Both Rai and Mammoth charge forward, their movements now a blur of speed and power. Rai, still feeling the weight of his earlier struggles, focuses intensely. His experience from the previous encounter with the serpent proves invaluable, as he effortlessly dodges Jörmungandr’s attacks. Every movement feels calculated, a dance with death.

Mammoth watches Rai, an admiring grin spreading across his face. "Ha! I would expect nothing less from you after all that talk. But how will you handle this?" he shouts, his eyes glinting with confidence. He charges forward, the serpent at his side, and together, they press the attack, a coordinated barrage that forces Rai to think faster, move quicker.

Rai smirks despite the intensity of the situation. "Fine then," he murmurs under his breath, "I won’t hold anything back." His voice is calm, but there’s a sudden, overwhelming surge of power within him.

With a single thought, Rai activates his Atmaan Overdrive. A silver aura bursts forth around his body, crackling with raw energy. It’s as though his very being has been supercharged, his muscles tightening and expanding slightly, his senses honed to perfection. The surge is so powerful it almost overwhelms him, but he fights through it, using the excess energy to fuel his movements. His speed increases exponentially, and the battlefield slows around him.

"Atmaan Overdrive!" Rai declares, his voice firm. "Let’s end this now."

Mammoth and Jörmungandr momentarily take a step back, taken aback by the sheer intensity of Rai’s transformation. Their eyes widen, a mixture of awe and calculation. The crowd roars in anticipation, and for a brief moment, all are reminded of the sheer scale of Rai's determination.

Rai’s body has become a weapon, each movement sharp and precise. With one powerful strike from above, he sends Jörmungandr crashing to the ground, the shockwave reverberating through the arena floor. The serpent recoils, temporarily immobilized.

As the serpent recovers, Rai shifts his focus to Mammoth. The air around them grows heavy, thick with the promise of destruction. Mammoth, now visibly invigorated by the fight, raises his Lighting Fury. His hammer glows with dark energy, and with a war cry, he swings it down, summoning a storm of lightning from the heavens above.

“Lighting Fury!” Mammoth bellows, his voice filled with thunder. The sky itself seems to respond, lightning arcing toward Rai’s form. The ground shatters under the impact of each bolt. The audience holds their breath as the storm intensifies.

But Rai is ready. His Prana surges once more, and he focuses his will to create a Soul Protection barrier around himself. The lightning crashes against the invisible shield with deafening force, but Rai stands firm, his arms trembling from the strain. The energy surges through him, but the shield holds, deflecting the worst of the storm.

With a grimace, Rai grips the hammer as it strikes him directly, his knees buckling under the weight of the attack. His body aches, his strength waning. But he refuses to yield. His mind races, the words from his earlier speech echoing in his mind: "Don’t give up."

He grits his teeth, the words of his parents echoing in his soul. “You will rule the world, Rai. Magic or not, you will rise above.”

His fingers tighten around Mammoth’s hammer, and with an explosive roar, he begins to push back. The earth beneath him cracks, but Rai’s resolve holds steady. Slowly, painfully, he begins to rise, inch by inch, against the overwhelming pressure of the attack.

But then, Jörmungandr stirs. Rai’s eyes widen as the serpent, seemingly awakened from its stupor, slithers toward him. Before Rai can react, it lunges.

"Atmaan Explosion!" Rai shouts, his voice filled with power.

The words leave his lips like a command, and in an instant, the shockwave of energy ripples outward. BOOM. The hammer slams down on Jörmungandr's head as Rai vanishes from sight, leaving Mammoth in a daze.

Before Mammoth can even raise his head, Rai reappears, mist pouring from his mouth like a dragon's breath. His eyes burn with intensity as he leaps into the air, focusing all his energy into his final strike.

With a howl of power, Rai brings his leg down with force, smashing Mammoth into the ground. The sheer force of the impact sends shockwaves through the arena, the ground splitting beneath them. The audience gasps in unison, unable to comprehend the magnitude of Rai’s power.

Mammoth’s eyes lose their fire as his body bounces from the impact, his face slamming into the arena floor.

The arena was shrouded in a thick cloud of dust, a lingering testament to the intensity of the battle that had just unfolded. The crowd, now silent in anticipation, waited for the dust to clear, eager to see who would emerge victorious. Rose, her heart pounding in her chest, leaned forward over the railing, her eyes scanning the arena desperately for any sign of Rai. Gale and his friends, their faces filled with hope, stood at the ready, silently rooting for their friend. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Baruss and those who held the belief that magic was the only true power stood seething with anger. How could an ordinary-eyed, magicless boy put on such a spectacle? The thought was unbearable to them.

The judges sat in calm anticipation, their eyes focused on the shifting dust. Pragaya sat with his eyes closed, his posture serene, almost as if he already knew the outcome. The other judges, composed as ever, waited patiently, but there was a quiet tension in the air. It was Dean Harchell, however, who shocked everyone. Completely out of character, she had risen from her seat, her hands clasped together in a silent prayer, her gaze unwavering as she searched for any sign of Rai. Those watching couldn’t help but be surprised. Harchell, who had always been indifferent to such matters, was now clearly invested in the outcome.

As the dust began to settle, a dark figure emerged from the haze, its silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the arena. Spiky hair stood on end, bloodied and bruised, but still resolute. As the dust cleared further, Rose’s eyes widened, her heart racing with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

Gale and his comrades were cheering, their faces flushed with happiness, while the judges, with smiles of satisfaction, looked on approvingly. Dean Harchell was almost ready to leap onto the stage, her hands clasped in hope and affection, a rare moment of vulnerability for the ever-composed dean.

It was none other than Rai. Despite the toll the battle had taken on him—his body bruised and battered, covered in blood—he stood victorious. His once-powerful aura now a faint shimmer, drained by the ancient Prana techniques he had used to push beyond his limits.

The crowd’s cheer was deafening, echoing throughout the arena. However, there were still some dissenters—those who still clung to the belief that only magic and the power of eyes could define true strength. Their disapproval was evident, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming support from the rest.

Mammoth lay sprawled on the ground, a satisfied, contented smile on his face. Even though he had lost, there was no anger in his expression. Jörmungandr, the world serpent, slowly began to vanish, retreating back to the mythical realm from which it had come.

Rai, barely standing and teetering on the edge of collapse, was on the verge of falling. But, to his surprise, it was Dean Harchell—of all people—who rushed to him. With an uncharacteristic tenderness, she pulled him into her embrace, her arms around him in a warm and unexpected gesture of support. Rai’s face, pressed into her soft bosom, flushed red, his body shaking from exhaustion. For a brief moment, Harchell’s usual stoic demeanor melted away, her cheeks slightly flushed as she held him close, her actions a rare display of affection.

Pragaya stood up, his voice booming across the arena as he declared, “The winner of this historic Magian battle is Raiii!!” The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, their excitement echoing throughout the arena.

After the cheers subsided, Pragaya continued, his tone turning more serious, “Now, for the closing finale...”

The crowd’s enthusiasm gradually quieted, their anticipation building once again. Pragaya’s voice took on a gravely somber note, “Let us not forget what is truly at stake here.”

A wave of unease washed over the spectators. The gravity of his words settled over them like a shadow. They all knew what he meant: the loser of this fight would face utter disgrace. Blacklisted and stripped of any future prospects, their life would be ruined beyond repair. It was a harsh consequence, and one that made this duel more than just a test of strength—it was a life-altering gamble. No one ever dared to challenge such a battle lightly, for even a clear victor knew that the cost of such an outcome would be more than just personal. It was a fate too cruel to bear.

“We know what defeat means in this battle,” Pragaya continued, his voice heavy with authority.

Meanwhile, Dean Shelly’s phoenix hovered nearby, its healing flames enveloping Mammoth as he slowly regained his footing.

“Mammoth Stark,” Pragaya proclaimed, his tone unwavering and firm, “In accordance with the laws that govern this world and this esteemed institution, you are hereby dismissed and blacklisted from all magic academies, effective immediately.”

The crowd fell into a hushed silence, the weight of the announcement settling over them like a dark cloud. They stood frozen, unable to intervene. The rules were clear, etched into the very foundation of their society—nothing could be done.

Yet, Rai stood there with an almost unsettling smile on his face. The sight shocked everyone. How could he smile at such a moment? It was a heartless expression to some, and it caused confusion to ripple through the onlookers.

Rose and Gale exchanged uncertain glances, their hearts sinking. “This is not the Rai I know,” they thought, bewildered by his cold demeanor.

Mammoth, still struggling to comprehend the situation, stared at Rai in disbelief. He couldn't fathom that the same man who had inspired him just moments ago with such fire and passion was now standing there, seemingly indifferent to the fate that awaited him.

Pragaya continued, his voice steady and authoritative, “Moving forward, in accordance with the latest constitutional amendment passed last year, which takes effect from the beginning of this school year onwards, the winner of the Magian Battle shall be granted one wish, provided it is reasonable.”

The crowd fell into stunned silence, the revelation sinking in. The memory of the amendment struck them all at once.

Rose, deep in thought, murmured to herself, “Yes, my father did mention something about an amendment last year, but I completely forgot about it.”

Gale and Rose exchanged a knowing glance, realization dawning on them. They looked toward Rai and exclaimed in unison, “So that’s why he’s smiling.” The tension in the arena grew as everyone held their breath, waiting for confirmation of their suspicions.

Pragaya, his smile widening, turned to Rai. “So, Rai, what will your wish be?”