Tale of Vanguard

The arena erupted with thunderous cheers as the first battle of Bracket D concluded.

In the center of the arena, the dust and debris from the fierce battle still settled around the combatants. Standing tall and victorious was a representative of Thaloria Academy, who is also their kingdom's princess: Bastia Hart, a girl with striking brown hair that cascaded around her shoulders in loose waves. Her eyes sparkled with a fierce determination, reflecting the power she had just wielded. She wore a suit of battle gear that looked both functional and elegant, the design hinting at her ability to channel her power effectively.

Bastia stood in the middle of the arena, her presence was commanding and electric with the energy of her recent victory. Her brown hair, tousled and wild from the fight, framed a face flushed with the thrill of triumph. Her veil had clearly amplified her strength—her muscles were well-defined, visibly showcasing the power she had unleashed.

Her posture was confident and proud, a stark contrast to the boy lying defeated at her feet. He was sprawled on the ground, with exhaustion gnawing all over his body. The intensity of the battle had left its mark, and it was clear that Bastia's strength had been overwhelming.

As the crowd's roar filled the air, Bastia's gaze remained steady on her fallen opponent, her expression was a mix of respect and resolve. The cheers and applause from the stands washed over her, but her focus was unshakable. The fight had been tough, but she had emerged as the clear victor, as her victory was evident in her commanding stance and the reaction of the audience.

In the private stand overlooking the arena, Headmaster Orion stood up, clapping slowly,as he was genuinely impressed.

"As expected from the Princess of Thaloria."

He turned to Headmaster Dorian, who sat beside him, his expression as stern and unreadable as ever.

Dorian didn't reply right away, his eyes were still fixed on the arena where Bastia was being celebrated. After a moment, he let out a short "Humph," his gaze never wavering.

Orion chuckled quietly, familiar with Dorian's reserved nature. He knew that even though Dorian kept his thoughts to himself, he couldn't dismiss the talent they had just witnessed.

***

The anticipation in the arena was palpable as the crowd settled in for the final battle of the opening round. All eyes were on Bracket B, where Princess Seraphina would face off against a boy representing Thaloria Academy. The boy, who stood opposite of Seraphina as they stepped into the arena, was of medium height with tousled black hair, his sharp green eyes reflecting a fierce determination. His lean frame and confident stance hinted at the countless hours he had spent preparing for this moment.

Seraphina's indifferent gaze contrasted starkly with the boy's focused expression. She appeared calm, almost detached, as if the battle before her was merely another task to complete. High above in the stands, her sister Serephira watched closely, her face unreadable, giving nothing away as she observed the impending clash.

As the referee raised his hand and signaled the start of the match, the tension in the air thickened. Without a moment's hesitation, Seraphina unsheathed her sword. The blade gleamed with a frosty light, and as it caught the sunlight, tiny snow droplets seemed to fall from its edge, disappearing into the ground before they could touch it.

In a single fluid motion, Seraphina slid the blade across the ground, directing it toward her opponent. The earth beneath them rumbled, and with a swift, almost casual gesture, a massive iceberg erupted from the ground, surging forward with terrifying speed toward the boy. 

"Hey, wait!"

he shouted, his voice laced with sudden panic as he realized what was happening. But his protest was cut short as the iceberg enveloped him in an instant, freezing him solid. The sheer size of the ice formation was staggering—it towered over the arena, the tip of it crashing against the barrier that protected the spectators. The crowd gasped as the iceberg made contact, but the barrier held firm, shimmering under the impact, though visibly strained.

Seraphina stood there with her expression unchanged, her grip on the sword was steady as the last of the snow droplets fell from its blade. The boy was completely encased within the massive ice structure, as his form was barely visible through the thick, frosty layers. 

The arena was silent for a moment, the sheer magnitude of Seraphina's power leaving the audience in awe. Then, the crowd erupted into cheers and gasps of amazement, the intensity of the match already becoming the talk of the day. In the stands, Serephira continued to watch, her expression was still unreadable as she took in her sister's display of overwhelming strength. 

In the stands, Headmaster Veridicus sat frozen in disbelief, his eyes were wide as he took in the enormous iceberg that now dominated the arena. The sheer magnitude of the attack had caused a brief tremor that rippled through the entire stadium, shaking the very ground beneath them. He could hardly process the sight before him.

"That girl is a monster..."

He muttered, the words were slipping out as if he barely believed them himself.

Beside him, Headmaster Orion nodded, his gaze fixed on Seraphina, who stood in the arena with the same unyielding and expressionless face she'd worn throughout the match.

"If her sister was the Radiant Veilblade—bringing hope to her allies and those around her, then Seraphina is her opposite. She brings nothing but utter hopelessness to her adversaries."

Orion's eyes lingered on Seraphina's cold, impassive expression, as if trying to read something in her that wasn't there. With a faint, almost imperceptible sigh, he added:

"The Isolde Frostveil."

The title hung in the air, heavy with the weight of recognition. The audience's cheers still echoed around them, but to the headmasters in the private stand, the realization of Seraphina's power was a sobering one. While Serephira inspired hope and courage, Seraphina was the embodiment of relentless, chilling power—a force that seemed as inevitable and unforgiving as the ice she commanded.