180 Midterm Duels

The grand auditorium of the academy is bathed in golden light streaming in from the tall, arched windows. The light plays off the shimmering surfaces of desks, highlighting the diligent scribbles of notes and the anxious anticipation of the students. The start of the midterms is a palpable feeling in the air, like an electric charge.

Professor Feron stands at the podium, his normally immaculate appearance betraying a hint of frazzle. His hair, always perfectly coiffed, looks a touch disheveled, and there's a subtle crease between his brows. He drums his fingers impatiently on the podium, clearly waiting for the last stragglers to enter and settle down.

When the chatter finally subsides, he takes a deep breath, adjusting his glasses. "Today, we'll be discussing the upcoming midterms," he begins, projecting his voice to reach every corner of the room.

The murmur of the students goes silent in an instant, every eye glued to the professor.

"First, there are the class tests. They will assess your knowledge, your understanding, and your application of the theory we've covered over the past few months. Prepare thoroughly." He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in.

The entire class gulps collectively, some shifting in their seats, eyes darting around nervously. It's no secret that Professor Feron's tests are among the toughest.

He then continues, "Following the class tests, we have the school midterms. This is where our academy competes against others. The test will showcase both your magical and physical prowess. This is not only about individual prowess but the reputation of our academy. We're defending our title of the best institution in the country."

The aura of the room seems to shift, the excitement palpable. The chance to compete and shine on a bigger stage, to prove oneself among the best of the best, is a lure for many.

But Professor Feron isn't done. He raises a hand, signaling for a holo-screen to appear beside him. A series of schedules and names pop up, detailing the order of the duels and participants.

"Be aware of your schedules and opponents. Do your research, strategize, and practice." He then adds, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, "And may the best mage win."

As the students begin to murmur among themselves, discussing strategies and opponents, Professor Feron's eyes scan the room, catching a few notable faces. His gaze lingers on V, Lysandra, and Isabella, the tension between the trio palpable even from a distance. His fingers tap rhythmically on the podium, but his lips remain sealed, giving away no hint of his inner thoughts.

Elara leans over to V, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "This is it, V. Are you ready?"

V sighs deeply. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Professor Feron stands at the podium, the subtle crease between his brows deeper than before. Without a word of warning, he slams his hand onto the podium. "Quiet!" The command, though murmured, carries an edge of authority that instantly silences every conversation in the room.

He taps his fingers on the podium, and with a subtle gesture, the wall adjacent to the large window begins to transform. The bricks and mortar stretch, groan, and shift as if the room itself is alive. The wall extends outward, creating a secondary chamber, much larger in dimension. The ground is marked with intricate runic symbols, glowing faintly underfoot, designed to contain and control powerful spells. High above, the ceiling seems to open up, revealing a dome-like structure made of shimmering translucent material, allowing a clear view of the skies while keeping the elements out. The sides of the room are lined with protective barriers, both magical and physical, to ensure no stray spells harm the spectators.

It is an arena, vast in its expanse, meant for duels that demand distance. Battles between mages, where the forces unleashed can be both beautiful and deadly.

Regaining his composure, Professor Feron steps into the newly formed arena. "The in-class midterms begin now," he announces, his voice echoing across the vast space. "Duels will be conducted over the entire week to ensure fairness and ample preparation time for each of you."

The students, though initially taken aback by the professor's demeanor and the sudden commencement of the midterms, now glance at each other with a mix of excitement, dread, and determination. The air is thick with anticipation, as the first names are about to be called out for the duel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Rubbing my eyebrows, I can't help but groan. This is going to be a ridiculously long month. A month that'll be loaded with an absurd amount of stress and, quite frankly, annoyance.

I glance at Lysandra, who's stretching out and yawning as if she doesn't have a care in the world. "Don't you dare use anything other than basic magic," I hiss at her.

She glares at me with cold defiant eyes. "That's unfair, you know."

Unfair? I have to mentally hold myself back from outright yelling. She's a freaking dragon! Having her in a mage's duel is like bringing a nuke to a knife fight. "It's not unfair. You're not going to use anything other than basic magic. It's not a choice." Dammit, it's not even fair, she has a high and I mean a high magic resistance. But that doesn't make her immune, high-ranking magic can easily hurt her with her current strength. Every high-ranking mage would want her for experiments if they ever found out she's a dragon.

Seeing her about to retort, I lean in closer. "I can't have anyone finding out you're a lizard, especially not right now."

Before Lysandra can offer another snappy retort, Professor Feron's voice rings out, "The first duel will be between Arvin and Rai."

I spot Arvin immediately. He's that overly eager guy, always jumping at the chance to prove himself. His bronze skin is almost glowing in the golden light, and his muscular frame is evident (it looks like he's been working out since the semester started). His hair, a rich auburn, cascades down in waves, neatly tied back with a matching blue band. He stands, strutting forward with an annoyingly cocky grin.

Rai, on the other hand, is his stark contrast. Black spiky hair that looks like it never met a comb and intense yellow eyes that are constantly darting around. He looks slightly out of place without his usual sword by his side. I wonder how he'll manage relying solely on his magic. 

Rai cracks his knuckles, electricity sparking between his fingers. "No sword, no problem," he mumbles, though loud enough for most of us to hear.

Arvin smirks, rolling his eyes. "Swords are for those who can't trust their magic." His voice dripping with arrogance.

Lysandra leans towards me, a mischievous smirk on her face. "Ten gold coins on Rai zapping that pompous ass."

Elara leans closer, her vibrant blue hair catching the rays of the golden light, standing out even more vividly against the grandeur of the auditorium. "No way," she whispers with that mischievous glint I've come to know. "I've got my money on Arvin. Rai's at a disadvantage without his sword."

Beside me, Lysandra's laughter is more of a scoff. "Seriously, Blueberry?" she quips, nodding towards Elara's hair. "Rai might be a swordsman, but Arvin's got an ego as inflated as your hair color is unnatural."

Before I can even process her words, my hand reaches out, giving Lysandra's head a sharp smack. "This is why nobody likes you, you scaly pain in the ass," I mutter. "Why are you even betting? Last I checked, you're broke because of all the crap I've been buying for you."

Elara's smile, as always, remains undimmed, the embodiment of pure, undiluted kindness. "Oh~ I've been looking forward to the midterms! It's all so exhilarating."

I groan internally, feeling sandwiched between these two opposing forces. To my left, Lysandra, who could easily be the poster child for chaos. To my right, Elara, an embodiment of all things good and serene. How the hell did I end up in the middle of this?

Trying to distract myself, my attention is drawn to Arvin, who has begun his spell. The very atmosphere around him grows dense, the elements of earth, water, wind, and fire spiraling, intertwining but never mixing. It's like watching a choreographed dance of nature. Not overly dominant, but the breadth of his control is undeniably impressive.

Nodding subtly to myself, I muse over how affinities work in our realm. To an outsider, the world of magic can seem perplexing and arbitrary. But like any complex system, there's an underlying logic to it. And the best way to explain that logic is through numbers.

"Okay, think of it this way," I ponder internally, eyes scanning the bustling auditorium. Spotting Isabella, I decide she's the perfect example. She's known for her versatility, after all. "Imagine you have a mana reservoir of, say, 100 mana points. It's just a theoretical number, but it helps to visualize."

Isabella's strengths are lightning, ice, fire, etc. She has so many I can't count them all. I've seen her in action many times, effortlessly wielding all three. But what people might not realize is the cost of her spells. When casting a fireball, her mana drain is roughly 7 mana points. An icicle might take 8, and a lightning bolt just 5. Why the difference? Affinities. We also can't forget the control, having a higher affinity gives you easier control over those affinities making the casting faster and more efficient. 

Having an affinity for an element essentially reduces the mana cost of casting spells related to that element. But what if you tried casting something you have zero affinities with? Let's say... making a flower bloom? For Isabella, it would cost an exorbitant 90 mana points, making it nearly impractical. She can do it, but it would leave her incredibly drained.

But then there are the anomalies like Rai and Flora. Both of them have a single affinity. And this singular focus has its own set of trade-offs.

"When you have just one affinity," I muse, "the mana cost for related spells is shockingly low, making those spells incredibly easy to control. It's almost like their magic fuses with their very essence."

But the flip side? They can't harness any other form of magic. Their singular affinity is so intertwined with their being that it blocks out all other elemental connections. 

Rai's grin is positively feral, and there's a wicked gleam in his yellow eyes. "I've been practicing my control, and since I can't use my sword, I can definitely do this." With a low grunt, he thrusts his hand out and, from the surge of electricity sparking between his fingers, molds a crackling sword made entirely of lightning. The blade is a bit rough around the edges, but the raw power emanating from it is undeniable.

Arvin's auburn eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise, and he nods appreciatively, smirking. "That's impressive."

I can't help but chuckle. "Well, looks like Rai's been practicing." Beside me, Lysandra gives an almost imperceptible nod, clearly unimpressed.

Arvin doesn't seem deterred, though. With a deep inhale, he throws both hands forward, creating dozens upon dozens of magic arrows that shimmer in different colors, each representing a different affinity. The arrows hover menacingly in the air, waiting for their master's command.

He smirks at Rai. "I just have to keep my distance, don't I?"

As if on cue, Rai takes a deep breath, grounding himself. The electric hum of his sword grows louder, and a bluish aura surrounds him. The arrows, sensing the surge of power, tremble slightly.

Then, without warning, Arvin releases the arrows. They streak forward, a vibrant barrage of magical force aiming directly at Rai.

Rai's response is immediate. With swift, measured strikes, he uses his lightning sword to parry and deflect the incoming arrows. His movements are fluid, each slash and pivot carefully calculated. It's fun to watch, like a dance where every step is both a defense and an attack. I can still see plenty of openings on both sides; they lack awareness.