The Runic Alchemist

Damian took his seat among the audience, with his two assistants. Reize, too immersed in her designs, had opted not to join them. He didn't mind spending some free time; it was a refreshing break from his usual activities. Besides, whether Sam ended up getting his ass handed to him by the princeling or managed to kick the princeling's butt, Damian figured he would enjoy the show either way.

Of course Evrin, Einar, Grace, and Lucian were also present, having secured prime seats near the stage by arriving early, Einar even brought some snacks which Toph accepted graciously. The space was insufficient for all of them, though a quick conjuring of wooden benches resolved the issue, ensuring room for everyone. After last night's events, most people seemed to ignore Damian's presence entirely, as though speaking to him might land them on some Highsword blacklist.
Continue your saga on empire

"This will be the Master's 79th consecutive victory…" Said Elias, enthused, hyping his master yet again.

"Master? Why is he a master?" Damian muttered, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Most of the fifth-year students were present, their excitement palpable. Even the Dawnstar entourage, usually aligned with the prince, looked uncharacteristically tense. Lucian, sitting nearby, seemed unaffected. She often studied the fights, later recounting notable techniques during their nightly training sessions 'about who did what right and what moves and techniques were amazing.

Gravebreaker, the third-ranking pugilist professor, was in charge of today's duels, accompanied by the same second-ranker healer as last time. A line of students waited their turn, with Sam and the prince deliberately taking the final spots. Casual chatter passed between the two, though the noise drowned out whatever they were saying.

"Who do you think will win—Lady Ice Blade or Scarlet Knight?" asked a young, skinny beastmen girl with cute looking feline features.

Her name was Kishi or Mishi, Damian couldn't remember. She was a third-year student and self-proclaimed fan of Lucian and Einar, adorably referring to them as "Ice and Scarlet Blades," names supposedly coined by a fan community. Damian was speechless when he had met her two months ago and came to know what dumb things the younger students were up to. He rarely met them, being busy with his own work so he didn't know her that well.

She followed Einar and Lucian around—especially Einar, who treated her like a younger sibling, much like Evrin had once treated her when they had just arrived at the Eldoris castle.

"Sam has too many advantages," Lucian replied evenly before adding, "And don't call me that."

"I don't know much about Prince Maelor," Einar admitted with a proud smile, the one she would never show before Sam. "But Sam has trained tirelessly with me for four years. I'd be surprised if he loses."

"Hah! I'd love to see him get kicked in the face," Damian said with undisguised glee. "Maybe that'll wipe that annoying smirk off his face."

"You know very well that's not going to happen," Lucian said, casting him a cool look. "Maelor will have to struggle just to keep up with his second ranker stats."

Damian met her icy blue eyes, a sly smile playing on his lips. "That'll be just as enjoyable."

Lucian merely squinted at him before turning away, causing Evrin, Einar, and Lumi to giggle. It wasn't a secret that Damian bore a borderline disdain for the Dawnstar prince, as he rarely missed an opportunity to make a snide comment. Though Lucian had learned to ignore them.

Finally, Sam and Maelor stepped onto the stage, and the audience's excitement reached its peak.

Maelor struck first, his movements deliberate and practiced. A graceful lunge carried the weight of a flaming red aura sword, the blade aiming for Sam's midsection. Sam's sword came alive too with a sky blue perfectly structured aura blade, meeting Maelor's strike with a precise parry that sent golden sparks scattering harmlessly. Without pause, Sam pivoted smoothly and struck back, his blade sweeping toward Maelor's shoulder.

The prince deflected with a calculated flourish, his runic blade igniting with his mana in response. A burst of golden energy rippled outward from a golden runic circle, but Sam, unfazed, was too fast, he twisted into a low stance and surged forward, trails of faint blue lightning streaks leaving behind.

His blade sang as it cut through the air, the electric blue aura trailing behind like a storm's herald. Maelor barely managed to intercept, their swords colliding in a flash of brilliance that drew gasps from the audience.

Damian, of course, pocketed the spell of the day in his collection.

The prince's sword was a unique one. Damian could sense the mana of a push spell in his blade, but it occupied only half of the blade's surface. The remaining space bore traces of another spell.

Sam pressed the advantage, his strikes flowing seamlessly, each one faster and more precise than the last. His style lacked the artistry of Einar's or Lucian's swordsmanship; it was simple, but those simple moves had been mastered to perfection. Watching Sam execute them flawlessly felt like a work of art just as same.

Maelor found himself retreating, his counters overwhelmed by the sheer mastery of Sam's swordsmanship. Yet, the prince of Dawnstar held his ground, parrying and blocking the increasingly swift and powerful strikes with remarkable skill. That guy wasn't bad. Despite the mounting pressure, Maelor remained composed. Damian noticed a green runic circle forming near Maelor's face as he gestured with his free hand, whispering a fast and intricate chanting.

Sam noticed it too, increasing his speed to force the prince back toward the very edge of the elevated stage before he could finish. But he finished it anyway, just as the green runic circle completed and activated, Maelor channeled his mana into his blade's secondary spell. In an instant, a swirling tornado of intensifying winds formed between Maelor and Sam. To make matters worse, Maelor's sword displayed a red runic circle before unleashing a torrent of flames with incredible intensity and speed, wrapping the entire tornado in fire as it surged toward Sam. The attack gave Maelor a much-needed moment to regain his balance.

The use of such borderline fatal spells might have raised eyebrows elsewhere, but Gravebreaker seemed to think it was perfectly fine. Sam showed no signs of distress either, so the audience simply cheered louder. Even Damian joined in, though his hope of seeing Sam run for his life never materialized.

In the next instant, Sam's free hand conjured another sword, this one forged from pure sky-blue aura. Bolts of lightning crackled along its length, even more prominent than those on his actual blade—clearly a result of one of his unusual skills.

Smiling, he slashed through the fiery tornado as though it were nothing more than a smoke screen. Maelor, preparing to launch a counterattack, was caught off guard as Sam charged straight at him instead. The surprise made Maelor lose both his balance and the duel, as Sam's twin swords halted mere inches from his throat.

Gravebreaker intervened immediately, though the prince had already thrown down his weapon in surrender. Sam stepped back with a calm smile, but his aura—vivid and intimidating—left a stronger impression than his expression.

The crowd erupted in wild cheers at the display of aura blade materialization, a feat normaly only achievable by true masters of aura control.