After the first three matches, the nervous atmosphere surrounding the first-years seemed to wane slightly. There were no grievous injuries or the like, and besides Stephanie and Jennifer's battle, the next few rounds were quite even.

The impact of Quinn's new combat techniques was quite shocking. Many of the nobles were outright stunned that mere thirteen year olds were brawling, using superior physical strength that should only be reserved for magical beasts.

It was to the point where the fights which only showcased magic seemed dull in comparison.

If Michael felt like this, then how would the noble attendees feel?

His eyes moved to Quinn who was wearing a satisfied smile by the side of the arena and couldn't help but feel his respect rise for the woman—and coincidentally the headmaster.

Sure, her sadistic classes were nothing short of torturous for he and his fellow students, but he had to admit that they'd benefited quite a lot from them. Not only was his physical fitness much greater than it was before enrolling at the academy, his control over his own mana was much improved.

Michael could now control the density of his mana at any given time, which in turn helped him make small adjustments to his spells while in the act of casting.

But perhaps the biggest surprise was the decision by the headmaster to allow the woman to teach his students such a technique. He wasn't exactly sure, but he had a feeling that it was only the first-years who had been subjected to such training.

Well, specifically the combat technique training. He had little doubt that the woman would not have forced the older students to participate in physical fitness drills no matter what.

After all, she was the one who always said "A stronger body makes for a stronger mage."

They sat through six rounds of battles which took about an hour and a half in total. Like this, the first round of the single elimination tournament for the first years had come to a close.

Rudy had been sighing constantly beside him, his thoughts obvious. He wanted to go out and fight already.

Since he was the first seed out of the whole class, the first round required him to have a bye—something that was obviously an advantage, but the guy didn't see it that way.

"The first round for our first-years is over," Quinn announced with a telling grin as her gaze traveled over the spectators. "We will now be moving onto the first round of the second-years."

"Wait what!? We don't do all of our rounds first?" Rudy balked, unable to hide his shock.

"Don't be ridiculous," Melody spat, shooting him a glare. "We need time to recover between rounds, you can't expect everyone to fight consecutively without rest…"

"But I haven't even fought yet…" he complained bitterly.

Michael shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Be patient man, you'll be able to fight to your heart's content soon enough…" he said, consoling the guy with a hand upon his shoulder.

In reality, he wasn't sure why the guy was so anxious to compete. He had already agreed to join Michael's noble house when he eventually created it, so there was no real need for him to show off his prowess here in front of the gathered nobles.

But upon thinking about it further, he realized his error.

Rudy didn't care about the nobles, he was just bored. Michael evaluated his friend, seeing the destitute expression on the teen's freckled face, his hazel eyes unfocused—as if he'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

Yes, he had seen this look many times in the past. Whenever they studied for longer than a few hours, or during a boring lecture from Professor Gabe in spellcrafting theory class.

A laugh escaped Michael's lips as he felt a weight off his shoulders. For some reason he had misread his friend's intentions, leading to some uncomfortable thoughts.

Rudy's expression faltered before he glared at him.

"What's so funny? Did you want to spar?" he said seriously, cracking his knuckles threateningly.

"Save your energy, we'll be meeting in the finals." Michael quipped, sending him a wink.

Since they were on opposite brackets, the only way they would be able to fight one another was if they both made it through to the finals—meaning they'd need to remain undefeated for four consecutive matches.

Melody scoffed in response, "Not if I beat you first," she interjected, nudging Michael with her elbow.

Michael grinned, feeling his spirits soar in that moment. How long had it been since she treated him like this? It seemed that after she had poured her heart out earlier, things were beginning to turn back to normal.

"Just don't cry when you're disappointed," he quipped with a wink.

Quinn then announced the first matches within the second year, revealing some faces unknown to Michael and the others. He only knew a few second years by name from his ancient languages class. And since he hadn't interacted with them much, that was all he knew.

Of course there was also Mason and Ren, the class representatives—but they were also likely seeded combatants and would face a bye in the first round.

When Quinn declared the start of the matches below, spells crackled into existence almost instantly—making for an eye-catching spectacle.

It was tough to follow, so Michael focused on the center platform where a red-haired boy was withstanding a fireball barrage from another teen. He looked calm and collected, his aegis spell soaking up the damage with ease.

He won't be able to keep up this barrage for long… Michael thought, his eyes focusing on the teen slinging fireballs.

The orange magic circle was a clear indication of his mana purity, and it essentially sealed his fate. He had already thrown out ten spells consecutively, and was beginning to falter.

One of the magic circles seemed to lag for a second or two, creating a brief opening.

The redhead wasted no time, casting aside his shield to manifest his own orange magic circle. A brilliant blue light flashed on the platform, blinding Michael in that moment.

By the time his eyes adjusted, the redhead teen had raised his hand, declaring victory.

"Huh what happened?" he muttered incredulously, only to see a slightly charred figure laying prone on the ground in defeat.

Michael couldn't help but suck in a cold breath of air. Would he have been able to block such a quick lightning attack?

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