointing at the man in front of me.

"I expected you to be smarter."

I just laughed. My fear had evaporated. All I could feel then was the weight of the sword in my hand, ready for whatever happened.

Then he regained his serious, calculating expression. The feigned smile completely disappeared. A cold, sharp interest ignited in his pale eyes.

His demonstration was over.

Now, the promise was of something much more intense.

And I would not back down.