CHAPTER 105: GRAND FINAL!

"The battle for third place," the witch announced after a brief intermission for arena repairs, "Lydia Thornfield versus Sera Nightwind!"

This match provided the day’s most enlightening revelation about advanced tactical thinking and tournament strategy.

Sera, who had forfeited against Ren to avoid unnecessary damage, faced off against Lydia, who had just endured a grueling fifteen-minute battle against Mirabella’s overwhelming magical assault.

The difference in their respective conditions was immediately apparent and strategically decisive. Sera was fresh, rested, and operating at full magical capacity.

Lydia was exhausted, her mental reserves significantly depleted, and her defensive systems operating at reduced efficiency after the sustained bombardment she’d endured.

What followed was a methodical demonstration of how intelligent energy management could be more important than raw magical ability in tournament settings.

Sera’s wind magic and mobility enhancements allowed her to systematically exploit every weakness that Lydia’s previous battle had created.

Her hit-and-run tactics were perfectly suited to defeating an opponent whose defensive capabilities had been systematically worn down by prior engagements.

The battle lasted exactly twelve minutes and ended with Lydia’s gracious acknowledgment that her mental reserves were too depleted to continue effective resistance.

As Sera was declared the third-place finalist, Ren found himself smiling with genuine admiration for her strategic thinking.

She had assessed the tournament structure, identified that challenging him directly was unnecessary risk, and positioned herself to face a significantly weakened opponent in the third-place battle.

Her earlier forfeit hadn’t just been surrender, it had been sophisticated resource allocation strategy that maximized her chances of achieving the best possible tournament result.

’Exceptional tactical thinking,’ he thought approvingly. ’She understood that sometimes the most effective way to win is choosing which battles not to fight.’

As the day’s competition concluded, the witch’s final announcement sent ripples of excitement and awe through the assembled crowd.

"Tomorrow," she declared, her ancient voice carrying unusual gravity and ceremony, "the final battle will take place in the presence of Academy Head Valeria herself!"

The arena fell into complete, stunned silence.

Academy Head Valeria was a figure of absolute legend whose power and influence extended far beyond the academy’s boundaries into the highest levels of magical and political authority.

She was consulted by Queens, Matriarchs, Patriarchs, and other legendary weavers, feared by enemies of the realm, and respected throughout the surface as one of the most formidable weavers alive.

Her appearances were so extraordinarily rare that most students graduated without ever seeing her in person more than once!

In fact, many faculty members had worked at the academy for decades without direct contact!

Her presence at the finals would transform tomorrow’s battle from a tournament conclusion into a genuinely historical event, at least for the academy.

But everyone in that arena understood exactly why the Academy Head was breaking centuries of tradition to attend personally.

Ren.

The first male weaver in recorded history had not only survived the academy’s brutal selection process, he had dominated his way to the tournament finals through displays of magical innovation that defied fundamental assumptions about combat capability.

For over a thousand years, weaving had been the exclusive domain of women.

The very concept of a male connecting to the loom had been considered impossible by magical theorists and practitioners alike.

Yet here stood living proof that everything they thought they knew about magical potential was incomplete.

Academy Head Valeria, as one of the most powerful weavers alive, would naturally want to observe this unprecedented phenomenon firsthand.

Was his weaving fundamentally different from female practitioners? Did his unique abilities represent a new branch of magical evolution?

What implications did his existence have for the future of magical education and society itself?

The academic and political ramifications were staggering. If male weavers were possible, how many had been overlooked throughout history?

What other magical assumptions needed to be reconsidered? The boy standing in that arena represented potential paradigm shifts that could reshape civilization itself.

Her attendance wasn’t just ceremonial, it was quite necessary.

"The finals will commence at noon," the witch continued with appropriate solemnity. "All academy personnel and students are invited to witness this unprecedented occasion."

As the crowd began to disperse, excitement and anticipation filled the air like electricity building before a massive storm.

The following morning arrived with an atmosphere unlike anything the academy had experienced in recent memory.

Students, faculty, staff, and visiting dignitaries filled every available seat in the massively expanded arena complex.

Temporary viewing areas had been constructed to accommodate unprecedented attendance, and sophisticated magical amplification systems ensured that everyone would have perfect viewing of the historic battle.

The arena itself had been completely restored and enhanced specifically for this occasion.

New protective barriers incorporating the most advanced magical engineering available had been installed to contain whatever extraordinary forces the finals might unleash.

The floor had been reinforced with materials capable of withstanding the kind of reality-bending destruction that Ren’s dual resonance had previously caused.

Magical viewing screens had been positioned throughout the academy to allow those who couldn’t obtain arena seats to witness the historic event.

The entire institution had effectively shut down normal operations to focus on what everyone understood would be a moment of genuine significance.

As noon approached, a collective hush fell over the assembled crowd of nearly thirty thousand spectators. Anticipation was so intense it was almost physically tangible.

High above the arena, a section of what had appeared to be empty air suddenly shimmered and became visible as an elegant reflective chamber materialized into view.

The Academy Head’s observation room.

The chamber was clearly a masterwork of magical engineering, allowing its occupant to observe events while remaining completely protected from any conceivable threat or attention.

Its sudden appearance confirmed that Academy Head Valeria was indeed present for the finals.

The knowledge that such a legendary figure was watching added immeasurable weight and significance to every moment.

This wasn’t just an inter block tournament finale, it was a demonstration that would be observed and evaluated by one of the most powerful weaving practitioners in existence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the witch announced, her voice carrying newfound formality appropriate to the historic magnitude of the occasion, "the Academy Tournament Finals!"

"Ren of Block B!"

"Mirabella of Block B!"

"Approach the arena!"

The crowd’s roar was absolutely deafening as both fighters emerged from their respective waiting areas.

But beneath the thunderous applause, some spectators whispered about the significance of this particular matchup.

These two had fought before.

Earlier this month, Mirabella had decisively defeated Ren in single combat.

That loss had been the reason he’d joined her guild in the first place. They learnt he had acknowledged her superiority and sought to learn from someone whose raw power had overwhelmed his tactical innovations.

Although that wasn’t the correct truth, that was what they believed to be the truth. No one other than Ren, Mirabella and Lia knew about the bet they made.

The question on everyone’s mind at this moment was whether anything had fundamentally changed.

Mirabella’s dominance throughout the tournament had been absolute, her magical capabilities appearing to operate at levels that transcended normal academy training.

Meanwhile, Ren’s victories had come through unprecedented tactical innovation and abilities that defied conventional understanding.

But raw power versus tactical brilliance—when they had clashed before, power had won decisively.

Had Ren’s growth during their time as guildmates been sufficient to overcome the fundamental gap in their capabilities?

Or would history repeat itself with Mirabella’s overwhelming magical strength proving superior to even his most innovative strategies?

The atmosphere was electric with anticipation, charged with the collective knowledge that they were about to witness something that would be remembered and discussed for years to come.

Ren felt the familiar analytical calm settle over his mind as he walked toward the center of the arena.

Every possible preparation had been made. Every conceivable strategy had been considered and refined.

His body had recovered sufficiently to fight at peak effectiveness, and his understanding of Mirabella’s capabilities was as complete as careful observation could make it.

But understanding someone’s abilities and being able to overcome them were entirely different challenges.

Above them, the reflective chamber caught the noon sunlight like a mirror, its presence a constant reminder that their battle would be witnessed by eyes that had seen the absolute pinnacle of magical achievement.

Mirabella moved with her characteristic confidence, her magical aura radiating the kind of raw power that had dominated every opponent she’d faced throughout the tournament.

Her eyes met his across the arena space with focused intensity that spoke of someone who had waited years for exactly this moment.

As they took their positions at opposite ends of the arena, the witch raised her staff with ceremonial precision.

The Academy Tournament Finals were about to begin.

"Begin!"

———————

Author’s Note (AKA Shameless Begging Time)

Hey there, beautiful readers!

So... I may have done something completely predictable and created a Ko-fi account. Yes, I know, I know—another author fishing for coffee money. But hear me out!

I’m currently sitting here refreshing my Ko-fi page like some sort of caffeinated goblin, waiting for that sweet *ding* of notification. My finger is literally hovering over the refresh button. It’s becoming a problem.

Here’s the deal: Every donation of $10 or more = one bonus Chapter of our boy Ren being analytically brilliant (and occasionally getting his butt kicked by overpowered academy students).

Think of it as paying for premium tactical innovation content. Or just enabling my unhealthy relationship with fictional characters and their increasingly ridiculous magical abilities.

(Ko-fi link is lurking in my bio like Ren in the shadows)

Will I write bonus Chapters anyway? Probably. Will your donations make me do a little happy dance and write them faster? Absolutely.

Thanks for reading, and remember, every time you don’t donate, somewhere in the multiverse, Ren fails to achieve dual resonance.

(That’s not actually true, but the guilt trip was worth a shot.)

-Your Eternally Caffeinated Author

P.S. - Yes, I will judge the moral character of anyone who donates exactly $9.99. You know what you did.