Aetheric Chronicles: Reborn As An Extra

The crowd roared with anticipation as Adrian and the fire mage, a confident young woman named Velina, stepped into the arena. Velina's fiery orange hair seemed to match the flickering flames that danced at her fingertips. She was a prodigy known for overwhelming her opponents with relentless, high-powered fire spells, and her reputation as a fearsome combatant preceded her.

Adrian, however, remained calm, his sword now resting at his side. His eyes were sharp, analyzing every detail about her stance, the flickers of her magic, and the slight smirk she wore—clearly, she underestimated him or was just confident in her strength and victory.

The announcer's booming voice cut through the noise. "The third match of the finals begins now! Let the battle commence!"

Velina wasted no time, thrusting both hands forward and unleashing a stream of flames that roared across the battlefield. The fire surged toward Adrian like a fiery serpent, its heat distorting the air.

Adrian sidestepped gracefully, his movements precise and economical. As the flames scorched the spot where he once stood, he sprinted to the side, closing the gap between them.

Velina flicked her wrist, conjuring a wall of fire to cut him off, but Adrian was already one step ahead. He darted back, his form blurring for an instant, leaving behind what appeared to be himself, standing still at the edge of the fire.

Velina's eyes narrowed. "A decoy?" she muttered.

Without hesitation, she hurled a fireball directly at the still figure. The explosion sent embers flying, but when the smoke cleared, Adrian was nowhere to be found.

A whisper of wind behind her was all the warning Velina received. She spun around and unleashed a fiery barrier just in time, forcing Adrian to leap back and regroup. Her barrier dissipated quickly, and she glared at him.

Experience more on empire

"You're faster than I thought," Velina admitted, a grin tugging at her lips. "But speed won't save you from my flames."

Adrian said nothing, his expression cool and unreadable.

Velina began her next assault by planting her feet and channeling her energy. The ground beneath her cracked, and twin streams of fire spiraled around her arms before she thrust them forward. A barrage of firebolts rained down on Adrian in rapid succession, each one exploding on impact.

Adrian moved with uncanny precision, weaving through the onslaught.

Each step seemed almost too perfect, as if he anticipated the exact trajectory of every attack. Velina snarled as she pushed more power into her spells, the intensity of the flames increasing with every cast. Yet, each time she believed she had him, Adrian's form shimmered and dissolved, leaving only afterimages in his wake.

Her frustration grew. "Stop dodging and fight me, coward!" she shouted, launching a massive orb of condensed fire toward Adrian.

The attack struck true—or so it seemed. A deafening explosion rocked the arena, and flames engulfed the spot where Adrian had stood. The crowd held their breath, waiting for the dust to clear.

When it did, Velina's eyes widened. Standing just behind her, completely unharmed, was Adrian. He had left another temporal echo, a perfect illusion of himself that had tricked her into wasting her strongest spell.

Fury burned in Velina's gaze as she whirled around, her hands glowing with searing heat. She formed a complex sigil in the air, the runes sparking as she channeled another powerful fire spell.

"You won't dodge this!" she screamed.

A massive phoenix of flames burst forth, its wings spreading wide as it surged toward Adrian with unrelenting speed.

Adrian's eyes narrowed, and he moved with a calm fluidity. His figure blurred and seemed to split, creating multiple afterimages that darted in different directions. Velina's phoenix tore through one echo after another, each time dissipating harmlessly into the air.

"You're just running!" Velina yelled, her voice tinged with desperation. She fired smaller fireballs at the afterimages, her movements becoming more erratic. Her focus wavered, and in her frustration, she failed to notice Adrian closing the distance between them.

At the last second, Velina feigned exhaustion and dropped her hands, leaving her back seemingly exposed. Adrian seized the opportunity, dashing toward her with his sword ready to strike.

"Got you!" Velina snarled, spinning around with a triumphant smirk. She unleashed an explosive spell directly in front of her, the force of the blast shaking the arena and sending plumes of fire and smoke skyward.

But when the flames cleared, her smirk faltered. Instead of a charred opponent, she found herself facing yet another afterimage.

A chill ran down her spine as she felt the cold edge of steel rest lightly against her neck. She turned her head slightly and found Adrian standing behind her, his sword poised with deadly precision, his expression calm and composed.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"You rely too much on power," Adrian said quietly, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "That's why you lost."

Velina's shoulders slumped in defeat. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as the announcer's voice boomed.

"Winner: Adrian! Advancing to the semi-finals!"

Adrian withdrew his sword and stepped back, offering Velina a respectful nod. She glared at him for a moment before sighing, the fire in her eyes dimming.

"You're good," she admitted grudgingly. "Better than I expected."

Adrian didn't respond. He simply turned and walked away, his focus already shifting to the next challenge. As the crowd chanted his name, he felt no need to bask in their adoration. This was just a small, like children's fight compared to what he has gone through.

'Alas, these people pay too much attention to these kinds of things. Fame, glory, recognition...' Adrian thought as he walked away from the cheering crowd. 'It's almost sad how many young talents get caught up in this mentality, chasing approval and validation from others instead of true growth.'

He paused near the arena's exit, watching as some younger spectators excitedly reenacted moments from the match, their eyes shining with dreams of glory.

'How many of them will face crushing disappointment when they realize that true strength isn't about spectacular displays or crowd approval?' Adrian mused, a hint of melancholy crossing his features. 'How many will develop anxiety, depression, or lose their way entirely because they tie their worth to others' recognition?'

His gaze softened as he remembered his own past. 'But then again, who am I to judge? I was once the same, wasn't I? Young, eager to prove myself, desperate for acknowledgment...' A slight, knowing smile touched his lips. 'It took experiencing real battles, real loss, real pain to understand what truly matters.'

As he made his way to the preparation area for the semi-finals, Adrian observed some young Awakeners practicing flashy spells, clearly inspired by the tournament displays. Their excitement was palpable, but so was their focus on impressing others rather than achieving true mastery.

'The path of combat, of magic, of any pursuit really—it's not about the applause,' he thought. 'It's about the quiet moments of dedication, the failures that no one sees, the countless hours of practice when no one's watching. That's where true strength is forged.'

He stopped to take a drink of water, his mind already analyzing the upcoming matches. 'Still, perhaps this is just part of growing up. Sometimes you need to chase the wrong things to understand what's truly important. I just hope they learn this lesson before it costs them too dearly.'

The announcer's voice boomed again, calling for a brief recess before the semi-finals. Adrian closed his eyes, centering himself. He had shown enough of his abilities for now—just enough to advance, just enough to send a message.

'In the end,' he thought, 'true strength isn't about what others see in you. It's about what you see when you look in the mirror, knowing you've stayed true to your principles, your training, your purpose, and your path.'

With that thought, he began his preparations for the next match. The crowd's cheers had already faded from his mind, replaced by the calm focus that had carried him through countless real battles. This tournament was just another tiny step on his path—nothing more, nothing less.