The tournament continued intensely, but there was a different kind of tension in the air. The next announced match silenced the entire arena.
— Kaedor versus Halrik!
Kaedor, the lion-man, walked to the center of the arena with firm, controlled steps. His presence was almost tangible, as if the very energy around him had become heavier. His golden eyes observed every movement of Halrik, the spear-wielding human, who seemed confident but tense at the same time.
Draven, leaning against the stands, watched intently. He wasn't just watching. He was studying. Every stance, every step, every movement of Kaedor revealed the confidence of a warrior who not only mastered his strength but also controlled the rhythm of the battle.
Halrik launched the first attack. The spear advanced with almost surgical precision, each thrust accompanied by a current of concentrated energy, trying to keep Kaedor at bay. But Kaedor didn't seem worried. He dodged with short steps, measured movements, and seemingly effortless movements.
The arena reacted. Murmurs swept through the crowd, many impressed, others clearly apprehensive.
"Is he standing still?"
"How can he avoid everything so easily?"
Draven perceived the pattern. Kaedor didn't just react; he anticipated and controlled the rhythm of the fight. Each of Halrik's attacks met with a seemingly simple response, but one that was the result of precise analysis and calculation.
Then Kaedor advanced. A single step, silent, but powerful enough to close the distance between him and Halrik's spear. The impact of his claws on the weapon's hilt made the human recoil almost imperceptibly. A slight smile appeared on Kaedor's lips—calm, confident, defiant.
Halrik reacted, concentrating his energy and emitting an intense glow from the spear. He unleashed a series of rapid blows, trying to force Kaedor to retreat. But the lion-man simply dodged and positioned himself strategically, absorbing and negating the pressure of the attack effortlessly.
Draven observed every detail. "His energy control… his stability… no student so far has managed to maintain such calm during a real fight." The Great Sage echoed in his mind:
Controlled energy, near-perfect combat rhythm. High adaptability potential.
The crowd began to perceive the level difference between Kaedor and the other students. Even Halrik showed signs of increasing effort, although he still tried to maintain impeccable technique.
The decisive moment arrived. Kaedor grabbed the spear shaft after a poorly calculated attack by Halrik and, with a swift movement, applied enough force to unbalance the human. A single, precise blow, involving controlled energy and force, knocked Halrik to the ground.
The instructor raised his hand:
— Combat over! Kaedor wins!
A heavy silence filled the arena. Murmurs slowly arose:
— He… finished the fight in seconds.
— It doesn't seem like Halrik had a chance.
— The difference in level is absurd. Draven continued watching. He wasn't surprised. He was curious. Kaedor wasn't just strong; his fighting showed control, patience, and a perfect reading of his opponent. He was, in fact, the most dangerous opponent in the academy.
When Kaedor walked away, his eyes scanned the stands. They met Draven's for a moment. There was no hostility, no direct challenge. There was only recognition—the recognition of a warrior who had finally seen another with enough potential to be interesting.
Zayra, beside Draven, noticed the silent exchange.
"He's interested in you."
Draven didn't answer. He just watched Kaedor leave. He knew that fight made one thing clear: when his turn came, facing Kaedor would be a true test of skill and control.
And that battle in the tournament promised to be just the beginning of something bigger.