CHAPTER 93: LEGACY ART!

The arena floor was still being cleared of the dissipating shadows from the previous match when the witch’s voice rang out with renewed energy.

"Our second match," she announced with theatrical satisfaction, "will feature Mirabella of Block B."

Ren felt his attention sharpen as his rival stepped forward from the group of remaining candidates. Mirabella moved with her characteristic composed grace, her silver hair catching the magical lighting as she approached the center of the arena.

She looked completely calm and composed. There was no ounce of fear or nervousness on her face.

"Versus Hilda of Block A," the witch continued.

A second figure emerged from the candidates, and Ren found himself genuinely surprised by her appearance.

Where Mirabella represented elegant beauty enhanced by high class sophistication, Hilda embodied something entirely different. She was a striking combination of classical beauty and martial presence that commanded immediate attention.

Hilda’s auburn hair fell in thick waves that seemed to catch and reflect light like burnished copper. Her emerald eyes held depths that suggested both intelligence and something more primal; a warrior’s instinct that most academy students never developed.

Her features were sharp and perfectly symmetrical, creating the kind of beauty that would have made her memorable even without the unique weapon she carried. Especially considering how curvy and toned she was.

The halberd in her hands was a masterwork of both craftsmanship and magical enhancement. The blade gleamed with inner light that suggested enchantments beyond standard academy equipment, while the shaft appeared to be carved from some exotic wood that seemed to pulse with its own magical energy.

The weapon was nearly as tall as Hilda herself, yet she wielded it with the casual ease of someone who had trained with it for years.

Her entire presence radiated competence and controlled lethality that made even Ren reconsider his assessment of Mirabella’s chances.

While his friend possessed superior analytical capabilities and strategic thinking, Hilda appeared to be a pure combatant whose martial skills might prove overwhelming in direct confrontation.

Even from his position in the candidate observation area, Ren could see the subtle differences in their approaches to the impending battle. Mirabella was analyzing, calculating, preparing to implement strategic solutions to tactical problems.

Hilda was simply ready—poised to unleash martial capabilities that needed no complex planning to be devastatingly effective.

The thousands of observers in the arena stands had grown noticeably quieter as they absorbed the visual impact of two remarkably beautiful and obviously skilled combatants preparing to face each other in serious magical combat.

After Shadow’s shocking display of lethal capabilities, everyone understood that these matches would test the absolute limits of the candidates’ abilities. The tournament had reached a stage where each and every participant was unique and powerful in their own way.

It was definitely going to be another thrilling watch.

"Begin!" the witch commanded.

The next few seconds unfolded with dreamlike slowness that made every detail crystal clear despite the incredible speed of events. At least to Ren, it felt that way.

A dazzling, resplendent armor began manifesting around Mirabella’s body. It was colored in ethereal blues and pristine whites that seemed to exist simultaneously in multiple dimensions.

The armor appeared to be crafted from crystallized starlight and frozen moonbeams, creating protection that was both impossibly beautiful and obviously formidable.

The manifestation was unlike anything Ren had ever witnessed. Where most magical enhancements were either practical or aesthetic, Mirabella’s armor achieved both purposes with perfection that suggested capabilities far beyond standard academy training.

She looked like a warrior goddess descended from celestial realms, but the power radiating from her form was absolutely terrifying in its magnitude.

The arena temperature plummeted instantly. Ice began forming across every surface, not gradually, but with explosive speed that created a crackling symphony of crystallization.

Within heartbeats, the entire combat area had been transformed into a frozen landscape that sparkled with magical energy. It was a beautiful landscape of cold and biting chill.

Hilda had begun moving the moment combat commenced, her halberd spinning in complex patterns as she advanced toward her opponent with fluid grace that showcased years of martial training.

Her combat form was flawless, her approach tactically sound, her readiness to engage in close combat obvious and impressive. A dazzling red rune on her neck began pulsing with waves of power, a sign of her activating her rune’s special ability.

But she never reached striking range.

Mirabella raised her hand with casual elegance that made the gesture appear almost lazy. The ice covering the arena responded instantly, flowing toward her position like liquid mercury despite its solid state.

Thousands of ice fragments converged at a single point above her palm, compressing and condensing with forces that defied physical laws.

The result was an ice needle no longer than a finger but possessing density that made it effectively indestructible.

Bang!

When Mirabella released it, the projectile moved faster than bullets, faster than most weaves, faster than anything Hilda could have anticipated or defended against. It broke the sound barrier!

The needle struck Hilda center mass before she could react. The impact didn’t cause too much injury on impact—instead, it triggered an instantaneous freezing effect that encased her entire form in a block of ice so clear and perfect it resembled the finest crystal sculpture.

Hilda remained conscious within her frozen prison, her emerald eyes showing awareness but complete immobilization. She was unharmed but utterly defeated, trapped in ice that would require significant magical intervention to remove safely.

If Mirabella wanted her dead, she would be dead within an instant. That much was clear to all that beheld this move. There was no doubt about it.

The entire arena fell silent once again. After Shadow’s shocking display of lethal precision, they had witnessed something equally impressive but fundamentally different.

This was raw magical power applied with absolute control and devastating effectiveness!

It was terrifying!

Ren found his hands gripping the edge of his observation platform with enough force to leave marks in the stone. Despite maintaining his characteristic calm expression, internally he was processing implications that extended far beyond this single combat demonstration.

The armor surrounding Mirabella wasn’t just advanced magical enhancement—it was something far more significant and dangerous.

The way it had materialized, the perfection of its construction, the sheer magnitude of power it enabled, all pointed to capabilities that shouldn’t exist among academy prospectives.

That armor was quite literally a legacy art!

The realization sent a chill through Ren that had nothing to do with the lingering cold from Mirabella’s ice magic.

Legacy arts were techniques that transcended normal magical education, representing knowledge and power that connected directly to the most legendary figures in magical history.

If Mirabella possessed access to legacy art capabilities, then his assessment of the competition’s difficulty had been catastrophically inadequate.

He wasn’t just facing exceptionally trained prospectives, he was competing against individuals who wielded power that bordered on the mythical!

The tournament had revealed two candidates whose abilities exceeded normal parameters by enormous margins.

Shadow’s dimensional manipulation and sympathetic magic suggested training that went far beyond academy curriculum. Mirabella’s legacy art armor indicated access to magical knowledge that most people believed was purely historical.

As the ice began melting under the witch’s dispelling magic and Hilda was carefully extracted from her crystalline prison, Ren realized that his own strategic thinking would need to evolve dramatically if he hoped to survive the remaining matches.

The competition wasn’t just about magical skill or tactical intelligence anymore. It had become a contest between individuals who possessed capabilities that redefined what was possible for students at their level of training.

And he had no idea how many more surprises awaited among the remaining candidates.

The arena floor was still glistening with residual moisture from the melted ice when the witch’s voice echoed once more across the vast space.

"Our third match," she announced with obvious anticipation, "will feature Ren of Block B."

Ren felt the familiar surge of analytical focus as he stepped forward, his mind already processing tactical considerations for whatever opponent awaited him.

After witnessing Shadow’s dimensional manipulation and Mirabella’s legacy art, he understood that conventional approaches would likely prove inadequate against whatever capabilities his next challenger possessed.

"Versus Lyra of Block A," the witch concluded with theatrical flourish.

The announcement sent a ripple of surprise through both the candidates and the thousands of observers filling the arena stands. Ren felt his own composure waver momentarily as he processed the unexpected matchup.

Lyra Amethyst stepped forward with the same graceful confidence she had displayed throughout the previous trials, but her expression reflected the complexity of their situation.

They had worked together during the team trial, had developed mutual respect for each other’s capabilities, had achieved victory through collaborative excellence that transcended their original factional differences.

Now they were required to face each other in single combat where only one could advance.

The middle Amethyst sister’s Oracle abilities had been crucial to their team’s success, but more importantly, Ren had witnessed her analytical intelligence and adaptability under pressure.

She wasn’t just a formidable opponent—she was someone whose strategic thinking operated at levels that few students ever achieved.

As they took their positions in the arena center, the psychological weight of the matchup was obvious to everyone present.

Two candidates who had proven their ability to surpass their peers now forced to demonstrate their individual capabilities against someone who understood their mental strengths and weaknesses intimately.

The silence in the arena was profound as thousands of observers waited to see how this unexpected confrontation would unfold.

"Begin!"