The Cold Heir

The arena has transformed into a merciless proving ground where only skill and endurance matter. The weak have been purged, leaving only the true competitors—those who can't be brought down by mere tricks or raw power.

Ved remains motionless on his platform, his gaze flicking across the battlefield, assessing the remaining contenders.

Lyra, unsurprisingly, stands unchallenged. an aura of frost emanating from her very being, a silent but clear warning to anyone foolish enough to challenge her. Her presence alone seems to chill the air around her.

Ved barely has time to smirk before a gust of wind howls past his face.

A figure lands on his platform with a smirk dancing on his lips, not just from arrogance but from the sheer thrill of the challenge.

He's tall and lean, with a smirk that speaks volumes of confidence. The spear in his hand is held with such ease it might as well be a part of his body. His gray eyes are bright with the thrill of the impending clash. 

The badge on his uniform proudly declares him a noble from House Anil, one of the five elite families, alongside the Flacks and Dreadwalkers, famous for their control over wind magic.

The moment he lands, all eyes swing towards Ved's platform. It's not every day you see a clash between two such formidable opponents. 

The air crackles with tension, the wind itself seeming to pause in anticipation. Ved, with his mastery over ice, meets the gaze of the wind magic spearman from House Anil, a silent acknowledgment of the battle to come.

"Ved Flack," the young noble said smoothly. "It's an honor to meet one of the Flack family."

Even though Ved had recognized him the second he landed, he raises an eyebrow. "And you are?" 

"That wasn't the response I was expecting but fine" The youth twirls his spear. "Lee Anil. You'll want to remember my name after I knock you off this platform."

Ved scoffs. "You talk too much."

"Well, I apologize for that" Lee lunges at him.

The spear comes at him like a bolt of lightning, fast and precise. Ved sidesteps, the wind infused strike whistling past his ear. The platform beneath his feet vibrates slightly from the force, a testament to the power behind Lee's strike.

Lee doesn't let up. He launches a flurry of attacks—thrusts and sweeps designed to overwhelm. Each move is precise, calculated, the spear dancing in his hands like an extension of his body. 

The wind magic enhances every strike, making them faster, sharper, more unpredictable. But Ved moves through them like water, dodging with ease. He's not just avoiding his strikes, he's also studying Lee's every move.

He doesn't feel the need to fight back with magic or his sword. He doesn't have to. Not yet. His confidence is palpable, a quiet assurance that he's in control, even as the spear comes dangerously close.

Lee grins, his gray eyes gleaming with excitement. "What's wrong, Flack? Can't fight back?" His voice is taunting, but there's a respect there, an acknowledgment of Ved's skill.

Ved's foot lashes out, kicking the side of the spear just as Lee thrusts it. The hit is perfectly timed, the force throwing Lee off balance, his grip on the spear faltering for just a moment. In that split second, Ved steps in close, his movements swift and decisive.

He drove his fist into Lee's stomach, the impact made the air forced out of Lee's lungs in a sharp exhale, his eyes widening in surprise.

But he recovers quickly, straightening up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he laughs, a genuine, hearty sound that echoes across the platform. . "Good. You're not a disappointment."

Ved flexed his fingers. "You're quick, but you rely on that spear too much."

The air shifts.

A sudden gust swirls around Lee as he activates his wind magic. His movements blur, and before Ved can close the gap again, the spear is already coming at him—faster than before.

Ved blocks with his forearm, the impact sending a shockwave through his bones. The force sends him sliding back, his boots scraping against the platform, leaving faint trails in the dust.

Lee kept pushing. This time, his attacks hit harder. Each thrust of the spear is charged with wind magic, making it impossible to just dodge. The wind shifts unpredictably, throwing off the spear's path making it impossible to just dodge.

Ved has been forced to defend.

A powerful sweep catches him in the ribs, the impact sending a sharp pain through his side,

Ved exhales, his eyes narrowed. "Alright," he said, with a low voice.

His foot pivots, his stance shifting. His arm moves, muscles tensing.

Lee thrusts forward—only to find his spear caught in Ved's grip.

Ved tightens his hold, twisting just enough to disrupt Leon's momentum. Then, with a brutal knee strike, he slams it into Leon's chest, the impact echoing across the platform.

Lee stumbles back, but he isn't down yet.

Ved rolls his shoulders, his expression calm but focused. "Not bad," he said, acknowledging Lee's skill.

Lee grins despite the pain. "I'm just getting started." he replied, his voice carrying a challenge.

Wind howled as Lee planted his foot firmly and spun his spear, creating a vortex of razor-sharp air. The platform trembled under the force, the air pressure dropping as the wind gathered.

Ved grips the hilt of his sword, his fingers tightening around the familiar weapon. "Enough warming up."

The moment Lee thrusts forward, Ved draws his blade.

Ice coats the steel as Ved slashes, cutting straight through the wind barrier. The sheer force of the clash sends both of them sliding back.

Leon's footing falters, and Ved doesn't hesitate. He steps in, delivering a precise strike that sent Lee flying.

For a split second, it seems like Lee is about to be eliminated—until his body twists midair, and with a burst of wind magic, he redirected himself onto another platform. Landing hard, his knees buckling slightly under the impact. He's breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his brow, but he's still in the game.

Ved exhales, lowering his sword, the ice dissipating. As watches Lee, his expression is unreadable.

Lee chuckles, wiping sweat from his brow. "You almost got me there." he said, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and defiance.

Ved smirks. His eyes glinting with a quiet intensity "Next time, you won't be so lucky."