Chapter 10
I don't know how, but my brother caught wind of our battle.
Somehow, he managed to call every Noble present to witness it—here, in his so-called battle arena.
Seriously, how rich is he?
A battle arena?
That's too much, even for him.
The sheer extravagance of it nearly rivals that of our father.
Either he's been secretly funded by him, or he's built all of this with his own wealth—which is hard to believe considering how prideful he is about doing everything his way.
No handouts.
No charity.
Just pure ambition and arrogance.
Still, even with all this pressure, I feel... ready.
This will be my first real fight.
I have no experience—none—but I trust that fate has guided me here.
If my talk with my brother goes well after this, everything might finally begin to move.
The arena was vast, carved from polished white stone, with seals etched into the walls and floor.
A circular battlefield stretched out in the center, easily large enough to hold a war squad—and yet it had been designed for duels.
A series of tiered seats wrapped around the area, packed with finely dressed Nobles, each cloaked in pride and family honor.
Above them, the upper floors were reserved for only the highest.
And there, on a chair fit for kings, sat my brother.
Ryler.
His silver hair shimmered under the floating light-crystals embedded into the ceiling, and his massive frame was hard to ignore—muscles tightly sculpted even beneath his finely tailored black suit.
His presence alone could silence a room.
His sharp blue eyes gazed down at the arena with interest, a knowing smile playing across his lips as he casually stroked his well-groomed beard.
I hate to admit it, but the man looks majestic.
Of course, I'm still more handsome than him.
Not that it matters much—I can't grow a beard yet.
A shame, really.
I always imagined I'd look like Merlin in his older years: wise, intimidating, a bit mystical.
But apparently, fate has other ideas.
Seated beside Ryler was his wife.
That still shocked me.
Of all the people I thought capable of calming the storm that is my brother, she was the last I expected.
And yet she sat there with grace, her orange hair flowing down to her waist like liquid fire.
Her noble dress, intricately embroidered, did well to conceal her figure—but even so, it couldn't fully hide her seductive curves.
Her aura demanded attention, yet she wore it with a calm pride.
Behind them, in two less ornate chairs, sat Olivia—my wife—and her sister, Grace.
They were the only other ones seated on the upper floors.
Everyone else—the other Nobles, warriors, mages, and curious spectators—watched from below like an eager tide.
I exhaled slowly and lifted my gaze toward Ryler.
The look in his eyes made it clear—he never hated me.
If anything, he loved me too much.
That's why I'm doing this.
Not just for the knowledge I'll gain in battle, but to shift the image he holds of me.
One worthy of standing beside him.
And maybe… if Grace sees it too, she'll stop trying to kill me and looking at me like I'm too fragile to protect her sister.
Maybe Olivia's said something about me—something good.
I can only hope.
But right now, none of that mattered.
Not as I stared forward at my opponent.
Brook.
The man talked a lot, but his strength wasn't something to mock.
He was built like someone born on the battlefield.
A solid, muscular frame.
Thick gloves etched with fire seals.
And his mana—it pulsed like a furnace.
Suddenly, my brother's voice rang out, deep and commanding, reaching every corner of the arena.
"My little brother, Lucas, has made a challenge. Because of the terms signed in the mana contract, neither party can refuse. Death is allowed. Only the weak will die. Begin the match."
A hush swept over the crowd.
Then—
FWOOM
Brook raised his wand in a blur, chanting under his breath.
In an instant, searing fireballs erupted into existence—more than a dozen of them—each one flying straight toward me.
But I saw it all.
With Mana Eyes activated, I could see the strands, the flow, the points.
My fingers moved instinctively, flicking invisible threads of mana toward the fireballs.
I struck their centers with precision, disrupting the cores.
Puff-puff-puff-puff— each fireball vanished before they could touch me.
But then came the dragon.
A roaring blaze in the shape of a serpent burst from Brook's wand, twisting through the air, teeth gnashing, heat surging.
I dashed to the right.
BOOOOOOOM
The spot where I'd just stood exploded into a vortex of flame and dust.
Stone cracked, smoke filled the air, and heat swept past my cheek like a slap.
No time to pause.
No time to breathe.
I was still running, weaving, ducking beneath spiraling flame and bursts of fire-mana detonating across the floor.
"[Fire Spell: Chains.]"
The words came cold and quick.
Flaming chains burst from the ground, whipping toward me with terrifying precision.
I dodged one—then another—but Brook wasn't moving.
That was what made it worse.
He was standing still, using precise wand movements to guide the chains and trap me like a rat.
He wanted to herd me into a corner and land a final, devastating blow.
I could see it clearly now.
He was playing with me.
But that was fine.
I just needed an opening.
His defense was weak.
His stance—too arrogant.
I only needed one chance—
[Mana Spell: Mana Burst]
I turned sharply, wand raised, eyes locked onto the fiery chains closing in from my flank.
With a flick of my wrist, a burst of pure mana erupted from the tip of my wand.
The air shimmered as the raw force tore through the approaching chains, obliterating them in an instant.
Mana crackled in the air like electricity.
Then, without pause, I spun my wand again—this time aimed straight at Brook.
He was smirking.
He thought he had me figured out.
But I had already seen through his next move.
My Mana Eyes revealed the weave of energy dancing around him—the build-up of a complex fire spell just beneath the surface.
[Mana Spell: Barrier]
BOOOOM!
A dragon of flames surged from the ground, roaring to life with molten fury, aiming to devour me whole.
But my barrier expanded around me in time, a dome of rippling energy that withstood the creature's wrath.
The dragon crashed into the shield.
A wave of intense heat washed over me as its fangs bit against the magical surface.
BOOM!
It exploded in a burst of fire and smoke, but I stood firm.
[Mana Spell: Slashes]
Mana gathered around my wand, shaping into translucent, blade-like arcs.
I launched a series of razor-sharp slashes toward Brook, cutting through the dense smoke that now cloaked the battlefield.
He couldn't see me.
But I could see him.
The haze was meaningless before my Mana Eyes.
Every twitch of muscle, every shift of footing—my vision tracked it all.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Each strike landed perfectly—but not on him.
Brook had dodged every slash, weaving with uncanny agility as he advanced toward me, his own wand glowing with rising power.
I didn't wait.
He began casting—and so did I.
But unlike him, I wasn't just replicating the spell.
I was creating it in real-time through my skill: [Understanding].
[Mana Spell: Dragon]
[Fire Spell: Roar of Bursting Flames]
A colossal dragon, forged from raw mana, surged forward from my position.
It collided head-on with a massive wall of fire—a roaring wave of bursting flames conjured by Brook.
The impact shook the ground as the arena trembled under the pressure of colliding forces.
My dragon shielded me from the bulk of the blast, the residual flames whipping past my shoulders and scorching the air behind me.
I smiled.
And then—Telekinesis.
Rocks and debris from the fractured ground rose into the air around me like soldiers answering a call.
[Mana Spell: Reinforcement]
I flooded them with mana, fortifying their structure.
They sharpened into makeshift spears—dozens of them—hovering mid-air before launching like a storm toward Brook.
His eyes narrowed.
The confident smirk was gone.
He raised his wand quickly, casting spell after spell as a fiery barrier enveloped him.
[Fire Spell: Fire Arrows]
Arrows of fire shot out, meeting the first wave of spears midair.
Some were destroyed.
Others faltered.
But several broke through.
And the largest of them all—almost as tall as a man—rushed toward him like a missile, the wind howling in its wake.
Brook's expression shifted.
[Fire Spell: Dragon's Roar]
A dragon of fire materialized again—its mouth wide open—before unleashing a cataclysmic torrent of flames.
The biggest spear was engulfed and turned to ash mid-flight.
It was a spectacular counter.
But Brook never saw me coming.
In the moment he unleashed his spell, I had already used the smoke and debris as cover, blinking to his side with silent footwork, barely a whisper in the magical turbulence.
I appeared beside him—my wand already touching his arm.
[Mana Spell: Prison]
[Mana Spell: Chain]
In a flash, a box-shaped prison of mana snapped into existence, trapping Brook inside.
Chains wrapped around him instantly, snaking across his limbs and torso, tightening with precision and glowing.
They didn't just bind his movement—they sealed his mana.
Brook's eyes widened.
He struggled, but it was too late.
I stood tall, lowering my wand with calm elegance, voice steady and clear despite the exertion.
A Noble through and through—even in combat.
"I win."
My words echoed across the stunned arena.
And then, like threads drawn from different directions, three small streams of light flowed toward me.
One from Brook.
Another from Elizabeth.
And the last from Maron.
The Mana Contract had activated.
Each stream carried memory, knowledge, and intent—all agreed upon in the contract they had signed.
No one dared resist.
To violate the terms would mean damage—or outright destruction—of the mana core.
A fate worse than death for any mage.
I absorbed the threads in seconds.
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