The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

The arena fell into a hush, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, as two thousand spectators held their breath in anticipation. The clash between the two combatants had escalated from a tense standoff to a ferocious collision in what felt like only an instant, yet also seemed to stretch on for an eternity. However, any trace of illusion was shattered by Alavin's brutal onslaught.

Semar slammed hard onto the stone floor of the dueling platform. Her body felt as if it had been cleaved in half at the waist. A violent turmoil erupted in her chest and belly, and with a retching gasp, a spurt of blood burst forth as her delicate frame bent unnaturally.

Alavin, swift as lightning, didn't wait for her to fully hit the ground before his hand shot out and clenched her throat, hoisting her into the air with unyielding force. A dense, dark miasma invaded her mind, the murderous intent of the Shadowbringer!

Semar's screams ceased abruptly, her pupils dilated, mouth agape, and body rigid. The sacred runes coursing through her were shattered and dispersed, and after a moment that seemed like an eternity, Semar's consciousness spiraled into darkness. Her battered body was limp and lifeless in Alavin's formidable grip, held high for all to see.

The scene froze there as if captured in a painting. Silence persisted throughout the arena, a mix of terror, astonishment, confusion, and disbelief. Elite Protégés gasped, their bodies tingling as if struck by lightning.

Alavin held Semar aloft, his brow furrowed in slight concentration, trying to recall the recent events. Was Semar regaining consciousness? At that moment, when all the runes had retracted into her body, it seemed her mind had cleared. Had the runes forcibly purged the killing intent? The Icebound had indeed shown its power.

Yet, the Shadowbringer had not disappointed Alavin, piercing through the Icebound and grievously wounding Semar. He never expected the Shadowbringer to be invincible, but this level of might was monstrous enough.

The five Elders exchanged glances, seeing the gravity of the situation in each other's eyes. The Shadowbringer was truly terrifying, virtually unbeatable. Even a Golden Protégé like Semar had been dispatched in an instant. What chance did the others stand?

Nikulas and his companions were also stunned. They had thought that both Alavin and Semar, having ascended to Advanced Mage status, wouldn't have such a vast gap between them. But this was beyond even the disparity at the Novice Mage level.

Eyla's laughter was bright and clear. The Shadowbringer had not let her down, breaking through the Icebound without resistance. Semar had been arrogant, matching Alavin's strongest move right from the start, clearly inviting defeat. Even Eyla wouldn't dare to challenge Alavin head-on.

The atmosphere in the arena shifted rapidly to excitement as exclamations and shouts filled the air. The crowd was deeply shocked.

A one-hit defeat? This was a complete execution! Semar, the Golden Protégé, an idol to many, had been vanquished in a flash by Alavin!

They had sensed that Alavin had changed, but not to this monstrous extent.

Alavin set Semar gently back onto the dueling platform. Many Protégés rushed forward in a frenzy to carry her off for immediate medical attention.

Alavin's expression was calm, neither sad nor joyful, as he dispersed his Shockwave Cobra spell and issued a challenge to Felis and Admus. "Who's next?"

The faces of Admus and Felis turned sour as if they had swallowed bitter flies. They had schemed for this day to be their moment of glory, to step on the reputation of Alavin, the Shadowlord's Messenger, and ascend to the pinnacle of the Organization. However, the reality was far from what they had envisioned.

Semar's Icebound crumpled like paper, and they knew they stood no chance against the Shadowbringer. If they went up, they would be struck down, one after the other, a humiliating prospect. How could this be? It wasn't supposed to happen this way!

The Icebound, gleaned from the wisdom of an ancient magical treasure, should have withstood Alavin's killing intent. This was a hard pill to swallow!

They had hoped to crush Alavin, not to further his legend.

"What do we do, Roald?" the two asked, unable to maintain their composure.

Roald's face was taut with tension. What could they do? He also wished to know. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had set a trap for himself. "Who will challenge?" Alavin called out again.

"Come on, continue! Why has it ended before it even began?" someone in the crowd shouted, only to be silenced by stern glares from other Protégés.

Roald spoke in a grave tone, "Felis, you go. Speak plainly with Alavin. Acknowledge the might of his Shadowbringer and propose an exchange of insights in other forms of Combat Magic. As long as Alavin refrains from using Shadowbringer, you have a chance to win."