“Ugh, damn it— these things— hit like— cannonballs!”
He swung his sword this way and that, parrying orb after orb. It didn’t feel at all like beginner-level magic. His arms strained against the impact of the blows, which struck his sword each time with immense force. They kept coming, too, and he had no choice but to continue defending himself against the barrage. Cold sweat dripped down his neck. Eventually, there was a loud crack.
“Wha— You gotta be kidding me!”
His sword of earth snapped before crumbling away into dust. With his weapon destroyed, he gave up on his plan to close the distance and retreated. While melee combat was his forte, he was no pushover at medium range, either. A glance at Cain revealed him to be perfectly motionless, his expression calm — almost bored. Rayde ground his teeth, feeling rage fill his chest.
“Great torrent of earth, surge forward as a sea of rubble — Velle Quake! ”
With thunderous noise, the ground cracked beneath his feet, forming a fissure that lengthened as if the earth itself was splitting apart. The cleft kept growing in Cain’s direction, and the displaced matter — soil and sand and rocks of all kinds — suddenly floated upward before speeding toward him in a torrent of sheer mass.
“Vright. ”
A gigantic globe of pure light materialized in front of Cain. The next instant, the deluge of debris was no more.
I... I can’t even...
Rayde simply gaped. Words failed him. He’d thrown his full power into the spell he just cast, and Cain had just shut it down without batting an eye.
This is too much. How can he be so strong?
Faced with the harsh reality of their gap in strength, his mind went blank. That was when a large lance of light appeared above Cain’s head.
“Ray Javelin. ”
With the sun at its back, its massive form glowed fiercely, almost as if sunlight itself had condensed into a spear. Then, it barreled toward Rayde. Blinding light filled the arena as it slammed into the ground with a deafening explosion and took a chunk of the field with it.
“Auuuugh!”
Rayde screamed as the shockwave slammed into him, carrying with it a burst of wind and dust. He strained against it, unable to open his eyes in the storm. Amidst the blast, he heard the unmistakable sound of a pendant cracking. When the force finally waned and the dust cleared, he found himself inside a pale blue barrier. He stared at it half-dazed, his mind refusing to process what had happened.
“Th-That’s it! The match is over! The winner is Cain Theresia!”
The audience broke out into cheers, but Rayde barely heard them. The ringing in his ears drowned out the sound — a ringing that might be an after-effect of the blast, but also might be the desperate wail of an ego that refused to acknowledge a cruel truth. Just like that, his match was over. There was no struggle, no climax. There was only a quick, crushing end. He opened his mouth, but no words came. His eyes shifted toward his victorious opponent, who was looking at him with the same calm — almost bored — expression he saw before.
“The two contestants got into it right off the bat, and after an intense back-and-forth, Cain has emerged the victor!”
“Just looking at the results alone, it’s hard to describe his victory as anything other than overwhelming. You’ll notice, for example, that he hasn’t moved an inch since the match began.”
“Wait, really? Huh... Wow, you’re right.”
“It looks like there’s a good chance he’ll sweep this year’s tournament as well.”
Rayde recovered from his shock just in time to catch the tail end of the commentators’ discussion, and he looked at Cain’s position. It was true. He stood in the exact same place he’d been at the start. In other words, throughout the course of the entire match, Rayde never posed enough of a threat to convince Cain to even take a step.
“Damn it...”
Faced with the overwhelming difference in power, a swirl of dark emotions welled up — frustration, regret, anger.
“Damn it all!”
He slammed his fist into the ground. The pain paled in comparison to his mental anguish.
The hunched form of Rayde was a bitter thing to behold. Even from his place in the stands, Sain could see the anger hidden beneath the agony. He understood that anger and knew it was directed at Rayde himself — at his own weakness. Slowly, he looked away.
“...He’s strong.”
As the next pair of contestants entered the arena and prepared themselves, Cain turned and left without a word. Sain watched him go, his steps steady and even. There wasn’t a trace of fatigue. What had been hyped up as the effective grand finals turned out to be almost comically one-sided. Every one of Rayde’s spells had been an impressive display of skill. They were flashy and destructive, and the crowd loved them. Velle Quake in particular elicited a round of excited gasps from the audience. Still, it failed to leave even a scratch on Cain. There was never any struggle or suspense. Like the commentators said, the result was an overwhelming victory for Cain. For such a brutal beatdown, however, most of the audience didn’t seem too surprised. In their minds, Cain’s victory was probably a foregone conclusion. They were simply here to enjoy the process of watching it happen. There was no doubt in their minds that Cain would sweep the tournament. For those who had to stand opposite him in the ring, that was a bitter pill to swallow.
“Master Sain.”
He turned to find Melia approaching him.
“Ah, Maid. It looks like you won your match?”
“I sure did.”