The Forsaken Heir

As the gates revealed the Razorback Ravager, a ripple of surprise swept through the audience. The creature's massive size and spiked armor made it clear that this was no simple challenge, and murmurs of doubt quickly turned into outright skepticism.

"He's toast," someone muttered, their voice carrying over the buzz of the crowd. "No way a first-year can handle something like that."

"Did they give him the wrong challenge?" another voice chimed in, laced with disbelief. "That thing's built to shred anything in its path."

"Even third-years struggle against a Razorback," an older student added, shaking his head. "He doesn't stand a chance."

The criticisms echoed through the stadium, painting a bleak picture of Lorian's odds. The consensus seemed clear: the young Aeloria was outmatched. Many spectators leaned forward in their seats, more out of morbid curiosity than hope. They weren't expecting to see a victory; they were expecting a spectacle of failure.

Among the gathered students, Zephyr's smirk widened as he watched the Razorback claw at the ground, preparing to charge. "Serves him right," he muttered to those nearby, his tone dripping with disdain. "Let's see if he crawls back to his little meditation hole after this."

In the second-year section, Selene's violet eyes narrowed as she leaned forward, gripping the edge of her seat. You better not get yourself killed, Lorian...

High in the Aeloria box, Thaddeus's gaze remained fixed on his son, his expression unreadable as he scrutinized every movement. Beside him, Lady Sera's eyes shone with quiet confidence, a small, encouraging smile gracing her lips. Show them what you're made of, my son.

Amid the doubts and jeers, Lorian remained unfazed. He ignored the murmurs, his focus singularly locked on the hulking creature before him. As the Razorback Ravager began its charge, the only sound in his ears was the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.

Sensing an opportunity, Geralt leaned toward the nearby students with a glint of mischief in his eye. "Sounds like none of you have much faith in Lorian," he said, his grin widening. "Tell you what, let's make it more interesting. Who's betting against him?"

He shook a small pouch of coins, the metallic clinks drawing more attention. "Three to one that he doesn't last a minute against that thing," he continued, raising his voice just enough to catch the ears of those nearby.

The students exchanged uncertain glances before one scoffed. "You're actually betting on Lorian? He's not going to last thirty seconds."

Geralt shrugged, his grin unwavering. "Hey, if you're so sure he's going down, why not put your money where your mouth is?" He shook the pouch again, the coins clinking enticingly. "Three to one odds, or if you're feeling extra generous, I'll take two to one."

Slowly, more students began digging into their pockets, and coins changed hands as Geralt diligently recorded each wager. He shot a quick glance toward the arena, where Lorian stepped forward to meet the charging beast.

Come on, Lorian, he thought, make me a rich man and shut these fools up while you're at it.

Lorian wasted no time. As the Razorback Ravager thundered toward him, he broke into a sprint, charging straight at the beast. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. No one expected a first-year to face down such a massive creature head-on—especially not one with a reputation for having weak magic. The skepticism only deepened as Lorian's hands glowed with a faint golden light, signaling his use of light magic, a discipline he had long struggled to master.

Yet, as he ran, Lorian drew his sword and conjured a shield of light with his other hand, a defensive spell now wielded in an unorthodox manner. The shield of light flickered into existence, not as a vertical barrier but horizontal, hovering like a platform beneath his feet. The crowd murmured again, questioning what he was doing, but their doubts quickly faded as he leaped into the air, using the conjured shields as stepping stones to gain height and position himself above the Razorback.

The beast lunged, swinging its spiked tusks in a wide arc, aiming to swat Lorian out of the air. With a twist of his body mid-leap, Lorian narrowly avoided the tusks, the spiked tips whistling past him by mere inches. He landed gracefully on a shield just to the side of the creature's head, the impact sending a ripple through the light construct beneath him. Without hesitation, he drove his sword downward in a calculated strike aimed at a joint in the beast's armored hide where the plating was thinner.

The blade pierced through the hide, causing the Razorback to roar in pain and stumble. However, the blow wasn't enough to take it down, and the beast quickly regained its footing, swinging its massive head upward to dislodge the irritating swordsman. Lorian launched himself off the shield just as the tusks came crashing back, rolling to his feet on the ground below.

It wasn't just his magic that drew attention—it was the way he fought. Lorian seemed to dance around the Razorback's attacks, dodging in ways that brought him within inches of being struck. The near-misses were so close that even Lady Cerys was on edge, her fingers twitching with the urge to step in and halt the match.

"Relax," Aric murmured beside her, his voice low and calm. "He knows what he's doing."

The unpredictability of Lorian's movements made it difficult for her to know if and when she needed to intervene. What are you doing, boy? she thought, her frustration growing. Stop playing with danger.

Lorian's strategy soon became evident. Each seemingly reckless dodge was not without purpose. By drawing the Razorback into overcommitting with its attacks, he was able to expose vulnerable spots in its defenses. He weaved beneath a sweeping claw, rolled under a lashing tail, and used another shield of light to vault back up onto the beast's flank. His sword flashed as he drove it into the muscle behind the creature's front leg, severing tendons and slowing its movements even further.

The Razorback bellowed, each strike taking its toll, but Lorian's precision ensured that he avoided vital points that would end the fight too quickly. He wanted the beast to exhaust itself, to cripple it piece by piece. Using his shield platforms, he maneuvered around the Razorback's massive body with ease, his blade darting out to carve deep cuts in places where the armor gave way.

Selene's eyes widened in astonishment from the second-year section. Since when did he become so adept with light magic? she thought, her heart pounding as she watched Lorian fight with a fluidity and creativity that none of them had seen from him before.

In the Aeloria box, Thaddeus's expression was one of begrudging respect. His son's magic had always been considered the family's weak link, but now, it was as if Lorian had awakened to a new level of mastery. He watched with unblinking focus as Lorian continued his assault, skillfully avoiding the creature's wild swings while finding opportunities to strike back.

Lady Sera, however, paled as she watched her son. Her initial pride was replaced by a cold dread that settled in her stomach like a stone. She could sense the flow of magic within him, far stronger and freer than it should have been. The realization hit her like a jolt of ice—the seal I placed on him... it's gone. The subtle suppression she had woven into Lorian's magic, meant to protect him from overextending himself until he was ready, had completely dissipated. But how...? she wondered, her hands tightening on the armrest as she struggled to keep her composure. No one else seemed to notice, but to her, it was unmistakable.

The Razorback, with a bellow that shook the arena, made one last desperate attempt to crush Lorian under its weight. It reared up on its hind legs, intending to slam its entire bulk down on him, but the young Aeloria was already moving. Using another shield platform to vault himself even higher, he twisted mid-air and descended onto the creature's back. Planting his feet, he positioned his sword directly over a gap in the armor he had carefully exposed during the fight.

With a final surge of power, Lorian drove the blade down with both hands, the tip of the sword piercing through the exposed flesh and straight into the Razorback's spine. Light magic surged through the weapon, the energy crackling outward as it spread through the beast's body. The Razorback convulsed violently before collapsing in a defeated heap, its limbs twitching as the last remnants of energy left its massive frame.

As the dust settled, the arena fell into a stunned silence. For a moment, there was no applause, no cheers—only the echoing silence of thousands holding their breath, struggling to comprehend what they had just witnessed. Lorian, seemingly unfazed by the magnitude of his victory, casually sheathed his sword and walked off toward the section where the first-year students sat.

He took his seat without fanfare, his expression calm, as if he had merely completed an everyday task. The silence persisted, a lingering hush that spoke louder than any words of doubt or awe. Then, a voice boomed across the stadium, snapping the crowd back to reality.

"Thirty-six seconds!" the announcer's voice finally broke the spell. "A new record, and by an incredible margin!"

The stadium erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause, the sound cascading like a wave as it swept through the crowd. The doubters who had spoken against him moments ago were now left speechless, while those who had placed their bets with Geralt found themselves grumbling as they dug into their pockets.

Lady Cerys's stern expression softened slightly as she watched Lorian, a begrudging respect in her eyes. Despite his recklessness, there was no denying that the young Aeloria had done what no one had thought possible—and he had done it with a style all his own.

Standing beside her, Aric nudged her lightly with his elbow, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "That's my protégé," he said, the pride in his tone unmistakable.

Lady Cerys's eyes narrowed, irritation flashing across her features. Without a word, she released a surge of gravity magic, directing it toward Aric. The weight intensified instantly, pressing down on him with enough force to crack the ground beneath his feet. Yet, Aric remained unmoved, meeting her gaze with a casual smile, as if to say Is that all you've got?

The cracks spiderwebbed outward from where he stood, showing just how much pressure she had applied, before she withdrew her magic with a frustrated huff. "Keep your hands to yourself," she muttered, turning her attention back to the arena.

Aric chuckled softly, unfazed by her irritation. "Come on, Cerys," he said, a hint of playful defiance in his voice. "You looked like you could use some encouragement."

His gaze flicked back to the scoreboard, where Lorian's new record gleamed for all to see, the pride in his eyes unmistakable.

As the last few first-years took their turns, it became painfully clear that they were no match for the previous top performances. One after another, they fell short, unable to complete their challenges or being disqualified by Lady Cerys before they could finish. Not a single one managed to break into the top 100, much less challenge the established leaders.

Finally, the announcer's voice echoed across the stadium, signaling the end of the first stage. "The qualifier rounds have officially concluded! Here are the top 10 times from the day's battles!"

Top 10 Qualifier Times:

1. Lorian Aeloria - 36 seconds

2. Selene Aldoria - 1 minute, 24 seconds

3. Zephyr Nimbus - 1 minute, 26 seconds

4. Rhyssa Kilrift - 2 minutes, 4 seconds

5. Julian Veldt - 3 minutes, 17 seconds

6. Celeste Leclair - 3 minutes, 14 seconds

7. Vivienne Valenwood - 3 minutes, 21 seconds

8. Reynard Darrow - 3 minutes, 32 seconds

9. Alistair Thornfield - 3 minutes, 45 seconds

10. Isabelle Dunehart - 4 minutes, 10 seconds

As the cheers rose and fell, Lady Cerys took her place at the center of the arena once more. "Congratulations to those who have advanced," she announced, her voice commanding the crowd's attention. "The next round will push you even further, demanding more than just combat skills. Prepare yourselves accordingly—your true potential will soon be revealed."

Elara returned to the stands, having been treated by the academy's healers, and took a seat beside Lorian. "So, how'd it go for you?" she asked, still a bit pale but eager to know.

"It wasn't anything special," Lorian replied, downplaying his accomplishment.

Julian scoffed and shot him an incredulous look. "You ass," he said, unable to hide his admiration. "You shattered the record by nearly a minute, and you call that 'nothing special'?"

Vivienne and Celeste laughed at Julian's reaction, while Geralt gave Lorian a playful nudge. "I should buy you a drink," he said with a grin. "You just made me richer than I've ever been."

Lorian offered a small smile as he enjoyed Elara's shocked look, his gaze drifting back to the arena. His mind was already on the challenges that awaited in the next stage.