Shocking

Under the silver gaze of the moon, the courtyard of the Rohese estate transformed quickly into an arena with the witnesses gathering and surrounding the platform. 

The estate's grand courtyard, typically a serene oasis, now buzzed with the whispered speculations and eager anticipations of Myriad Spirit City's elite.

"Look, it's going to start!" a young noble exclaimed, his eyes alight with the thrill of the impending duel. "I've never seen Edric in action before. This should be interesting."

"Indeed, but have you heard?" another onlooker, adorned in lavish attire, leaned in to share a piece of juicy gossip. "It's Lady Maribel who encouraged this duel. They say she finds these contests...amusing."

A collective murmur of acknowledgment spread among the crowd, a mix of amusement and disapproval in their tones.

"Ah, that Maribel, always stirring the pot. She does love her mischief," an elder statesman remarked, shaking his head wryly. "Let's just hope this doesn't end too poorly for the young masters involved."

As the duelists took their positions, the anticipation reached its peak, with every whisper and chuckle weaving into the charged atmosphere.

Edric, wielding a staff imbued with the essence of nature—a hallmark of the Rohese family's affinity—faced off against Lassim, who quickly summoned his halberd to his hands, taking a stance using both hands with the blade of the halberd pointing down.

After a brief pause, Edric shouted, "I'll repay you for the other day's insult and win Maribel's hand."

The duel commenced with Edric taking the initiative, his staff swirling with intricate patterns of nature elemental energy forming in the air as it gathered quickly to him as he summoned the forces of nature to his command. Vines, thick and thorned, appeared from coalesced mana and snaked across the marble floor of the arena, seeking to ensnare Lassim in their relentless grasp. 

Lassim, however, was not to be underestimated. He moved with a grace, each step calculated to avoid the verdant traps laid by his cousin. As he maneuvered around the arena, Lassim moved his internal cultivation and a light mist began to fall, summoned by the cloud that was beginning to form overhead. Lassim's cultivation technique [Storm Bringer], a harmonious blend of his dual elemental spirits, was coming to life. The surrounding air beginning to charge with static electricity and with excitement from each and every one of the onlookers witnessing someone use two elements for the first time in Nexia's history. 

Edric's laughter cut through the mist, his taunts aimed at undermining Lassim's resolve. "Is this all you have? A bit of rain to dampen my spirits? Making me a little wet won't save you!" he jeered.

Lassim's response was a series of evasive maneuvers, his body moving with the fluid grace taught by countless hours of training. He was calm and collected, occasionally swinging the blade of his halberd, sweeping through the gathered vines to make space to dodge. Yet, with each vine he dodged or sliced through, more would take its place, a relentless assault that pushed him ever backward. The thorns, hidden amongst the green, left their mark on his flesh, a painful reminder of the duel's stakes.

The realization dawned on him; his opponent was unlike any he had faced before. In the academy, where brute strength and the ability to overpower were prized, Edric's strategy of control and restriction was an anomaly. Lassim's experience did not extend to countering such tactics, his repertoire filled with moves designed for a different kind of fight.

He was still a bit inexperienced in battles of this nature. He hadn't had a duel in classes yet against someone who acted to control and restrict their opponents. This type of support user was not common among the first year's top students as the trials thus far had rewarded pure power, strength, and ability to massacre legions of wild beasts. A spirit warrior that fell into the support type roles like this didn't have a single chance to be in the top 100 student class that Lassim attended.

He was a bit unsure how to handle the situation, but he knew he needed to close the gap that was widening as Edric's vines and roots were pushing him further and further towards the edge of the arena. Small thorns would some times scrape and cut parts of his body not covered by the blue and golden academy uniform.

Edric, sensing his advantage, intensified his assault. "Come now, Lassim. You want to be properly recognized by Grandmother and Grandfather, don't you? Show me the might of the Vanthars, or are you all talk and no action? Perhaps the tales of your family's prowess were just that—tales."

Edric continued, noticing Lassim's discomfort when mentioning the Vanthar family, "Some Iron Marquis defending the human lines? Merely an exaggerated tale told by our family to make him look better than some random commoner because he fell in love with a Rohese. We can't have someone with barely any notoriety marrying one of us. Yet, it's a disgrace that someone with such commoner blood, barely a new noble, could even be a match to the Rohese family. You only barely make the cut off by having a fraction of our blood in your veins. You're hardly worthy of Maribel's hand." Each insult, each jibe from Edric, was designed to unsettle, to provoke. Eager for his victory.

Lassim felt the sting of the words, not just on his skin but in his heart. The mention of his family, the disparagement of his heritage, fueled a growing fire, with such intensity that would make his father proud, within him. He was enraged, ceasing his retreat and planting his feet firmly against the ground while vines snaked up his boots. 

Suddenly, the falling mist began to turn into a torrent of rain. The members of the crowd, almost caught off guard, begun using their own element energy to shield themselves from the oncoming water from the cloud that had now covered several blocks in the city overhead.

A surge of lightning mana then coalesced around Lassim, drawn to the swirling of emotions raging within him. The cloud above crackled with power, thunder began booming rapidly and unending, a tempest born of his unbridled anger.

With Edric's insults echoing in his ears, Lassim's connection to the elemental forces around him were magnified. His right hand released it's grip and rose from the halberd's shaft, reaching out to the lightning mana in the surroundings and up above, its raw energy crackling towards him under his passionate command, listening to his whims.

His figure then began to be swarmed with bright violet lightning that snaked around his entire body from head to toe. The air around him vibrated with shocking power that surprised all. It was clear that his cultivation was SI5, which that in itself was remarkable and unbelieve after just almost two months of being an awakened spirit warrior. Yet, the power he emitted neared that of someone in the Spirit Growth stage, not Spirit Incubation stage.

Then, as if having determined it's verdict and ready to release it's judgmental wrath against his foe, the thunderous cloud above responded, unleashing a bolt of violet lightning that sought Lassim out.

As the lightning struck him, it further charged the mass of lightning energy in his exploding elemental aura, he raised his halberd forward, the weapon acting as a conduit for the storm's fury. The energy traveled up the halberd, enveloping it in a crackling aura of lightning. The mist, the rain, the charged air—all were elements in the storm Lassim was about to unleash.

Drawing on every ounce of his cultivation, blinded by a rage that was fueled by the insult to his family, Lassim executed an overcharged version of his first created move: [Storm Bringer's Thrust]. The air howled as he lunged forward, the halberd pointed straight at Edric, lightning arcing wildly around its tip.

The impact was like the wrath of the heavens unleashed. Edric, caught in the path of the galvanized thrust and soaked from the rain, had no defense against the catastrophic blend of water and lightning. The energy exploded upon contact, throwing him back with a force that left him heavily damaged, his body wracked and seizing with the shock of the electric surge.

Silence descended upon the courtyard, the aftermath of the storm hanging heavy in the air. Edric lay defeated, the arrogance washed from his expression by the very rain he had mocked. Lassim, breathing heavily, stood victorious yet troubled by the intensity of the anger that had driven him to such lengths.

The gathered crowd, momentarily stunned by the display of power and the sudden end to the duel, erupted into a mixture of applause and murmurs. The Rohese family present and all of the Myriad Spirit City's elite had witnessed the birth of a new force within their ranks—a young master who commanded the storm itself.

Lady Elisa swiftly took charge of the aftermath of the duel. With a grace that belied the urgency of the moment, she directed a wave of nature's energy toward Edric, enveloping him in a cocoon of vibrant leaves that shimmered with a potent, healing essence. Onlookers watched in awe as the leaves seemed to pulse against his skin, their energy working to soothe the burns and wounds inflicted by the duel's climactic end.

Reaching his side without hesitation, she retrieved a glowing red flask from the folds of her dress, uncorking it to reveal the contents—a strong healing potion that glowed with an inner light. With a firm hand, she tilted Edric's head back, pouring the potion down his throat, each drop filled with surging energy to promote recovery and healing.

"Take him to the infirmary," she ordered the nearby Rohese guards, her voice carrying the weight of command. "Ensure he makes it there quickly. We'll not have this evening marred by lasting injury."

As the guards complied, lifting Edric with gentle efficiency, Frederyc couldn't contain his excitement over the duel's outcome. "Bravo! That's my grandson! Ha-ha-ha! What a display of strength!" he boomed, his voice and laughter echoing across the courtyard. "Truly, you've shown yourself to be a worthy member of the Rohese family tonight, and a proud Vanthar! I'm sure that young boy would be proud of his son's performance."

Amid the accolades and the buzz of the crowd, Maribel approached Lassim on the stage, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "That was incredible, Lassim! You were so cool, so... handsome in battle," she gushed, her flattery laying it on thick.

But Lassim, far from basking in the glory of victory, felt a gnawing disgust within himself. The duel, driven by a third party and ending in rage from insults, had spiraled beyond his intention. He hadn't wanted to harm Edric so grievously, and Maribel's role in goading the event left a sour taste in his mouth. Her overt flattery, in light of her earlier mischief, did nothing to endear her to him.

"I think you misunderstand the situation, Maribel," Lassim said, his voice carrying a firmness that brooked no argument. "This wasn't a spectacle for amusement. And frankly, your encouragement of such recklessness doesn't sit well with me. I value partners that treat others as more than just toys for enjoyment that must compete for a chance at marriage."

With those words, he turned away from her, his steps carrying him to where his grandparents stood. Lady Elisa met his approach with a knowing look, one that acknowledged the complexity of the emotions and politics at play. Frederyc, though still caught in the aftermath of excitement, sensed Lassim's turmoil and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Come, Lassim. Let's leave the stage to the storytellers and the gossips. You've done enough for one evening," Frederyc said, guiding him away from the crowd and the whispers that began to swirl with speculation and intrigue from having witnessed such a remarkable battle.

As they retreated from the courtyard, Lassim felt the weight of the evening's events settle around him—a mix of pride and regret, triumph and introspection. Tonight had been a test of more than just his physical prowess; it was a lesson in the burdens of legacy and the cost of victory.