*Current day*

  Cassian laid beaten and bruised on the stone floor, he hadn’t felt so weak in a long time. Through his barely opened eyes, he saw Owyn, the lanky Crescent who’d beaten him to a pulp, as he began to walk away. Elder Orencius and his smug grin were beginning to float to the center of the arena, no doubt eager to announce Cassian’s loss. But before he could say anything, Cassian stood up.

  He was physically running on fumes now, but his mana stores were still untouched. This was a trick Aria had taught him. Selective circulation of mana, even in an Unbound, would give a temporary boost in physical strength. In this case, it was just enough to get Cassian to his feet.

  Some jeers came from the audience, but they were noticeably less intense. Most of them, despite their best interests, began to root for Cassian. Although most were loath to admit it, he had put up a respectable performance against Jacob, and the fact that he could still stand after a beating like that made him all the more impressive.

  Orencius frowned, but retreated back to his position away from the center. Taking note of the jeering, Owyn turned around and saw the bloodied Cassian stumbling around.

  “Fuck’s sake,” he turned around and began to sprint for Cassian. “I told you to stay down!”

  Owyn jumped at the halfway point and spun into a kick. Already dazed, Cassian had a hard time keeping track of the Crescent’s movement. Using selective circulation techniques, he could momentarily strengthen himself, but his mana stores weren’t infinite. If he wanted to last through all six Crescents, he needed to conserve his mana. So when Owyn’s armoured boot was just about to hit him on the side of his head, he dropped to his knees, letting the kick glance off the top of his head. As Owyn’s body continued to soar from the momentum, Cassian sent a burst of mana circulating in his body, giving himself just a one second window to wrap his left arm around Owyn’s other leg.

  The movement was fast and practiced. He securely placed Owyn’s leg against his left armpit, held on tight, then sent another burst of mana into his body. With all the might he could conjure, he violently yanked, causing Owyn to fall backward. The entire exchange, from Owyn’s yell to his head smashing against the stone, all happened in less than three seconds. At the end of it, Owyn laid dazed on the ground. Any normal person would have cracked their skull and died immediately, but an Adept’s body was strengthened by magic. At most, Owyn would take a second or two to recover, but he was otherwise unharmed. Aware of this, Cassian quickly made his way to Owyn’s head, not even taking a moment to see the young man blearily blink away his confusion before viciously kicking his head.

  A Unbound’s kick to the head would be about as effective as an average non-mage’s kick. That is to say, not at all against an Adept. To make up for the difference, Cassian sent localised bursts of mana into his leg right at the moment of impact, delivering maximum power for minimum cost. Strengthened by mana, the kicks eventually took effect, and Owyn went from bleary to sober to weak protests to unconsciousness. The whole process took only five kicks.

  The restless crowd suddenly grew sober at the vicious display of violence. In a matter of seconds, Cassian had gone from guaranteed defeat to violent victory. The smartest amongst them realised they were no longer watching a runaway misfit, but rather the birth of something monstrous.

  Enya watched it all unfold in horror. She’d never liked having Starlings start their training so young. She recognised the necessity of it, but she still never liked it. When Sxall had all but goaded Cassian Moon into accepting his own death sentence, she was ashamed to be called an elder. But here was a 15 year old who couldn’t even cast a spell, who shouldn’t even know the terrible visage of war, and he was holding his own against men twice his age, size and rank.

  She glanced at Sxall. He looked back at her, a slight smirk on his face. She grumbled.

  Luckily for Cassian, it seemed Jacob and Owyn were the best of the team. The rest of the young men barely measured up to Jacob’s power, or Owyn’s speed. Even running on fumes, he easily dodged their strikes, making up for his depleting stamina with localised mana bursts. By the time the fifth Crescent missed his tenth strike, the crowd was restless again. His odds had gone from near zilch to pretty good. Even as malicious as the House Moon members wanted to be, the display was too impressive.

  Bella, Justus and Bellvar were sitting together in the stands. Bellvar’s skittish behaviour had been replaced by sheer awe. On the other hand, Justus and Bella were positively distressed. The three Starlings hadn’t trained in this arena before, instead electing to receive private training in their own family homes. It was part of the reason why they were the primary talents within the Starlings. But that also meant they’d never seen Cassian Moon in training before. They’d heard about him from the other Starlings and their parents, but the hype surrounding him two years ago was so intense it was hard to discern fiction from truth. It was hard to chalk his reputation up to hyperbole now though.

  Justus himself sometimes received training from his uncle Sylvan, as part of that, he often saw Owyn and Jacob during training. Neither of them were slouches, and yet Jacob could barely touch Cassian. Meanwhile Owyn was probably still unconscious in the physician’s office.

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  “He’s incredible,” said Bellvar.

  “No wonder mom and dad were so happy when he left. Holy crap.”

  Sylvan was the only one of the Crescents left now. His bemused expression had given way to growing irritation as he saw his team fail one by one.

  “Nincompoops! All of you!” he lashed out at them. “Especially Owyn, that godforsaken fool got taken out by a kid. What an embarrassment you all are!”

  His subordinates glared daggers at him.

  “Have to do everything myself,” Sylvan grumbled as he stormed off to meet Cassian.

  On the outside, Cassian was eating up the attention. On the inside, his guts churned and his throat felt like sandpaper had run through it. He’d put up an impressive display, but it also cost him all his stamina. Even the mana he was using to supplement his tired body was beginning to run dry. Internally, he cursed his Unbound body.

  As Sylvan approached the center, Cassian’s mind began to race. Sylvan was infamous for his scandals, but he’d never actually heard about his abilities. For all he knew, Sylvan was a combat genius that simply never ranked up due to his focus on philandering. With his remaining mana stores, Cassian could either fight as he was doing until now, or cast five magic missiles. If Sylvan was as good as he feared, then the former method likely wouldn’t work, he had just barely scraped by with Owyn after all.

  He hadn’t yet cast a magic missile today, so if he played it right, he could possibly catch Sylvan off guard. But if that failed, he’d be completely dried out, and he’d have to face an Adept Crescent with no magic while fighting off mana exhaustion headaches.

  With a deep breath, he made his choice.

  “This has dragged on for far too long, little Eamon. But it’s not your fault. No, it’s my fault for having such an incompetent team.” he spat out the last few words. “Let me end this for you quickly.”

  “Alright, old man. Have it your way.”

  Orencius signalled the start again, wearily. Sylvan wasted no time and burst forth at Cassian. “I’m only FORTY THREEEEEE!” he yelled.

  Cassian went to dodge, but something felt off. Sylvan’s punch missed him by a mile. A feint! Cassian thought.

  Hurriedly, he dashed backwards, wary of whatever Sylvan had planned. There was no more time for strategy, he realised. At that moment, he began a simultaneous-casting of all five magic missiles at once.

  “Oh? Scared, are you? Well, let me-”

  “MAGIC MISSILE!” Cassian roared with guttural violence.

  All at once, the five magic missiles slammed into Sylvan’s head. A loud violent crack reverberated through the arena. Everyone watching, even the elders stood agape. Sylvan’s head was obscured by the dust stirred up from the blow and the mirage-like distortions of dissipating mana, but his body stood completely rigid. Cassian cursed under his breath as the mana exhaustion headache began to set in. He’d have to rely on pure martial arts now.

  The dust cloud around Sylvan’s head cleared and his face was a bloody mess. His wispy hair, which turned out to be a toupee, was half way peeled off his scalp; his eyes were glazed over and a complete white; his mouth was wide open as blood and a few teeth dribbled out of it. After a second, he collapsed to the ground in a pathetic thud.

  Silence permeated the arena for a few seconds, then a cheer came, and another, and then the entire arena shook with energy. All noble pretext had just been thrown out the window. As much as Cassian had broken the Noble Creed of honor, he was repaying it a hundred fold now in the Noble Creed of power.

  Orencius was frozen in his spot, as were many of the elders. Enya in particular couldn’t believe her eyes. Even Sxall, Cassian’s biggest proponent, was utterly shocked by the display.

  “Why did your uncle’s head explode?” Bellvar asked.

  Justus was too stunned to reply.

  “He threw a magic missile at his head.” Bella replied for him.

  “I didn’t even see it!”

  “If you cast a magic missile with perfect mana control, it turns invisible.”

  “That’s right,” Jorian said as he sat down next to the trio.

  “Cousin!” Bella said. “I thought you were on hunting duty.”

  “Just came back and heard all the commotion, so I ran here to check it out. That’s Cassian for you, always something with him.”

  “You were his instructor, right?” Bellvar asked. “Was he always this good?”

  “He was always a freak. But he definitely wasn’t this good. No idea where he learned to simul-cast magic missiles.”

  “Simul-cast?” Bella asked.

  “That wasn’t just one magic missile,” Jorian pointed out. “He simultaneously cast five of them. Adept ranks can do it, but usually with minor spells.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “No. Very difficult to do. I think the only people in House Moon who can simul-cast are the Gibbouses and Elders.”

  “Holy crap…” Justus finally spoke.

  “Where the hell did you go, Cassian Moon?” Jorian mused to himself.