Ledros rushed at Athra without a second thought, his mind convinced of his imminent victory over this perceived failure of a prince. He cast the spell "Haste" upon himself, enhancing his speed even further as he closed in on his prey.

Athra, observing his senior's approach, mirrored the spell by casting "Haste" upon himself and followed it with "Foresight," a spell that would typically take a minute to cast but now took only seconds. A smile appeared on Athra’s face; his gamble had paid off. His casting speed now resembled that of his siblings. Thanks to "Foresight," he could foresee the arc of Ledros's sword swing before it even began, allowing Athra's sword to intercept the attack with minimal effort.

Ledros, realizing that perhaps the rumors of Athra's inferior casting speed were widespread misinformation, was taken aback. Cold sweat formed on his back, but his pride as a full-fledged spellsword prevented him from backing down. He continued to fight, swinging his sword and casting spells, although it was futile due to Athra’s spell.

Athra effortlessly parried the incoming attacks and used "Counterspell" whenever Ledros attempted to cast spells. Since Athra used the same amount of mana as Ledros when countering spells, none of the opponent’s spells took effect. Despite the regret in Ledros's eyes, Athra relished the feeling of superiority. However, he was disappointed at how easy it was compared to what he had envisioned. He was pleased with the results of his self-inflicted experiments on increasing his own mana pool and overcoming the casting speed limitations of normal Ira.

As the duel progressed, Ledros could see the writing on the wall; he was slowly but surely losing. He was astonished at the casting speed and mana reserves of Athra. The difference in mana reserves became apparent as Ledros tired, while Athra, despite casting spells of the highest caliber more frequently, looked as if he were taking a leisurely walk. In a desperate attempt, Ledros tried to cast a ninth-level spell, hoping it would distract Athra enough to give him a chance to land a hit.

Thanks to the spell "Foresight" of the same level, Athra immediately saw the upcoming spell cast and stared at Ledros with an amused look. The attempt was futile; Athra's mana reserves would not be drained just because Ledros cast a few ninth-level spells. After all, he now had enough reserves to exceed that limit, just like his grandmother, the founder of their kingdom.

The spell, like all others, simply fizzled. All that remained was a desperate and exhausted Ledros and the still smug Athra.

“I suppose it is my turn,” Athra spoke with a monotone voice. For the first time in the duel, he went on the offensive. His movements were graceful, as if he were dancing, making it hard for Ledros to keep up. Ledros managed somehow, but Athra then incorporated spells into his dance. Soon, Ledros ran out of mana. Seeing this, Athra spoke an arcane word and brought the duel to an end, rendering Ledros unfit to fight due to the excruciating pain caused by the power word used.

Ledros, writhing in pain, thanked his luck that the duel was hidden from others. At least while his pride was wounded, he could still save face unless Athra revealed the dominating way he won their spar. The overarching system recorded the result.

Ledros 102-25 Athra 1-0

The new ledger of scores updated in the archives that automatically updated thanks to the spell cast by the headmaster. As the scores updated in their minds, the spell asked them where they would like to go as their destination, rather than just teleporting them back to where they were prior. Ledros swiftly chose his personal quarter, whereas Athra chose to go to the headmaster’s office. This was quite convenient for him, as he got to avoid the trouble of casting flight to climb the tower.

The scenery around Athra changed into that of a marble hall with an ornate wooden door at the end, with the words “Headmaster Eldrinath” carved on it. He had guessed that the headmaster would not just let him casually teleport into the office even though he was royalty. He was not surprised but still a bit disappointed. He was quite spoiled as a prince during his younger years, after all. He made his way to the door and knocked on it.

“Come in,” an elderly voice called from the other side of the door.

Athra did not hesitate and opened the door. The sight within the room was, for the most part, as he had expected: an ornate wooden study desk with ritual circles carved on certain spots, bookshelves adorned with hundreds if not thousands of books and parchments. Several highly valuable well-crafted staves and well-tailored robes were neatly placed in their own corner. Last but not least was the headmaster himself; a very old man whose age could be seen in his deceptively fragile-looking body and graying hair, not to mention the wrinkles forming around the contours of his mouth and eyes. Yes, he was indeed very old, as for an Ira to show signs of aging, they’d have to be well over 7000 years old. Considering he still kept some of his youthful looks, such as most of the brown color of his hair, Athra would have guessed he was around 7500 years old had he got the chance to. As mentioned above, it was mostly as he had expected, but there was something in there that he did not expect—a person.

“Hello, my son,” the black-haired woman with a slender but curvy and graceful figure spoke with a smile on her delicate face.