Apples and Semifinal

Even though we made it to the 2nd round.. victory didn’t solve the sweating problem.

I wish it had. I really do. But apparently dragons have the heat management of an oven left on overnight.

I tried everything. Cooling enchantments. Anti-sweat runes. A whole line of enchanted towels that advertised "instant freshness." Spoiler: none of them survived five minutes. I even tried powdering the dragon’s forehead with flour once.

Nothing worked.

Except apples.

See, this dragon apparently hates apples. With passion. One time, during training, I tossed him one out of pity – thinking, you know, maybe my big boy will enjoy a healthy snack. Instead, he stomped it into paste so violently it left a crater in the field. My dad’s credit card is still paying for the repairs.

So now, apples are my secret weapon. Whenever the talisman falls off, I wave one like a matador teasing a bull. He instantly forgets everything else – the crowd, the match, the laws of physics – and goes for the fruit. He focuses on pulverizing it instead of the stands.

100% safe?.. well i dont know.. guess time will tell.

At least I haven’t been roasted alive yet, which, statistically speaking, is a win.

—---------------

As the tournament went on, our reputation grew faster than I could come up with new lies. The Monster Kickers were suddenly the talk of the school.

"Did you see that dragon?"
"Is it true their harpy defender sleeps standing up?"

"Bro, imagine if the dragon sneezes mid-match"
"He'd vaporize the referee!"

Nobody asked the real question though – how I, Kael, managed to tame all these creatures with zero visible magic. And I certainly wasn’t about to tell them.

By the semifinals, even the faculty were my fanboys. Professors, nobles, even the headmaster himself. Mira sat in the front row, arms crossed, that same skeptical look on her face as always.

I ignored her. Sort of. Okay, I tried to ignore her while panicking internally. Because if we both made it to the finals, she’d see right through me.

But first, the semifinals.

Our opponents: the Knightmare Squad – a team of armored centaurs and a golem goalie roughly the size of a Tesla Cybertruck.. just in length btw.

The match was brutal. The centaurs outran us like we were standing still, and the golem blocked shots like it had personal beef with the concept of fun. Sweat dripped down my back as I yelled orders that no one could hear over the chaos.

And then – of course..

Plop.

The talisman fell off again.

This time, right as the dragon was mid-air, about to slam the ball.

He froze. Eyes wild, throat glowing. The crowd screamed.

Think fast, Kael.

I hurled an apple straight at the ball.

The dragon roared, kicked, and crushed both apple and ball in one explosive strike. The shattered ball shot forward like a comet, tearing through the air, straight into the net.

Silence. Then –

“GOOOAL!” the magically amplified gnome announcer screamed. “What power! What… questionable technique!”

The crowd lost its collective mind.

We won. Barely. 2–1. And I added "dragon-induced heart failure" to my growing list of health concerns.

After the match, I barely had time to catch my breath before Mira cornered me again. She always had this habit of appearing out of nowhere.

"You’re hiding something," she said flatly. "That’s not magic. No spell reacts like that."

I forced out an awkward laugh. "Oh, come on. You think I’m cheating? Me? The most honest student in this entire academy?"

Her eyebrow twitched. "I think you’re lying."

My smile wavered. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it. If she found out I was a fraud, I was done. Expelled. Toast. Possibly literally – she was a fire specialist.

But then she sighed and crossed her arms, the suspicion softening into something unreadable. "Still… your team’s amazing." Her tone shifted, calm but certain. "Good luck in the finals."

Then she turned and walked away, just like that – like she already knew she’d win her own semifinal match.

I stood there, staring after her, half-impressed and half-terrified.

Was that encouragement? Or a threat wrapped in polite grammar?

Either way… the finals awaited.