Staring down at the raging elements in the arena, Nick did his best to ignore Eona's stare as it drilled into his temple.

Saying that the girl hadn't taken her loss well was an understatement. Not because she was a sore loser, as he might have feared, but because she felt she hadn't done enough to truly challenge him.

Nick had tried to explain that he needed to develop a whole new spell to win, but that only made her even angrier. Apparently, having the time and wherewithal to go through the difficult process of spellcrafting during a fight meant he was even more superior than she first thought.

Admittedly, Nick could have ended the fight very quickly if he'd used the big guns. Hell, he probably could have just bound her with ofudas, especially considering all the new spellforms he'd been learning from Tholm's library.

Yet, inspiration had struck him, and by now, he was an old hand at improvising on the spot. Some of his best work arose from such moments of genius, though admittedly, this particular spell, [Crest of the Thunderbird], had been a long time in the making.

He'd just needed to slot the pieces in place.

He didn't believe that explaining that would improve anything, so he stayed quiet and watched as Penelope and Bellamy faced off.

They are surprisingly evenly matched. Bellamy still isn't giving it his all, but he's maintaining enough stone constructs that Penelope can't attack without opening herself up to immediate retaliation.

The Duke's nephew was proving to be extremely skilled in earth manipulation, especially in golem construction, a practice that required not only a high affinity but also enchanting abilities well above average.

That he could hold a dozen smaller golems in the field and control them all while summoning earthen walls to protect himself from the effects of Penelope's water jets and whips was quite impressive.

On her part, the heiress did her best to keep him pinned down and prevent his golems from reaching her by alternating great gestures that made her whips smash against the constructs, causing them to stagger back, and reusing the water to chip away at Bellamy's shield.

Overall, they had reached a deadlock, and it was becoming clearer that to win, one of them would need to take significant risks and, more importantly, expend vast amounts of mana to overcome the other.

Since these were the quarterfinals, even if they won, they would still have semifinals and finals ahead. Getting into a long, drawn-out fight now was likely to result in an immediate loss in the next round.

So, not surprisingly for anyone with a good sense of mana levels, Penelope ceased her assault.

The lull that followed was almost eerily silent, with the golems gradually repairing the cracks she had made, Bellamy still hiding behind his shield, knowing better than to give her a clear shot by peeking out, and Penelope breathing deeply as she centered herself.

Then, she opened her eyes, and all hell broke loose.

"[Tidal Wave]"

A massive surge of water burst from all directions as she burned through her mana, crashing into the arena floor and sweeping away the golems so quickly that Bellamy couldn't even order them to brace.

Damn, that's a lot of power to use at once. Her reserves aren't the most impressive in her group, but her output is quite something. I guess that's to be expected from a water mage, but there's something else at work here, if I'm not mistaken.

It wasn't exactly cheating, as far as he could tell, but Penelope was using an amulet as a focus, which was greatly boosting her ability to summon water.

Since wands, staves, and focusing rings were permitted, her amulet should fall within the remit, but it still felt somewhat cheap.

Then again, Master Lasazar always tells us that any path to victory is worth exploring, and that using what you have is just common sense, so I guess she's only demonstrating his teachings here.

It reminded Nick of his old wand. He still hadn't forgotten the sad ending it had suffered under Sashara's gentle ministrations, but now that the auction was so close and the chance of getting some orichalcum was real, he was confident he could at least get something out of it.

By the time the wave of water petered out, only Penelope was still standing. Bellamy had lasted much longer than he expected, probably out of pure spite if his pulsing annoyance was any indication, which had forced her to use nearly all her reserves in just one attack.

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"Winner, Penelope Osmond."

"She probably ruined her chances for the semifinals with that," he commented.

Tim hummed in agreement. "I suppose losing against one of her classmates within a few seconds would be less humiliating than going out against an underclassman," he said, rubbing his hand where Drusilla's bolt of lightning had struck him.

The wards had prevented any serious damage, but the aftereffects of the spell apparently weren't covered if they wouldn't cause more than annoyance, and so Tim was left with several minor burns—nothing more than what one might get from hot oil droplets splattering while frying—that he would have to endure until the class was over so he could go to the infirmary for some ointment.

Nick had offered him a health potion, as he still had nearly his entire stock from his last visit to Ogden's, but Tim was horrified at the thought of wasting such a valuable item on what was barely more than a bug bite.

"And that concludes the quarterfinals!" Lasazar exclaimed, his voice echoing through the arena. "I hope you all are enjoying this as much as I am. We will spend the next few sessions reviewing everything that happened here, so please keep your eyes open, even if you have already been eliminated. There is nothing better for your growth than being forced to face your mistakes, after all."

His chortle faded when he realized no one else was sharing in the amusement, but he quickly recovered. "Well then, let's get started with the semifinals!"

Again, fireworks—bright blue and silver bursts of color and smoke—filled the air at the man's apprentice's command, and when they dissipated, two lines made of fiery letters remained.

"Nicholas Crowley vs Willow Washer-Woodsers"

"Penelope Osmond vs Emile Lusitanie"

Tim patted him on the back, smiling encouragingly, "You gotta get to the final at this point. The blonde ponce didn't seem all that special, and with Penelope exhausted, if you win this round, you might as well have won the whole thing."

Nick grunted back. He wasn't quite as confident as his friend, given the still untouched reserves Emile possessed, and he didn't think the guy had been pushed enough to reveal anything of his real arsenal.

That makes him even more dangerous. He might have been holding back deliberately to reach the final without his opponent knowing what to expect.

Still, he had another obstacle to overcome before he could think about confronting the blonde, so Nick jumped down the bleachers, using [Air Step] to quickly reach the middle of the arena, where Willow was waiting for him.

During his time under Tholm's care, he'd come to know his fellow apprentices, and he knew that each of them was exceptional in some way.

Specifically, Willow was a prodigy at runic spellcasting.

Not, as he was familiar with, the use of runes to empower rituals or spells, but in the actual employment of runes as spells.

It was a field Nick still hadn't had much time to explore, not with all the basic theory he needed to catch up on first, but it promised to be very useful, considering what few applications he'd seen her use.

That was why he knew to be wary of her the moment Lasazar called for the match to start.

A glowing blue circle appeared beneath Willow's feet, with a jagged letter at its center. Nick saw mana wash over her and settle like a shroud, and knew that there would be no quick knockout.

Instead, he summoned his latest spell, almost hearing a phantasmal screech as [Crest of the Thunderbird] materialized.

From the look in Willow's eyes, she rightly saw his actions as a challenge, but she didn't take the bait.

Instead, three more runes appeared in the air in front of her, and flashes of light shot from them, smashing into his golden dome with enough force to keep him pinned inside.

Unfortunately for her, [Crest of the Thunderbird] behaved differently than most other shield spells. Instead of just absorbing, tanking, or redirecting the mana it came into contact with, it dissipated it into the ether.

It was essentially the full defensive might of a divine beast, expressed through his mortal [Arcane Circuits]. No single spell she could muster without extensive preparation would be enough to break it, and trying to overwhelm it with sheer volume would backfire since the conceptual defense simply ignored anything weak.

Thus, Orion finally had time to set up. Choosing to play a bit on his growing reputation as an arrogant prodigy, he used a wind blade to carve a series of symbols into the ground, transforming what he would have normally painted on a scroll into an earthbound artwork.

Willow noticed because she was Tholm's pupil and he had taught her better than to lose battlefield awareness, so she gnashed her teeth.

Her three glowing runes vanished a moment later, merging into a single, massive one above her head. Soon after, fireballs started raining down on the battlefield, trying to interfere with his preparations.

Nick smirked and activated his spell.

Crimson bindings of sealing mana burst from the circle, targeting not her, as she had feared, but what was beneath her.

The protective rune that had kept anyone she faced so far from touching her even once flickered for a moment before being broken by the seal, and soon, its glow faded. As a result, Willow was left undefended.

To her credit, she immediately switched to full assault, pushing her fire rune to its maximum and unleashing large bursts of flames at Nick in an attempt to buy time, but it was too late.

Whatever assault she could muster wouldn't be enough to break through [Crest of the Thunderbird], and now that she was exposed, it was a simple matter for him to summon a barrage of [Jet Streams], guiding them around the fires and slamming them into her.

Or rather, into the barrier that suddenly appeared around her, which prevented her from turning into a sieve.

"Winner, Nicholas Crowley!" Lasazar shouted over the cheers of the first years.

Though Nick wasn't exactly the most well-liked or gregarious, it was clear they didn't appreciate being eliminated so easily by the upperclassmen, so he became their bringer of vengeance, their totem of wrath.

He raised a hand in victory, prompting another round of cheers, then went to rejoin them after giving a wave to his opponent.

Willow dusted her clothes with an annoyed scowl but didn't complain about his strategy. It was remarkably similar to what she'd used anyway, so she couldn't say anything that wouldn't come across as childish whining.

Still, I know she will be annoyed for days.

Soon, the next pair entered the field. Penelope looked surprisingly rested after summoning so much water last round, but a sense of resignation also lingered, which told Nick that she didn't believe her chances were very good.

"Begin!"

A thin beam of water shot from her pointed finger as she clearly attempted to catch her opponent off guard.

Although extremely compressed and able to carve through the dense rock of a golem in the previous round, the water simply lost energy as it crossed the field, splashing out long before it could reach Emile.

"Oh damn, she really hit the bottom of her reserves," Tim exclaimed, but Nick shook his head.

"She still has enough for a few spells. No, it was him."

Penelope's shoulders slumped. "I surrender."