The sound was like a cannon blast.
Selphira didnât even have time to react before her body was ripped from the air. The force struck her like an invisible sledgehammer, sending her hurtling backwards. Her shoulder and ribs screamed in protest as the world became a blur of stone, dust, and sky.
She hit the lower coliseum wall with a thunderous impact.
BOOM!
Stone cracked and splintered beneath her, the ancient reinforced masonry breaking apart like it was nothing. Chunks of wall exploded outward, tumbling down into the seats below. Dust swirled into the air in thick clouds, blotting out the sunlight.
Her glasses slid down her nose from the shock. One lens split with an audible crick, a spiderweb fracture racing across the glass.
The world around her was still trembling.
"Ohhh my~," she murmured, her tone almost playful despite the small pain radiating through her frame. A low smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Didnât think itâd be this hard."
Her voice was calm, but her body told a different story. Well she wasnât much hurt due to ger strong body not even scratch apeared on her body thought it hurted because of strong hut. She stepped out from the hole sheâd made in the wall, broken chunks of stone crunching under her boots.
Crackle.
Her spine straightened with slow deliberation, joints popping one after another as if she were putting herself back together. Dust rained from her hair and clothes in small bursts as she shook herself free from the rubble.
Pieces of stone slid from her shirt and clattered to the floor. She brushed herself off without hurry, her face betraying little more than mild irritation.
Then she reached up, sliding her glasses from her face. Her gaze fell to the fractured lens. The crack shimmered in the arena light, jagged and ugly.
Around her, the crowd was murmuring. No.. murmuring wasnât the right word. It was a boiling mix of shock, disbelief, and chaos. The earlier cheer and noise had been replaced by a feverish buzz.
The famous genius, Selphira Kane, had just been knocked down. Not only that sheâd been blasted into the coliseum wall like a ragdoll. And it wasnât even from a direct hit.
The attack hadnât been aimed at her at all.
"What the hell was that?!" someone shouted from the stands.
"Was that... just wind?" another voice called out, confused.
"Ahhh! My back!" an older spectator groaned. "I hit the wall too hard when it hit!"
"You mean the shockwave?!"
"Wait did he just deflect Lady Sylvaâs attack with a flick?"
"No, no, no, thatâs impossible"
"Oh gods, look! The referee She got launched!"
The crowdâs attention splintered in a dozen directions. Some people were trying to piece together what had happened, others were simply stunned into silence. Many were still shaken, holding onto railings or steadying companions as they got their bearings.
Selphira heard it all but didnât bother to respond. Words from the masses werenât worth her focus.
She stepped forward, ignoring the sting in her ribs, ignoring the eyes on her.
Her gaze swept across the scene.
The arena floor was unrecognizable. The once-pristine, reinforced marvel of stonework crafted to withstand even high-tier duels was fractured beyond repair. Thick spiderweb cracks radiated out in all directions, some splitting entire slabs clean in two. Chunks of marble lay scattered, crushed into dust where the force had struck hardest.
It was destruction so complete that, for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
Then her eyes found him.
Razeal stood at the epicenter.
He wasnât tense or even breathing heavily. He just stood there, lowering his hand slowly from where heâd made the motion, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
His finger wasnât injured even?
A shallow crater spread beneath his feet, the ground warped and sunken from the sheer force of the moment.
Spectular.
The word bloomed unbidden in Selphiraâs mind.
Her curiosity flared to life, overpowering the small ache in her body. She didnât care about the fact that sheâd been thrown into a wall. She didnât care about the crowdâs reaction or the fragments of her glasses still clutched in her hand.
She wanted to know how.
She replayed the moment in her head, again and again. She hadnât sensed any mana flare. No elemental signature. No arcane spike. Sheâd been watching carefully.. she always watched carefully and she was certain.
It was only physical.
Just a flick of his finger.
And yet, that flick had not only stopped Lady Sylvaâs attack, it had overpowered it. The result wasnât a mere parry. It had unleashed a shockwave powerful enough to shred the reinforced arena floor, send spectators reeling, and that vine reflected by him slam her into a wall from across the areana.
Even if it was possible to counter a high-level offensive spell physically, the sheer power required to do it like that was insane. The impact hadnât just been defense it had been offense on top of defense, and an overwhelming one at that.
Her rational mind told her it wasnât possible. The numbers didnât add up. Her knowledge didnât have a slot to fit this in.
And yet, sheâd just experienced it first hand.
A scholar who canât find an answer is a scholar who canât rest. The mystery claws at the mind, biting deeper and deeper until the itch to understand becomes unbearable.
That itch was already eating at Selphira Kane.
She needed to know.
Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles as her gaze stayed locked on Razeal.
Yes... she would find out.
Her eyes narrowing with an intensity that bordered on obsession. A spark of intrigue glimmered there now an almost hungry interest in understanding how a man could do what she had just witnessed.
It wasnât merely curiosity. It was the kind of fascination that takes root when someone encounters the impossible.
He had no mana. No aura. No trace of any energy she could sense. And yet... he had done that. Something that, in her vast knowledge of magical theory, should have required at least one form of power. But he had acted as if it were nothing more than a physical movement purely bodily, without supernatural aid.
Her mind reeled. How?
"I want to see more...To fine out the reason" she murmured under her breath, so softly it was almost lost to the noise of the crowd. "Maybe... if I study his body and movements more closely, Iâll understand."
Her lips curled into a thin, self-amused smile. I really underestimated him.
She had thought this job refereeing an exhibition duel would be dull. A simple assignment, just watching fighters swing at each other trying to kill something barbaric and nonsensical things to do like she had assumed she wouldnât learn anything of value or just be bored out of her mind.
But now?
That assumption had been obliterated.
Her fingers twitched slightly as her smile widened into something sharper, a grin that carried both an obsessive lust for knowledge and a gnawing desire for answers she could not yet form.
The arena beneath her was in ruins cracks spiderwebbing across the stone, sections of the ground caved in from the sheer force of the combat. She shook her head at the destruction.
Then, without another thought, she began to rise slowly into the air, her boots leaving the platform as she drifted upward, positioning herself high above the battlefield.
What a shame, she thought, if I canât see them go all out just because the space is too small.
Her voice, low and almost conspiratorial, slipped past her lips. "If I want to see more, Iâll have to help them a little. And... itâs rather embarrassing for the referee to stand by, unable to prevent even unintentional strike attacks nearly hitting spectators..."
As she spoke, sheets of paper began to manifest out of thin air around her fingers, drifting lazily before she directed them toward the glasses in her hands.
One of the lenses bore a hairline crack, the glass weakened.
The paper touched it gently.
Then the transformation began.
Like tiny shards of white snow, the paper disintegrated into minuscule fragments so small they seemed almost like dust before seeping into the cracks of the lens. As they merged with the glass, glowing runes appeared briefly along their surfaces, like faint inscriptions of light, before fading from sight.
In seconds, the damage was gone. The lens was flawless once more.
Selphira lifted the glasses to her face. By the time she set them in place, they looked brand new clear, smooth, without the faintest imperfection.
She smiled faintly, brushing an idle strand of hair behind her ear.
"Let me help you both out," she said aloud now, her voice carrying enough for those nearby to hear. "Such interesting strength deserves better conditions."
Small squares and strips of paper began swirling around her body, dancing in a controlled cyclone. Anyone close enough to see them in detail would notice the markings delicate, intricate characters of an ancient rune language, each no bigger than the grain of salt particles. There were hundreds of them, each one inscribed with painstaking precision.
Extending her right hand toward the arena, Selphira let the papers drift downward, moving as if they had wills of their own.
"Paper Transformation~" she whispered.
The air shimmered.
A sudden, vast burst of paper fragments appeared thousands, then tens of thousands flickering white and gold in the sunlight. They swirled outward in all directions, filling nearly the entire sky above the coliseum. The crowd gasped, their attention snapping away from Razeal and Sylvaâs clash to focus on her instead.
Her voice rang out over the hushed silence:
"Apologies, but as the referee, Iâll need to alter the arena grounds for the safety of the spectators and to give our participants room to fight without restriction."
The floating papers began to glow with the runic inscriptions etched into them. Then, like a tide, they flowed downward, spiraling toward the ruined battlefield below.
Wherever they touched the broken ground, they fused to it, piece by piece, layering themselves in perfect alignment. And as they settled, the transformation began each sheet shifting, folding, and altering at a level too small for the eye to follow.
The stone beneath was replaced by a pristine, seamless surface of white marble. It gleamed under the arena lights, its finish so flawless it seemed almost unreal. A faint glow of runes flickered briefly across it before fading, leaving only the smooth, shining structure behind.
Razeal watched the change unfold beneath his feet.
"Iâll admit..." he whistled, eyeing the flawless surface, "...thatâs impressive."
"And honestly i want power like hers too," he muttered under his breath. "Thatâs... absurdly useful."
He lifted his boot slightly, noting how the marble formed beneath it, replacing the fractured terrain in an instant. The paper spread like water across the arena, covering every inch, erasing all trace of the damage that had been there moments before.
At this moment he remembered her speciality.
Selphira Kane.
She was the wielder of one of the rarest and most unique forms of magic in the known world.
Paper Magic.
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Sorry, everyone I couldnât get time to write today again. Iâve been taking my sister to her doctorâs appointments these past few days, so itâs been hard to find a moment to sit down and write. My apologies for the inconvenience Iâm trying my best to make time.
I hope you all understand. Thank you for reading.
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