Ian steadied his breathing, feeling the mana humming beneath his skin like a restless tide. The look on Eve's face said it all...she hadn't expected him to turn the tables so quickly. The cheers from the crowd had quieted to murmurs now, a mix of awe and disbelief. Only minutes ago, they had laughed and called him a coward. Now, no one dared to interrupt the blazing storm forming between the two of them.

But Ian knew the truth....this wasn't even close to his real power. He wasn't an initiate like the rest of them. He wasn't some inexperienced student still fumbling through basic spells and incantations. His control ran deeper, his connection to mana sharper, almost instinctual. The only problem was his combat experience...and now he has adapted a little.

Before coming here, Queen Cassie , Piper and Chloe had made it very clear....blend in, observe, don't draw attention. They didn't want questions. They didn't want eyes turning toward him before the time was right. And so, even now, standing on the dueling platform with adrenaline pounding in his veins and a chance to put Eve in her place, he had to restrain himself.

He tightened his grip, forcing his mana to stay within the confines of the lower-tier spells, the kind that any initiate could cast. But even at this level, his control over the element was far beyond what most could manage. His flames were sharper, denser, and more alive.

Eve lunged forward, trying to regain her momentum, her whip of fire cracking toward him. Ian sidestepped, his movements smooth and deliberate, letting the strike pass dangerously close before he retaliated with a surge of flame that knocked her backward. The crowd erupted in gasps again as she stumbled, her balance faltering.

Eve gritted her teeth, planting her feet firmly. Her confidence was slipping, her composure breaking under the weight of his steady attacks. Each blast he sent her way seemed to chip away at her control. She tried to form a counterspell, a complex spiral of heat and air, but Ian disrupted it with a simple wave of his hand, his lesser spell colliding with hers and unraveling it before it could form properly.

She glared at him, frustration flashing across her face. "You're not supposed to be this strong," she hissed, her voice sharp between breaths.

Ian's lips curled slightly, though he said nothing. Deep down, a part of him wanted to answer her....to tell her that this was barely a fraction of what he could really do. That if he let loose, the duel would already be over. But he swallowed the urge, reminding himself of the promise he'd made.

He'd keep his secret. For now.

Still, there was no denying the satisfaction he felt watching her struggle. Eve, the undefeated prodigy of the class, was now on the defensive, forced to shield herself from an opponent who hadn't even broken a sweat. Her spells grew sloppier, her movements more frantic. The elegance she'd displayed at the beginning of the fight had faded into raw desperation.

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder. Some whispered his name, others gasped each time his magic flared. Even Gendry looked uneasy now, glancing at Mistress Adira as if seeking silent permission to step in.

Ian took one slow step forward, fire flickering faintly at his fingertips. "You should yield," he said calmly.

Eve's eyes widened, her pride stung by the suggestion. "Never," she snapped, forcing more mana into her spell, even though it was clear she was running out of strength.

Ian sighed, the faintest trace of pity crossing his features. "Then brace yourself."

He raised his hand again, gathering his mana....still within the limits of an initiate's level, but amplified by precision and mastery. The fire gathered around his palm, swirling in perfect formation, before he sent it forward in a single, powerful wave. It wasn't wild or uncontrolled; it was clean, efficient, and devastating.

Eve tried to block it, but her barrier shattered like glass. The impact sent her tumbling backward, landing on the stone floor with a thud. The crowd fell silent, all eyes on Ian as the last of his flames dissipated into the air.

He didn't gloat. He didn't smile. He simply turned his gaze away, lowering his hand. He had made his point.

Eve lay there, panting, her pride wounded far more than her body. The silence around them hung thick...until finally, Gendry raised his hand. "Match over," he declared, voice shaking slightly. "Winner....Ian Grey."

The crowd erupted into stunned chatter.

Ian glanced briefly at Eve, who was still catching her breath. For a moment, their eyes met...hers filled with defiance, his calm and unreadable.

Ian stood there for a moment after the crowd began to disperse, the mumurs fading into the background. Eve was still seated on the ground, one hand resting on her knee, the other brushing a strand of hair away from her flushed face. Her pride was wounded far more than her body, and though she tried to hide it, Ian could see the storm of frustration burning behind her eyes.

He sighed softly and stepped toward her. "Here," he said, extending his hand.

Eve looked up at him, her brows furrowing. For a second, she hesitated as if debating whether to accept the gesture or slap it away. Pride was something she had in abundance, and it was clear she wasn't used to being helped by the person who had just defeated her.

Still, after a brief pause, she took his hand. Her fingers were warm, and she allowed him to pull her up. The crowd that had gathered around them began whispering again, some laughing, others simply gawking at the strange sight of the academy's fiery prodigy being helped up by the new student who had just bested her.

"You fight well," Ian said, brushing some dust off his sleeve casually.

Eve scoffed, folding her arms. "That supposed to make me feel better?"

"Maybe a little," Ian replied, smiling faintly. "It's a compliment. You could at least pretend to appreciate it."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're insufferable."

"I've been told that before," Ian said, his tone light. "Still, I owe you something."

She tilted her head, confused. "Owe me? For what? For embarrassing me in front of the entire class?"

He chuckled softly. "Exactly that." Then, with a look that was equal parts playful and sincere, he added, "Let me make it up to you. Dinner. Tonight."

Eve blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. "Dinner?" she repeated, her voice lowering. "You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious," he said. "The academy's food place. Evening. I hear they have the best roasted hare."

Her expression hardened, though the faintest trace of color crept up her cheeks. "You're asking me out?" she whispered under her breath, low enough that only he could hear. "After humiliating me in front of everyone? Are you hitting on me?"

Ian gave a small laugh, the kind that seemed to carry amusement without apology. "Maybe I am," he said quietly. "Would that be so bad?"

Eve's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She wanted to respond, to scold him, to remind him that he was nothing but a new student who got lucky in a duel...but the words wouldn't form. Instead, she crossed her arms again, turning her head away with a sharp huff. "I'm not coming," she said flatly, her tone clipped and defiant.

Ian smiled, as if her words were nothing more than a soft breeze brushing past him. "Alright," he said lightly. "Then don't come."

He took a step back, his expression calm, his voice carrying a quiet confidence. "Evening, then," he added, ignoring her glare as he turned to leave. "I'll be waiting."

Eve's jaw tightened. "You're impossible," she muttered under her breath.

Arlen, who had been standing awkwardly at the edge of the crowd, hurried after Ian as he left the dueling stage. "Ian that was incredible!" he whispered excitedly. "You actually beat her! No one's done that before. And then you...you just asked her to dinner?"

Ian shrugged as they walked through the academy courtyard, the hum of conversation still following them from behind. "What? She looked like she needed a proper meal after that duel."

Arlen's eyes widened. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Ian grinned, the expression both relaxed and mischievous. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Behind them, Eve stood still for a while, her hand brushing the faint dust from her robes. She exhaled slowly, her heart still racing from the duel. She rolled her eyes in irritation, though the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying the faintest hint of a smile she quickly suppressed.

"Arrogant fool," she muttered, scoffing softly as she turned to leave. "As if I'd actually show up."

As she walked away, she couldn't help but think about that calm smile of his...It lingered in her mind longer than it should have.

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