Only two teams remained; the afternoon draw concluded in a flash.

  On the stands, the referee fished two clay shards from the jar, glanced down, then lifted his head and proclaimed:

  “Junior Division: Siria Magic Academy versus Taslonte Noble Magic Academy!”

  The words drifted into Luo Wei’s ears; she felt momentarily lightheaded.

  She’d imagined the best outcome would be meeting St. Teno only in the final round. She hadn’t expected it to come true.

  Was her luck really that good?

  Across the arena, the Taslonte squad also faltered for a heartbeat.

  They’d discussed it at lunch: best case this afternoon—draw Snake Academy; worst case—draw Siria.

  St. Teno’s methods had patterns you could read. Siria’s, however, were trick after trick—no defense felt sufficient.

  They would rather be defeated openly by St. Teno than get knocked senseless under Siria’s iron pots.

  At first, hearing “Siria” should have left them discouraged. But Novia had already broken it down: yes, Siria was troublesome, yet their odds were still better against Siria than against St. Teno.

  “St. Teno’s team has no weak link. Their close combat, ranged casting, and defense are evenly strong. Stand them together and they’re an iron barrel—sealed tight.”

  “Siria is different,” Novia continued smoothly. “Their weak point is that boy Jack. Start with him and we can unravel them.”

  From yesterday through today she had carefully watched all three of Siria’s matches and tallied several flaws.

  Jack’s mana reserves were relatively low and his agility lagged. Hol relied on iron pots and defensive earth spells. The silver?haired Gladys was, in her view, short on strategy, and the golden?haired Axina liked to coast.

  As for Luo Wei—Novia had never seen her swing a sword. She carried only a dagger, never drawn, and preferred long?range spellwork to control the field.

  Novia inferred that Luo Wei’s stamina and swordsmanship were likely significant weaknesses—making her a pure mage.

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  All exploitable. Break them one by one.

  Eyes bright, Novia assigned roles:

  “Boyce, your swordwork’s solid. Go for Jack—go in hard. His teammates may rush to save him, splitting their focus.”

  “Simon, you’ve got the whip. Pin down the silver?haired girl, but don’t clinch with her. She’s all brute force; you might not hold her.”

  “Nathan, keep your distance and pound the pot?thrower with spells. Best if you force him into a corner so he can’t scatter our formation.”

  “Farnell, use your sword to tangle the blonde. She’s soft and frail-looking; you don’t need to press too tight. Don’t provoke her into taking it seriously.”

  “Captain, what about you?” the four asked.

  “I’m going after Luo Wei,” Novia said, rising and drawing the sword at her hip. “Relax—I’m seventy percent sure I can beat her.”

  The match was about to begin. Both teams descended to the arena gate, handed their weapons over for inspection, then deftly donned their Distress Pendants.

  “Go on in,” the gate mage said, hauling up the grate.

  They stepped inside, facing each other across the broad expanse. Their crossed gazes struck sparks in the air.

  The professors on the stands were keenly interested. Rarely did these two squads meet—both with female captains. Which would fall?

  Siria’s team needed no introduction; the professors knew them inside out. Taslonte’s surge, however, was noteworthy.

  This year Taslonte’s junior squad had leapt in strength. In the first round they surpassed Snake and Lane to take third—behind only St. Teno and Siria. In the second round they were third again; while their points couldn’t touch Siria or St. Teno, they crushed the rest, sixty points ahead of fourth place.

  Most striking: the squad was led by a girl. That alone had stunned observers in the first round.

  For years, only Siria’s teams regularly fielded female captains. Other academies scarcely had female members, let alone leaders.

  Taslonte was a traditional academy; past performances were steady and unremarkable. This year was different.

  The girl—Novia Perkin—wielded both magic and sword. Cunning and decisive, nothing like a “proper” young lady. What noble house raised a daughter like that?

  A little digging: she came from the notorious Perkin family, famous for extorting others through marriages involving their daughters.

  No wonder. The Perkin family was known for producing daughters who lacked the “refined feminine virtues.”

  While people whispered, the battle horn sounded.

  Novia flicked a look to her teammates. As the horn’s echo died, all five sprang forward exactly as planned.

  Siria’s squad blinked. First time they’d met a team that moved even faster than they did—a novel sensation.

  “Captain, what do we do?” the four asked Luo Wei.

  Watching the five charge, Luo Wei’s lips curved faintly. “This round—fight however you like. Show some individual style.”

  Easy to paint a tiger’s skin; hard to paint its bones.

  If an enemy tries to deduce your weaknesses from surface impressions, they’ve already lost.

  Siria’s five were not nearly as simple as they appeared.

  Even Jack—who looked the easiest to squeeze—had survived two strict rounds of selection by Professor Moses to earn his place. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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