On their way out of the private room allocated to the mages, the group was met by the anti mages. Syryn ignored the pointed look that was sent his way, courtesy of a certain tall blonde trying to get his attention. He focused his gaze on the beautiful lady that was escorting the anti mages.

Her high collared dress was an eye catching - body hugging piece that revealed the kind of curves known to cause fatal damage to the hearts of men. With an interested smile on her face, the lady swept her gaze over the mages and finally she addressed their professor.

"Artemus, I look forward to seeing the results of your hard work."

The young professor stood straighter and spoke with a deference that mirrored his body language, "Lord Chancellor, I cannot claim credit for how hard they've worked. I only had but to guide their already existing potentials." Syryn thought Artemus was playing down just how much he had exerted himself for the mages. Casting his anti mage field for hours daily almost every day had been no joke, especially for a sick man.

The Lord Chancellor was Winter Fortress' equivalent of King Hill's Head Magister. Her severe black cloak with the anti mage crest, which was draped casually over the shoulders, was the only indication of her affiliation.

"Is that so? I'll be glad to see them beat my students if only to knock them down a peg. It'll be good for both schools," She turned away and began to walk ahead with a final word, "Good luck little mages."

After the anti mages had put distance between them, Corvus excitedly turned to Magnus. "She just gets hotter every year! Her husband is so freaking lucky right? that body is so lethal! mommy!" The energetic boy pumped his fist in the air for having received the chance to appreciate the Lord Chancellor's exemplary example of a womanly figure. Magnus pressed a hand to his eyes and groaned from second-hand embarrassment.

Throwing an arm around Corvus, he tugged the green-haired mage close and whispered in his ear, "By the way, that lady you just said some nice things about, she's the professor's mother." Magnus then silently patted the boy who was attempting to wrestle his soul back into his body.

Stepping out into the arena to the boos from the anti mages refreshed Syryn's spirits. King Hill's students were putting up an impressive fight with their cheers but it seemed like the anti mages had more support from the crowd. Syryn could see that Saint's Moon students were more restrained in their behaviour.

Future priests, priestesses and healers, their gentle smiles and friendly overtures were reserved for the anti mages. Lillith could be seen seated with her other novice priestess friends, smiling at the words that they were filling her ears with. Their eyes would occasionally drift towards a blonde anti mage seated under the bright tent that housed the Winter Fortress fighters, support staff, and VIPs that included high ranking members from their guild.

Syryn snorted and followed Artemus to their own tent. The seating arrangement of the crowd was distributed corresponding to the placement of the tents. If a cross was drawn dividing the circular arena into four quadrants, the tents were placed on the east and west ends of the cross where the mages and anti mages were seated facing the centre. The Northern arc was occupied by Saint's Moon and other invited schools. On the southern arc, ticketed spectators were found.

The event began with a performance by Saint's Moon. It was a graceful dance that incorporated the effects of elemental magic on the sinuous dancing bodies of both men and women on the central stage. Syryn thought it too underwhelming for a stage that was about to witness violence. A few words of encouragement were then spoken by the heads of both schools before the fighting began in earnest.

Round 1 was a matchup between Drake and Vincent. The sturdy elevated stage they fought on had colored gems embedded into the vertical walls; ten gems each on either side that flashed commensurate to the power output of the fighters. It helped the audience visualise the invisible struggle of magic versus the anti mage field.

Drake lit up 7 gems to Vincent's 8. Their protracted spar concluded when the bell went off indicating the end of the match. Drake was eliminated but this time, he left the arena with a satisfied smile considering how hard he had pushed Vincent. The boos were no longer loud but it still hurt the King Hill students who wanted first match victory.

"Your highness, that was a most wonderful display of light magic," Magnus acknowledged his friend's ability to cleverly use light's defensive nature which he turned into offence. There weren't a lot of mages that used it offensively owing to the lack of techniques known to men. Light mages almost always ended up joining Saint's Moon that had a monopoly over the secrets of this type of magic.

The other fighters took to battle one by one. At the end of the elimination round, the results were a pleasant surprise to the mages. Magnus, Lensa, and Unri had won their fights leading to an equal number of anti mages and mages in the quarter-finals. Corvus was just as strong as Lensa but he had met with one of the best anti mages only next to Rowan. The green-haired mage had lost his bout with Rain, the cool anti mage girl whose popularity rivalled Lillith's.

Quarterfinals came around after a half an hour break that allowed the fighters to recover from their intense battles. During the break, Syryn had gotten wind of the betting pool that overwhelmingly favoured Winter Fortress, and to the dismay of his professor, he sunk in a thousand Crowns - the entirety of the fortune that Rowan had sent him - into the betting pool.

"You're that confident?" Artemus curiously asked.

"Not really. But if I'm gambling, I go all in, professor," the reckless student replied.

"Your match comes first after the break ends. I'll be counting on you to set the mood for the matches that follow." Artemus informed him after watching the bag of money disappear behind a desk.

As soon as the break had ended, Syryn was thrust into the limelight. Disdaining faces wrote away the fight in favour of his opponent, a young anti mage with a clean appearance. For some reason, the boy seemed to have an intense dislike for Syryn and he made it known to the mage.

"You're the mage that serves Rowan," The boy began with a mocking sneer.

Serve?! Syryn did not serve Rowan! It was the idiot anti mage's precious Rowan that had begged Syryn!

"You couldn't get his attention with your potions so you've resorted to this. Little alchemist, show me just how pathetic your magic is!" The anti mage shot out his field, lighting up 7 gems. On Syryn's side, his gems remained as dark as the face of the blonde who had heard the entire conversation.

When Syryn's gems refused to light up, boos filled the arena. Even the King Hill mages remained silent at the lack of action from their unknown fighter. Worried and angry, some of them insisted on raising their voices, calling out Syryn's name encouragingly.

The surprised alchemist turned to look at the few students that supported him. He couldn't disappoint them now, could he?

In a flash, the mage was in front of his shocked opponent. The boy couldn't react quick enough to Syryn's sudden attack. A sharp elbow to the chin, a knee shot to his groin and a graceful spinning round kick to the chest sent the anti mage out of the battle stage. Syryn's unprepared opponent had taken an unexpected flight that landed at the feet of Rowan - a calculated move on the alchemist's part.

"Well, shit," Corvus said in a whisper.

Magnus placed a hand on his mouth to cover the wide grin that threatened to split his face.

"I guess that's the shortest match on record," Drake added. "Why do I feel like he's trying to provoke Rowan?"

Lensa grinned delightedly at the spectacle. If there was one thing she could get behind, it was pissing off the other two schools.

According to the rule book - If a fighter exited the stage, it was considered a win for his opponent. Consequently, this match had been all over in a matter of 3 seconds. The magic gems had remained dark and the audience had gone silent, and that lasted all but a second after which the students in purple and gold began to throw stuffed winged lion plushies in the air. This noble animal was King Hill's crest as well as its school mascot.

What a show of strength Syryn had displayed to the crowd! A mage beating an anti mage with nothing but his martial strength was a double injury to Wintress Fortress' pride. Martial prowess was the anti mage's stock in trade, and to have it used with overwhelming success against their own just added salt to their loss of an injury.

And when the anti mage had pathetically landed at Rowan's feet, the blonde boy's eyes never strayed from Syryn. The alchemist stood above Rowan and stared at him, head held high and a challenge in his eyes.

Syryn broadcasted arrogance - a declaration stamped all over his cocky attitude on the battle stage. If Winter Fortress did not have a reputation to maintain, or a Lord Chancellor to scare them into submission, the arena would have exploded into a riot - the only apt reaction to Syryn's disrespect of their Academy.

The space between Syryn and Rowan was thick with an electric charge that sent the blonde's heart racing. No one had ever so blatantly disregarded the anti mages and challenged their champion. It should have angered him but he only felt a rush of excitement that pumped inside his chest like a beast.

His alchemist was unlike any other!

"No magic," Vincent numbly stated. "Why didn't he use magic?"

"It's more fun this way," Rain replied. "Dorian deserved it for provoking him."

"Fun? Aren't you curious about his magic powers? He could just be a martial expert for all we know."

"Weak alchemist my anti mage arse," another participant grumbled. "Who was it that was complaining about 13-year-old geniuses not having time to train?"

Rain sucked on her tart iced popsicle and ignored the way Vincent winced. Life was too short to regret the words they had spoken.

"Calm down, we've got Rowan. Sure, Syryn beat Dorian but the kid is new and inexperienced. That's how he was caught off-guard." She slapped the blonde's back with a smacking sound that let the listeners know how hard she hit. "I'll eat plain porridge as breakfast every morning for a year if Syryn even comes close to matching our champion's martial moves, right Rowan?"