Harem System In A fantasy World - Chapter 244: The last time
Chapter 244: The last time
The storm fell…
Every blade came down at once, screaming as they tore through the air and crashed into the dome in a relentless barrage, one after another, then three at once, then ten, then all of them in a cascading storm that turned the screens white and gray with dust and impact flashes as the dome shuddered again and again under the assault.
Chunks of stone flew outward while the whole arena reverberated with each strike.
“He’s trying to break through the defense first,” Lyra said, her voice low and thoughtful. “He doesn’t want to get close while that earth construct is still stable.”
Mira nodded. “And the other one knows it, that’s why he’s not chasing.”
Elion didn’t answer, but he agreed, because every move in this fight had purpose; there was no wasted energy, no flashy nonsense for the sake of the crowd, even the spectacular parts served a real function.
Then the dome cracked.
A single deep fracture spread across the top, then another, then a third, and the wind mage’s eyes gleamed as he thrust one hand downward, gathering the remaining wind blades into a single massive spear of swirling compressed air that spiraled violently as it drilled through the center of the cracked dome and detonated inside with a deafening boom.
The entire structure blew apart.
Stone exploded outward in every direction, and through the collapsing debris, the earth mage emerged, riding upward on a rising slab of rock like a platform from the fallen golem.
His expression had finally lost that calm heaviness as he thrust one arm outward and sent three giant stone lances rotating toward the wind mage in a triangular pattern, each one was thick as a tree trunk and spinning fast enough to tear apart the air around them.
The wind mage vanished from their path just before they collided, reappearing to the side in a burst of motion, but the earth mage had predicted it, and the moment he reappeared the rising slab beneath him split apart into five smaller chunks that launched forward like catapult stones.
One was aimed at his chest, one at his legs, one above his head to cut off escape, and two more from the sides.
The wind mage was forced into an awkward dodge, twisting his body hard as one chunk smashed into his shoulder and sent him spinning off course, his balance broken for the barest moment, and the earth mage didn’t waste it.
He stomped once more so hard that the platform below split wide open and a colossal stone hand erupted upward from beneath the wind mage, the fingers spreading out to crush him outright.
“He got him!” Aria gasped.
But the wind mage reacted at the last possible second, slamming both palms together and releasing a point-blank burst of compressed wind beneath himself, blasting his body upward before the hand could fully close, though the tips of the fingers still caught him and sent him flying with his sleeve torn and blood now visible along one side of his arm.
He landed hard on one knee atop a narrow current of air, breathing heavier now; his expression was no longer as playful.
The earth mage was breathing harder, too, though he hid it better, his chest only just beginning to rise more visibly as he reformed pieces of his shattered stone armor around his forearms and shoulders.
“They’re both getting worn down,” Isolde whispered, almost like she was afraid to break the tension.
“Not yet,” Elion said. “Not yet.”
And he was right, because neither of them looked anywhere near finished.
The wind mage rose slowly from his crouch. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and then smiled again.
But this time, that smile was different. It looked like the expression of someone who had stopped enjoying himself and had decided it was finally time to end things.
He raised both hands again, but instead of dozens of smaller attacks, the air across the entire battlefield began to shift, not in obvious gusts but in strange distortions, as though invisible walls were being erected and folded and compressed into tighter and tighter layers around the earth mage’s position.
The crowd, which had been roaring nonstop until now, actually began to quiet a little as people sensed the change even if they didn’t fully understand it.
“What’s he doing?” Aria asked, frowning.
Elion narrowed his eyes.
The earth mage seemed to understand at the same time, because his expression also changed for real.
His eyes hardened as he slammed both hands into the ground once again and forced huge pillars of rock to rise beneath him, lifting his whole position higher as if trying to escape the invisible pressure forming around him, but the wind mage’s hands clenched, and the air snapped inward.
The stone pillars shattered. Not from impact, but from an invisible pressure. As if some giant’s unseen hand had crushed them from all sides at once.
The earth mage dropped through the broken rubble, barely managing to land on another slab of rock, but more layers of pressure were already forming around him, squeezing the space tighter and tighter, twisting dust and pebbles in unnatural ways as the battlefield itself began to groan.
“That looks… terrifying…” Mira murmured. Elion had to agree. This kind of wind magic was on another level. It didn’t even look like wind magic anymore.
The earth mage roared, finally showing true strain as mana burst out of him in a dense brown wave, every remaining piece of stone on the platform lifting into the air and rushing toward him, and forming a massive ring of layered earth around his body, then a second, then a third, each one rotating in different directions, grinding against the air with a deep rumble.
Then he thrust both hands outward.
The rings exploded apart and surged toward the wind mage like a collapsing mountain, huge slabs and sharpened fragments all moving at once with overwhelming weight behind them.
The wind mage didn’t dodge. He thrust one hand out, and everything in front of him split.
The rushing wall of stone was cut open down the middle by an invisible force, the halves flying apart so violently that they smashed into the barrier walls around the arena and made the viewing screen flicker with dust and glare.
And then he was already through the opening.
Too fast.
He appeared in front of the earth mage with one hand outstretched and palm open, and released a point-blank blast of wind so compressed that it looked almost invisible until it hit.
The earth mage crossed both arms, stone wrapping around them in a last-second brace.
Boom!
He was launched backward so brutally that he bounced across the ruined platform, skidding through broken rock before barely managing to stop himself at the edge.
He was on one knee now, breathing hard and with blood at his lips.
The wind mage landed lightly, but not perfectly, his own breathing now clearly strained, one arm hanging a bit lower than before from the damage he had taken, yet his eyes never left his opponent.
No one in the waiting room was speaking anymore. Everyone was just watching with suspense.
The earth mage slowly stood up again, the remains of his construct crumbling off him as he straightened his back and exhaled through his nose, and for a second, both men simply stared at each other across the destroyed battlefield, battered, bleeding, and still very much ready to continue.
Then the earth mage lifted one hand, and the entire ruined center of the platform shook.
“What now…” Lyra whispered.
The broken battlefield began to rise, not in pieces this time, but all at once; the entire central section lifted under his control, great slabs of stone folded and stacked into one another, compressing, hardening, taking shape until a gigantic spear of earth formed above him, so large that the people in the front rows of the arena visibly recoiled as of afraid it would be thrown at them.
The wind mage looked up at it once, then spread his hands slowly as all the air in the arena seemed to rush toward him at once.
His clothes whipped violently, his hair snapping back, and a dense sphere of revolving wind formed around his body, then flattened, lengthened, sharpened, becoming a massive drill of screaming white air that tore up dust and pebbles from the entire battlefield.
“Oh, this is it,” Tessa said, almost gleefully. “The final clash.”
The earth mage roared and sent the spear downward.
The wind mage shot upward to meet it.
They collided in the middle of the screen.
For a moment, there was no explosion, only resistance, a giant spear of earth pressing against a screaming drill of wind, both spells grinding against each other while cracks spread through the stone, and the air around the clash warped and screamed from the pressure.
Then both men pushed harder. Mana surged.
The screen flashed white, and the whole arena shook.
The collision exploded outward in a violent ring, dust swallowing everything, the barrier around the battlefield rippling visibly from the force as broken stone rained down across the platform.
Everyone in the waiting room leaned forward instinctively.
No one blinked, and no one breathed. Slowly, the dust began to clear.
One figure was still standing, only barely.
The wind mage.
His body was swaying, one arm hanging limp, his chest was heaving, blood was running from the side of his head and down his neck, but he was still on his feet.
The earth mage lay collapsed in a crater below, half buried in shattered rock, unmoving except for the faint rise and fall of his chest.
The hostess’ voice finally cut through the silence, breathless with excitement. “Winner… Dextor!”
And then the arena erupted.
The crowd roared so loudly that even through the muffling walls of the waiting room, it felt like the building itself might crack.
Tessa let out a low whistle. “Wow… What a fight.”
Mira nodded slowly, her eyes still on the screen. “No wonder they’re seventh years.”
Aria hugged herself slightly. “I don’t think I could survive two seconds against either of them.” She seemed to be remembering yesterday’s events.
They all noticed, but no one moved to comfort her or anything. That was not what she needed right now.
But Elion felt like it would be awkward if he didn’t comment on it at least.
“Neither could most people,” Elion said quietly, still watching the screen, his eyes thoughtful now rather than stunned. “But that’s what makes it useful.”
Mira looked at him. “Useful?”
He nodded once. “Watching them. The way they choose their moments, the way they commit only when they’ve already taken the field apart piece by piece, the way they build toward a finish instead of chasing it from the start.”
Tessa grinned. “You sound like you want to fight them.”
Elion’s lips twitched faintly. “One day.”
They all laughed audibly as the murmurs from everyone else in the waiting room reached a crescendo.
…
The host’s voice rang out through the arena, loud and clear.
“A short break before the next round begins!”
The tension that had built up from the previous fight eased slightly as people shifted, stretched, and began talking again, some still going on about the seventh year’s battle, replaying moments, arguing over who had the better technique, who had held back, who could have won if things were different.
Before long, the break ended.
“And now—” the host’s voice rose again, filled with excitement, “the second group of first years for today!”
Numbers began to flash. Elion looked at his chest.
’So… It is time.’ The moment he had been waiting for had finally come.
Elion’s heart slowed.
Everything around him seemed to dull slightly, the chatter, the movement, even the lingering excitement in the air; it all faded into the background as a strange, eerie calm settled over him.
He stood up.
“It’s your turn to fight now, but my hands are itching,” Tessa said with a grin. Elion just laughed lightly.
“Don’t lose,” Lyra added calmly.
Mira looked at him quietly, her expression softer than usual,”…Be careful.”
It sounded ridiculous, but they all knew who he was going to fight. The message hidden behind it was, “Be careful not to kill him.”
Honestly, Elion did not know what he was going to do. He couldn’t hurt the guy too much before the match was called, that was if William even showed up.
Best case scenario, Elion accidentally’ kills William. He just had to be fast enough that the proctor would be caught off guard.
However, thoughts were simple; executing and acting on your thoughts was another matter. Would he be able to strike without mercy when the time came?
’I guess we will see.’ He thought. But he already planned to act on it in his mind if the opportunity presented itself.
A part of Elion told him that a swift death was too merciful. This guy had made his life hell. And then he had hurt his woman. He did not deserve a swift death.
Aria stepped closer immediately, grabbing his arm tightly. Elion snapped out of his daze.
’I blanked out.’ He realised. ’I will decide how to handle this when I’m out there.’
“You’d better win,” she said, though there was something deeper behind her words, something she didn’t say out loud.
Isolde hesitated for a moment, then spoke softly. “…Good luck.”
Elion looked at all of them. Then smiled lightly. “Of course.” He turned and walked step by step toward the door and out into the tunnel.
None of them knew that this was the last time they would see him for months.
