Neal's pupils vanished, leaving behind only glowing white eyes as an eerie silence fell across the platform. His radiant blue eyes had become ghostly pale, his once golden hair bleached to silver-white in seconds. Then came the flames.
Not ordinary fire. White flames erupted from his skin, blazing without heat but radiating tremendous pressure. It was as though divinity itself was leaking out of Neal's pores, the very essence of his class Solari Imperials manifested in full force.
Kaelen's jaw dropped.
"Oh what's going on?" he asked himself.
Then he looked towards Jered but he just gave him a wry smile. As if saying. "You're on your own, take care."
The figure standing before him bathed in ghostly fire, eyes devoid of humanity was nothing like the Neal he knows of, the kid he often bullied.
No, this was something else.
Something divine. Something terrifying.
Kaelen instinctively took a half-step back, but stopped himself. He clenched his fists, his gaze hardening.
"I can't lose. Not here."
He tried to muster up every courage he had, not intending to show his cowardly side to the crowd.
Then he taunts the other guy.
"Bring it on, sassy boy."
Neal was used to this hateful kid's taunts but it still irritates him every time.
Kaelen, now readying himself, concentrates his mana into his hands and feets strengthening himself.
His mana was not explosive. Instead, it flowed steadily and methodically throughout.his body like flowing ki in martial artists. He channeled it through his arms,his legs and across his spine.
Unlike Neal's overwhelming aura, Kaelen's power didn't scream.
But whispered control, precision and intent.
With the help of his passive skill Third Eye. His perception sharpened. He could feel the vibrations of the platform beneath his feet, the minute shifts in Neal's posture, even the faint hum of residual mana clinging to the air.
Neal spoke, his voice distorted, reverberating with ethereal resonance.
"Come."
Kaelen didn't wait.
He launched forward, his feet digging into the platform, his mana weaving into his muscles. He twisted his hips and threw the first punch.
Neal didn't dodge.
Baam!
Kaelen's fist collided with Neal's jaw. The blow was fast, faster than most novices could see but Neal didn't even flinch.
Kaelen followed up with a flurry.
One punch. Two punches. A sweeping kick. A palm strike. An elbow.
The strikes rained down one after the other relentlessly with precision and coordination. Each infused with mana, each timed for maximum efficiency. He was moving like a seasoned martial artist, not a mere level 3 cleric.
Neal stepped back once, then once more, fending off most of the blows with his arms. But he wasn't striking back.
Kaelen didn't give him a chance.
He leapt into the air and came down with a spinning kick, slamming Neal across the shoulder.
Neal slid back a few meters, his bare feet screeching against the platform.
The crowd gasped.
"He's… actually landing hits!" someone shouted.
"Is that really a caster?" another whispered.
Kaelen exhaled. Sweat dripped from his chin.
He wasn't slowing down.
With the help of his Third Eye, Kaelen had identified the moments Neal's flames weakened for a fraction of a second during transitions between breaths, during shifts of footing. He had capitalized on those moments, marking every touch with traces of his mana.
He wasn't just attacking.
He was planting.
With every punch, every contact, Kaelen was leaving behind thin threads of mana residue that clung to Neal's body like invisible ink.
Still, Neal hadn't even attacked yet.
Kaelen dashed again. This time, a corkscrew uppercut. Neal tilted his head, and Kaelen's knuckles scraped his cheek, leaving a faint burn.
Then a sudden counter.
A palm strike.
Neal's hand met Kaelen's sternum.
Kaelen's body flew backwards, spinning three times in mid-air before slamming into the ground. He coughed, blood splashing across the tiles.
Jered stepped forward instinctively, but a hand stopped him, it was Teach Tashi.
"Let them fight," he said.
Kaelen groaned and stood, wiping his mouth.
"That… hurt."
Neal didn't speak. His white flames licked the air, and now he began walking.
Kaelen grit his teeth. He rotated his shoulders and entered a stance again with a low center of gravity, arms in a cross-guard.
He charged.
A new barrage followed.
High jabs, side kicks, feints, sudden shifts in footwork. He fought like a whirlwind, letting the mana guide his muscles, his reactions enhanced by the Third Eye.
He wasn't looking for one big hit.
He was looking to touch. Again. And again. And again.
Neal started blocking now. Parrying. His face remained calm, but his eyes showed confusion. "Why is this guy so weak or have I become too strong?"
"Even an ant can bite harder than this" Neal mocked his opponent
Kaelen wasn't dealing enough damage as he was just level 3 healer, without any additions stats helping him it was obvious he would be weak
And he can't use any active skills, as they have decided no to use it.
Blow after blow landed. Most glanced. Some sunk in. Some were blocked. A few even forced Neal back.
By the end of the round of his endless barrage, Kaelen had touched Neal 47 times.
47 points of contact. 47 mana residues.
The crowd was wild.
Even the teachers were leaning forward.
Kaelen took a deep breath and smiled. His fists were trembling, but his stance was firm.
He had survived the first stage. The white flame god hadn't struck him down yet.
But he knew what was coming.
And he was ready.