"The main event we've all been waiting for." Laurel clapped her hands, though none of the children had dared let their attention stray. Leander was no exception. "Rules are simple. No intentional killing or maiming. Judges call the bouts the same as before, but you can always surrender if you can't take the pain. Afterwards, if you need healing head for the chambers below the arena. Or if needed someone will carry you. Any questions?"

This time Laurel's voice wasn't echoing across the stands, she spoke instead only to the assembled initiates as they clustered around the podium. Leander could make out fewer signs of nerves in today's opponents. The cultivation competition was closed to novices, and at least in the sect, all the initiates had been sent out to fight spirit beasts or beast waves. After that, sparring in front of an audience wasn't that big of a deal.

"No? Okay then. The bracket was randomized, so no complaining if you don't like your opponents. You'll fight two rounds today, with a guaranteed break in between. Tomorrow we're doing the team tournament. Day after that will be top sixteen and top eight. Then we'll wrap it up on Sixthday with the finals."

"Anyone not fighting, there's an area you can wait, out by that entrance." She pointed off to where Leander had already examined the waiting rooms. "Or feel free to watch from the stands or wander off. I don't care. If you miss your bout we wait fifteen minutes. Still a no show after that and it's a forfeit.

He shifted on his feet along with everyone else when it seemed like Laurel wouldn't continue. Leander forced himself to stop. Today he wasn't just the strongest initiate, but also a representative of the sect. Everyone else could stew and fidget but he would stand firm.

Laurel's smile grew as she watched the awkwardness increase. "Ha! Don't worry, I'll give. Now, prizes. Top four, you get personalized cultivation advice and lessons from whichever Master is most appropriate, outside of whoever you are studying under. Or as determined by the whole group if you aren't in anyone's sect.

"In addition, that master will be providing a cultivation resource of sufficient rarity, in order to help you along your path."

"For first place…" A murmuring went through the small crowd as Laurel paused to let their anticipation ramp up even further. "First place gets all of that, and a personally crafted item of your choice, within reason. Weapons, crafting tools, personal ward stones."

A sword appeared and dropped into Laurel's arms. Leander recognized it as one that Laurel often used to demonstrate in lessons, or fight off weaker spirit beasts. "This was my own such prize at a tournament a long, long, long time ago. Took me from Adept to Master before I commissioned something stronger."

"Last chance, any questions?"

He had about a thousand. Mainly centering around what should he get after he won. Yet he kept them all to himself, and so did everyone else.

"First up, Eloise and Jacques."

Leander bowed to Laurel and made his way up to the stands without a trace of worry. He had dominated the preliminary unarmed combat round and he would dominate the cultivation rounds as well.

Behind him, Laurel's voice boomed over the assembled spectators, extolling the virtues of the two cultivators taking their places for the first bout. Neither was a member of the sect, though they were both guild members, visiting from down south to take part in the excitement. So how Laurel was aware of all their impressive deeds, Leander didn't know. Maybe she had read everybody's guild files.

He paused for a moment as a line caught in his mind. "...having braved a fearsome crowd of mana-enhanced turtles."

Maybe she was just making it up for the crowd. He snorted and settled in besides the others, unsure whether he was proud or angry that his own exploits were inspiring the backstories. Flint scampered over and Leander produced some dried fruit from his pockets almost as an afterthought as he surveyed the battleground.

In one of their lessons, Laurel had said Arenas could create new obstacles for different fighters. But it was still hard stone covered in a thin layer of sand for grip that they had fought on yesterday. There were larger boulders and chunks of iron around the edges, but that was it. Hardly worth the effort. He nudged Gabrielle and Rebecca on either side to get their opinions.

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"They decided not to mess around with the really fancy settings. I asked last night if I could get a volcano arena for my fights. She shut me down, said maybe when we have enough adepts to hold a more advanced tournament."

He shrugged. Air was everywhere. He didn't really need anything special But it would have been awesome.

The introductions wrapped up and Leander refocused on the show down below. A cultivator was always prepared, which meant if a potential opponent was exposing their styles before him, he should be watching.

A bag of snacks appeared in his hand but he passed it along the row with a pang of regret. The spiced nuts called to him, but he couldn't be slow for his first fight.

At a loud gong sound, produced by magic from what he could see, the battle began.

It was…adequate. Leander wouldn't fall into the trap of underestimating anyone, but he had seen some examples of what metal cultivators could do that were beyond anything a regular initiate could imagine. Tossing the blocks of metal at someone who could dodge was not exciting.

The earth initiate was far more impressive. The Arena resisted manipulation so instead of crafting a pit below his opponent or mimicking the tossed projectiles, the southerner had started moving the sand to fly into his opponents face. That was hard to do. Leander himself struggled with that kind of small action, replicated over and over.

Eventually, inevitably from an outside perspective, the two cultivators closed together. They just didn't have the power to make a fight at range past the first few standoffs.

As the earth cultivator advanced, Leander finalized his own plan for facing him, if they were matched up later. It was his plan for most fights. Use air to get in close and finish things hand to hand. Or blade to blade. Melee weapons were allowed in this round, and he had his daggers strapped to his belt and ready to go. He had thought about bringing his shield but he felt fuzzy whenever he used it for too long. Today he needed to be fast, more than anything.

After another boring bout, he made his way back down to the waiting area. His was the fight after next, and he was ready.

As Laurel called his name, he marched out onto the field, shoulders back and eyes forward. One of the fighters he recognized from the unarmed combat portion of the tournament faced him across the field. He saw more boulders, bigger ones this time but that was it. Another earth aspect then.

She knew what she was doing, he recalled, having similarly worked through her group the way Leander had swept his own. With half an ear listening to the introductions, Leander learned her mana was aspected to the idea of a mountain. Which was impressive or concerning. There was a reason almost all the competitors had basic elemental aspects. The resources were just easier to find out in the world. To start at anything more complex, you needed luck and skill, like Annette, or a rare natural treasure, as Rebecca had learned.

So his opponent was either lucky, skilled, or rich. All of which made her that much more dangerous. His eyes narrowed as he watched her, doing the same evaluation of himself. He thought about what she might see. Strength from the day before. Nimbleness from his understanding of air. Determination from the stories Laurel spun of his deeds – not made up on his part. His figure wasn't the most intimidating, but that could be an advantage if he played it right.

Laurel wrapped up and he crouched into a fighting stance, daggers finding his hands. They felt wrong but he was experienced enough to make up for the natural awkwardness.

The gong rang.

Speed would be his advantage. Leander bolted towards his opponent. In a few seconds, he had covered half the arena. So too had Steira. But in the wrong way.

Instead of facing him, she had retreated to the boulders. Clear enough strategy to take the advantage, but he wasn't going to make it easy on her. Blasts of air buffeted the woman as she ran. She stumbled, but pushed through.

Leander cursed his inability to create blades the way Laurel could.

Steira reached the boulders. And the boulders reached for her. First one, then three, finally five of the massive stones all converged at the same spot.

Leander reached the end of the arena just as they coalesced into a miniature mountain, his opponent standing at the peak.

Running at a mountain cultivator, standing on a tiny mountain, was stupid. He pushed harder with gusts of air. But what had been somewhat effective before was now brushed off without a care. Steira was as rooted as the mountain.

Stupid it was. Leander leapt onto the first boulder. Another problem attacking a cultivator in their element, the element fought back. The rock beneath his feet shifted, enough that he fell clean off, landing on his back.

Cheeks burning, Leander stood up and forced himself not to notice the jeers of the crowd. He assaulted the mountain again. This time, when the rock shifted he leapt, closer to the top. It wasn't a real mountain, he didn't need to treat it as anything more than a pile of rocks.

Which he thought until a landslide appeared out of nowhere and shoved him back down to the arena floor.

This wasn't working. He was making a fool of himself! It was an exercise in frustration. Leander was good at fighting up close, and he was good at moving the air around. But Steira was preventing him from using either strength.

Then a thought spun across his mind, there was something else he was good at.

Once more, he scaled the mountain. This time he avoided the shifting rocks and the landslide. Barely a meter or away, he saw Steira prepare her next technique. Then he projected a scream.

Volume was a hard thing to master. When he was trying to keep it to conversational levels, he was usually shouting. This time he didn't try.

Steira stumbled back, breaking her stance.

From there it was over. Leander launched himself into a flying tackle, bringing her down to the Arena floor and off her purpose built fortress.

One solid punch and Laurel was there, pulling them apart and calling him the winner.

Neither of them was hurt too badly so they supported each other off the field and towards the recovery booths. Not that he missed Laurel's pointed look on the way out. Yes, he had used sound to win. But he could have come up with something else. If he wanted to. Or had some time to work on it.

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