'What is this…? That brat can control his puppet to use combat techniques like a Warrior?'
Zarek was once again stunned.
Ordinary Mages would simply cast magic to enhance their puppets, just as he had done—even though properly executed combat techniques could be faster than magic and consume less spiritual energy.
The reason was simple: even learning basic puppet control was already difficult enough. No Mage would spend a large amount of time teaching their puppet to use combat techniques like that, especially when similar effects could be achieved with a few additional magics.
Yet that brat had not only learned it—he was using it effectively in real combat.
As a result, not only had the situation in the arena failed to improve, it had actually tilted further against him.
'I have to use everything I have to win.'
Without hesitation, he decided to reveal the trump cards he had saved for later rounds.
At the center of the arena, thick streams of strange purple smoke suddenly poured out from beneath the black cloak of his puppet, rapidly spreading across the battlefield.
This smoke granted Zarek two advantages.
First, it was poisonous. While he did not expect it to defeat his opponent outright, it would force the boy to divide his attention and expend more magic to defend against it. Meanwhile, Zarek—having already taken an antidote—could continue fighting without concern.
Second, and more importantly, it obscured vision.
Zarek quickly cast a magic that allowed him to sense objects through the ground. As long as he maintained it, he could pinpoint the boy's exact location no matter how dense the smoke became.
But he didn't stop there.
While the two puppets continued clashing in the center—still guided by their masters through the puppets' "eyes"—Zarek launched his next move.
The smoke was most effective at blocking long-distance vision, but at close range, the two puppets were less affected.
From beneath the black cloak, a long, flat tail suddenly extended outward. It was lined with blades along both sides—a weapon in its own right.
Hidden within the smoke, from the tip of the tail, a wind-based magic attack was silently launched toward Tris.
At the same time, a hidden mechanism inside the puppet's mouth opened, firing a poisoned projectile.
Both a magical and a physical attack were unleashed simultaneously under the cover of smoke.
Yet both were blocked by a stone wall that suddenly rose before the boy.
The moment the smoke appeared, Tris had already anticipated his opponent's next move. While taking measures against the poison, he had also cast a defensive magic in advance.
The result proved that his preparation was far from unnecessary.
Sensing the presence of the barrier through his magic, Zarek realized his surprise attack had failed.
But he did not lose heart—his plan was not over yet.
By now, he had already moved more than halfway across the arena, his target still fixed on Tris.
This was a standard tactic when facing a Mage: instead of breaking through the frontline defense, it was more effective to bypass it and strike directly at the Mage behind.
Suddenly, numerous stone walls began rising across the battlefield.
This was not Zarek's doing—it was Tris.
Through his sensing magic, Zarek also detected movement from Tris's position.
'What is this? Changing hiding spots while reinforcing defense?'
Zarek adjusted his position accordingly, preparing to strike at Tris's new location.
At the same time, he began casting another attack magic—a powerful one capable of crushing both the stone walls and whoever hid behind them.
Even as he chanted, his hands never stopped controlling the puppet in battle.
This level of multitasking significantly slowed his spellcasting.
Yet the mere fact that he could control a puppet while simultaneously casting a complex magic was already extraordinary.
It was far more difficult than writing or drawing two different things with each hand at once.
Zarek had never believed any other contestant could achieve such a feat—only the judges, or at least that annoying referee, might be capable of it.
Or so he had thought before this match.
After witnessing Tris's abilities, he suspected the boy could do the same—controlling his puppet while casting complex magics, not just simple ones like raising stone walls.
Even so, he remained confident.
If they clashed directly with powerful magic, he believed he would win.
The age gap meant a vast difference in total magic reserves—something that skill alone could not easily overcome.
Moreover, he had no intention of underestimating Tris. This decisive attack would be executed under the cover of smoke.
By now, he had fully realized that Tris was the greatest obstacle standing between him and victory in this tournament.
Zarek's magic was nearly complete.
Meanwhile, more stone walls continued to rise across the arena, indicating that Tris was not preparing a higher-level magic.
Confirming through his sensing magic that Tris had not moved from his position, Zarek unleashed his attack.
'You've held out well, brat. Now try to withstand this.'
With a powerful swing of his arm, a massive wave of earth surged across the arena.
It swept away every stone wall in its path, absorbing them into itself.
The wave struck precisely where Tris stood, turning that spot into a massive grave of earth and stone.
"Ha ha, victory is—"
Before he could finish, a searing pain exploded in his throat, cutting his words short.
Clutching his neck, Zarek collapsed.
It felt as though something had suddenly slit his throat.
The overwhelming pain choked his breath, his mind spun, and his vision blurred.
Unable to clearly perceive what was happening, the only thing that reached his ears was the voice of the referee—
declaring the match over,
with Tris as the winner.