"Time to show our stuff here, heh heh."

Zagu stood before Yan Lingxuan, his dark face plastered with an overly ‘kind’ grin.

They weren’t in a classroom or even inside the academic building. Instead, they’d come to the rarely visited Maple Grove on the academy’s west side. Why? Because it was the perfect spot for a fight.

Truth was, Yan Lingxuan had zero interest in brawling. He wasn’t some hot-blooded kid obsessed with proving himself. But Zagu had been so damn persistent, he’d finally caved just to shut him up.

"FIGHT! Yan Lingxuan!"

"FIGHT! Show ‘em what G-class is made of!"

"FIGHT! You’re the strongest, Yan! Believe you’ll crush everything—the War God’s with you!"

Behind him, the chaos trio—Yu Xiaozhuo, Su Fangwen, and Gavi—cheered wildly. Why were they here? Purely for the spectacle. Those "encouraging" shouts? Yan just wanted to sigh. He’d transferred to Class G less than a week ago. He didn’t *represent* anyone.

He turned back to Zagu. The guy was practically vibrating with excitement, flashing a row of gleaming teeth. His burning gaze made Yan’s skin crawl.

*Why am I wasting precious lunch break on this musclehead?* It all started after first period. Zagu had marched up, demanding a fight. Yan refused—losing face wasn’t his style, and peace was his life motto. Zagu left grumbling. But he returned during the next break. And the next. By fourth period’s end, Yan just wanted lunch with his sister. Yet there Zagu stood again, radiating stubborn sincerity. Yan realized: if he didn’t agree now, this would never end. So here they were, deep in the maple grove.

All Yan wanted was to lose quickly and be done with it.

"The match ends only when one loses consciousness. Don’t think you can half-ass this."

*Caught already?* Yan frowned at Zagu’s shrewd smirk. What a hassle.

Private duels were banned at Valhalla Academy, but like many rules, it was more suggestion than law. Punishment was light—maybe a week’s suspension. Expulsion? Unlikely. (After all, kicking out young mages would just unleash more troublemakers on society. Better to keep them caged in compulsory education.)

Official training rooms existed, but booking one required Student Council approval and a supervisor. Too much paperwork. Most students just found hidden spots like this.

Sunlight dappled through thick canopies. Fresh air hummed with negative ions. A peaceful place—if only Atlantis, stranded in the Pacific, ever saw autumn. These maples would never blaze red.

Maple Grove was one of Valhalla’s blind spots. The perfect dueling ground.

*Zagu Byers. Class 1-F. 185cm tall. 112kg. Mage Rank C. Magic Proficiency Level 3. Typical delinquent and slacker. Hobby: fighting.*

Gavi had supplied the intel. Yan still wondered: was this hulking guy really his age? His build felt… illegal.

They stood where sunlight pierced the canopy. Clover and fallen leaves carpeted the soft earth. Even a fall here wouldn’t hurt much.

"Ready? Let’s begin."

Zagu’s bright, almost childlike smile made Yan think of an elementary kid heading on a field trip—if not for that overly "honest" face. It was like seeing a college linebacker wearing a tiny backpack.

Zagu peeled off his uniform, tossing it onto the grass. His chiseled muscles weren’t natural—they were forged. At 185cm and 112kg, he was pure intimidation.

Su Fangwen glanced at Zagu’s rippling pecs, then down at her own chest. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face.

"Great muscles, but what’s the point for a mage?" Gavi muttered. He wasn’t bulky himself, but he could probably lift a girl without breaking a sweat.

The trio watched as Zagu shed his shirt and dropped into a stance. All eyes then turned to Yan.

Honestly? Next to Zagu, Yan looked like a plucked monkey. His slender, East Asian frame blurred gender lines from behind—the kind people called "effeminate."

Zagu’s laughter burst out, raw and mocking.

"Must you be so serious?" Yan sighed. But he stripped off his top too, revealing a lean, toned torso.

Not as massive as Zagu’s, but four defined abs were visible. His biceps and chest held firm shape, tapering down to a clear V-line.

"Surprising."

Gavi whistled low. Su and Yu stared with undisguised hunger.

"Not bad," Zagu grinned, teeth flashing. "This frame should take two or three of my punches."

"I’d rather avoid punches. And mages don’t need close combat."

"I *love* close combat. Don’t worry—I’ll go easy."

Zagu cracked his knuckles, eyes locking onto Yan like a wolf spotting a rabbit.

"Both ready?" Yu Xiaozhuo called.

They nodded. Soft magic light bloomed around their bodies as they gathered power.

"Begin!" Gavi shouted.

Shockingly, Yan struck first.

His eyes sharpened. He vanished, leaving only an afterimage. Wind whipped dead leaves as he reappeared at Zagu’s left side. No hesitation—he pivoted, channeling centrifugal force into a glowing right fist aimed at Zagu’s ribs.

*Whoosh—*

Air whistled as it compressed.

Zagu’s tower-like body flew seven meters, slamming into a maple tree. Five-pointed leaves rained down like confetti, dust swirling in their wake.

"Hitting with fists isn’t bad," Yan mused. He remembered fighting Bernie from the Waste Law Society—that monster could quantum-phase to dodge physical blows or shield himself in impenetrable magic. Hopeless. Compared to him, Zagu was almost cute.

Gavi and Yu exchanged impressed glances. Of course the witch’s brother wasn’t weak. Only Su Fangwen gaped, utterly stunned.

"Solid punch."

Even more shocking: Zagu stood up smoothly, brushing leaves off his shoulders. He looked utterly unfazed. *How?* Su thought. She was a mage too, but she couldn’t imagine such resilience.

(She didn’t know Yan’s growth was monstrous. Most mages couldn’t reach this level after mere weeks of training.)

"Figured it wouldn’t be that easy," Yan muttered wryly. He charged again, fists blazing with magic light.

Zagu’s grin widened, revealing sharp canines. He sidestepped, then kept retreating.

"What, only good at running?" Yan taunted, though he felt Zagu gathering power beneath the evasion.

They blurred across a hundred-meter radius, kicking up whirlwinds.

"Warm-up’s over. Time you taste *my* fist."

The moment Zagu stopped, Yan closed the gap in 0.2 seconds—punching straight into his abdomen.

*Crack!*

Pain shot up Yan’s arm. His fist had hit steel. The recoil nearly snapped his wrist. He leaped back, shaking his throbbing hand. Zagu now gleamed under a metallic sheath—a softer light than ordinary magic glow, almost solid.

"Magic Armor," Gavi explained for Su’s benefit. "A basic spell that materializes magic power over the body. Great for defense *and* offense. Don’t let ‘basic’ fool you—skill matters. Take Xi Shan, last year’s #5 ranked fighter and current Melee Master in the university division. He’s a Magic Armor specialist."

*Xi Shan?*

Su recalled him—the guy who’d rescued them at Er Gao’s theater with Katherine and Bai Lingyue. His fight had been too fast, too chaotic to follow. But yeah… he’d been terrifyingly strong.

"Troublesome," Yan muttered, flexing his aching wrist. He kept his distance now, guard up.

"My turn." Zagu cracked his neck. "I took two hits—no pain, no gain. Now you try mine."

A Magic Array flared beneath his feet, racing straight toward Yan.