Evan sneered, stepping closer to Calen until they were nearly nose to nose. “Afraid? Why would I be afraid of a pathetic worm like you? You dare to challenge me? Fine. I’ll crush you under my boot like the insignificant insect you are!”
The room erupted into laughter and jeers, the nobles and courtiers treating the challenge as a source of great amusement. The idea of Calen—Aerondale’s greatest disappointment—facing Evan, its most promising warrior, was nothing short of absurd to them.
Even King Ryan chuckled, his voice booming over the crowd. “This will indeed be an entertaining spectacle. Very well, Calen. I will allow this duel. Let us see what shred of honor, if any, you have left.” He paused, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “But let’s make this interesting. If, by some miracle, you win, not only will you avoid exile, but I will reinstate your honor. You will take your place in the military as a captain—or even a general!”
The hall exploded in laughter, the nobles doubling over at the idea of Calen holding such a prestigious title.
“Can you imagine?” one of them said between gasps. “The weakling Calen Storm giving orders in the military? He’ll probably trip over his own sword!”
“Don’t worry,” Evan called out, his grin broad and menacing. “He won’t make it that far. I’ll end this farce before it begins.”
Calen stood firm amidst the laughter and mockery, his resolve unshaken. His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, the once-familiar warmth of power coursing through him again.
“You’ll regret underestimating me, Evan,” Calen said, his voice low but steady. “I’ll prove to all of you that I am more than the man you think I am.”
Evan barked a laugh. “Bold words for a man who can barely stand. Fine, Calen. Let’s see if you have the courage to back them up. Meet me at the training grounds at dawn. And prepare to face your end.”
The room buzzed with anticipation as the crowd began to disperse, already treating the duel as a foregone conclusion. Calen, however, remained rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on Evan, who smirked smugly before walking away. Tomorrow, he would prove them all wrong.
The next morning, the training grounds were packed with spectators. Nobles, soldiers, and commoners alike had gathered, eager to witness what they believed would be a one-sided spectacle. Cries of “Evan! Evan!” echoed across the field as the towering warrior raised his massive sword high above his head, basking in the adoration of the crowd.
“You’ll all have a show to remember!” Evan declared, his booming voice drawing even louder cheers. He turned in a slow circle, his confidence radiating as if the duel were already won.
When Calen stepped into the arena, the cheers turned to mocking laughter and sarcastic applause. Dressed in his bloodstained, rain-soaked clothes from the day before, Calen looked like he was already defeated. His slight frame and unremarkable presence stood in stark contrast to Evan’s broad-shouldered, armored figure.
“Look! It’s the court jester!” one spectator shouted, drawing laughter from the crowd.
“He doesn’t even have proper armor!” another jeered. “This will be over before it starts!”
Calen ignored the taunts, his gaze fixed on Evan. His hand rested on the hilt of his family’s sword, the blade gleaming faintly in the morning sunlight. Beneath the surface of his calm demeanor, he could feel the energy coursing through him, stronger than ever.
Evan smirked, pointing his massive blade at Calen. “You’ve got guts for showing up, I’ll give you that. But guts won’t save you.”
The king, seated on an elevated platform overlooking the arena, raised his hand to silence the crowd. His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Let the duel begin! Show us your strength, Evan—and you, Calen… well I don’t have a word for you...” He finished with a laughter.
A hush fell over the crowd as Evan strode forward, his sword resting casually on his shoulder. “Come on, Calen. Make your move. Or are you too scared to swing that toothpick you call a sword?”
Calen unsheathed his blade in a fluid motion, its edge glinting with a strange light. The crowd murmured, noting something unusual about Calen.
“So you can pull out your sword now, huh? Let’s see what you can do!”
Evan lunged, his massive blade arcing toward Calen with devastating speed and power. The crowd gasped, expecting Calen to crumble under the first blow.
But Calen moved.
In a blur, he sidestepped the attack, his body lighter and more agile than anyone could have anticipated. Evan’s sword crashed into the ground, leaving a deep gash in the earth. Before Evan could recover, Calen was behind him, his blade poised and ready.
The crowd fell silent, their laughter replaced with astonished murmurs.
Evan turned, his expression shifting from smug confidence to confusion and anger. “What the—?”
Calen’s voice was steady, almost cold. “I told you not to underestimate me.”
The duel had only just begun, but the tide was already shifting.

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Evan laughed, his voice booming across the arena. "Just because you managed to dodge one swing doesn’t mean you’ve won, Calen!" He gestured at the ground, where his massive blade had left a deep scar in the earth. "You haven’t even seen a fraction of my true strength."The crowd cheered wildly, shouting for Evan to end the duel quickly. “Finish him, Evan!” someone yelled, while others laughed and jeered at Calen.Calen tightened his grip on his sword, his voice cutting through the noise. “Then stop holding back. Show me everything you’ve got!”Evan’s grin widened, his teeth flashing like a predator about to strike. "You dare challenge me, you worm? I’ll crush you like a cockroach beneath my foot!"The crowd erupted in cheers, chanting Evan’s name as he raised his massive sword high. The muscles in his arms tensed, his aura sukirging with raw power. The ground beneath him cracked as he launched himself forward with terrifying speed, his blade slicing downward with enough force to shatt
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The murmurs among the crowd grew louder, disbelief rippling through the arena.“This cannot be!” the king bellowed, descending from his elevated throne with a face flushed red with indignation. His voice carried authority, but beneath it, there was a tinge of unease.Calen, standing over Evan, kept his composure. “I’ve defeated him. That is the undeniable truth,” he declared, his voice cutting through the noise. He turned his sharp gaze toward Evan. “Now keep your word, Evan. Kneel, as you promised.”Evan’s fists trembled with fury as his jaw clenched. “I won’t kneel to you, you cheating scum!” he spat. “You didn’t win fairly. There’s no way someone like you could defeat me without trickery!”Calen raised an eyebrow, his grip on his sword unwavering. “If you’re so confident that I cheated, then prove it,” he challenged.The king stepped into the center of the arena, his cape billowing in the faint breeze. He raised a hand to silence the restless audience. “Enough!” he commanded. “This
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The arena erupted in gasps, followed by a wave of stunned silence. Even the king looked momentarily taken aback.“That’s impossible!” Evan shouted, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. “They must have missed something!”The lead mage’s gaze was stern. “Our magic cannot be deceived. The results are irrefutable.”Calen stepped forward, his sword still in hand. “Now, Evan,” he said calmly, his voice filled with authority, “will you keep your word, or will you tarnish what little honor you have left?”Evan’s face twisted with rage as the crowd waited in breathless anticipation for his response.“Your Majesty, this is utterly impossible!” Elijah Frost declared, gesturing toward Calen. “No disrespect to your esteemed mages, but surely there must be some trick at play. It’s inconceivable that a man of Calen’s… caliber could defeat Evan without some form of deceit or external aid.”Evan, seizing the opportunity, added with a sneer, “He’s right. There’s no way Calen suddenly became stron
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With a roar, he unleashed another bolt — this one targeted — aiming directly at Thalia’s shield. The impact flung her backward into two of her soldiers, sending all three sprawling.Still, they rose again.Lysandra rallied her forces, shouting orders. Lines of mages at the rear began weaving an intricate net of spells — golden threads of power that shimmered in the air."You cannot win here," Lysandra warned him, drawing her blade. Its edge was laced with runes that glowed faintly in the gloom. "This city was built to withstand monsters like you.""I am no monster," Calen growled, advancing. "I am the storm itself."He raised his arms, and the skies screamed.Bolts of pure, living energy rained down. The square became a maelstrom of blinding light and deafening thunder.But Vynoria’s warriors did not break.Their shields locked together, their enchantments wove a dome of protective magic around the main gates.And then— From the steps of the citadel, the High Priestess appeared, raisi
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