Tonight, the Supporting Character
Mo Fan made a circuit of the banquet hall, gathering scraps of information from various guests along the way.
*So that's how it is.* Was it really necessary to blow a duel between two young men into such a spectacle? In the end, it was nothing more than a proxy war for Bo City's factions.
For him personally, though, this wasn't a bad thing. If he performed well, "one fight to make your name" wouldn't be an exaggeration.
"Zhou Min, Zhang Xiaohou, He Yu, Zhang Yinglu, Xu Zhaoting, Wang Sanpang — why are all of you here?" Mo Fan suddenly spotted a cluster of familiar young faces. His classmates.
"The school handed out a few spots, and Mu Bai got us in as well. Our school's number one student is dueling a clan disciple — how could we miss this?" Xu Zhaoting said, a sour edge in his voice.
As a rare Lightning Element mage, Xu Zhaoting had originally expected to be the one claiming this slot. Then Mo Fan had come barging in and snatched it out from under him.
That said, after what had happened during the Field Expedition, the sting of losing to Mo Fan had faded considerably. Everyone owed Mo Fan their lives from that incident, and in truth, they were all hoping he'd put on a strong showing in this duel — for the honor of Tianlan Magic High School.
"Fan-ge, I just spotted Uncle Mo Jiaxing on the guest list," Zhang Xiaohou said. "Probably Mu He's doing."
"That's fine."
"Mo Fan, do your best!" Zhou Min said with a bright, guileless smile.
Mo Fan gave a small nod.
Two years ago, he never could have imagined that the duel he'd started would spiral into something the whole city was talking about.
*Fine. Fine.* The feeling of having every eye in the room on you — even if only once in a lifetime — was worth infinitely more than an entire life spent forgotten in some dark corner.
"Friends, honored guests — I am so glad you could all come to celebrate with my son today." Mu Zhuoyun sat at the head of the table, red wine glass raised, his face ruddy with satisfaction as he addressed the assembled guests. "Time has a way of slipping through our fingers. The day will come when all of us are too old to complete even a single spell. The future of Bo City will inevitably rest in the hands of those who are younger and more extraordinary than ourselves. You may think me excessive — throwing such a grand banquet merely to mark one son's Coming-of-Age Ceremony. But I have always believed that each new generation surpasses the last. I, Mu Zhuoyun, can only do so much for this city — enough to maintain what this city, which has nurtured so many Mages and brilliant minds, has already become. Yet in the next ten or twenty years, under the hands of the young, Bo City could flourish even further, could rise into an even greater city of mages. So tell me — am I wrong to hold a grand banquet so that all of you may witness that future together?"
"Well said — to Bo City's future! Everyone, raise your glasses!" Yang Zuohe was the first to rise, lifting his cup toward Mu Zhuoyun.
"All of us here have the right to speak of our Bo City — but when it comes to truly seeing what it will become, none can match Patriarch Mu Zhuoyun himself. This cup, I drain to the last drop!"
Every guest rose to their feet. Glasses clinked, and everyone drank.
Amid the full hall, Mo Fan noticed with quiet amusement that Tang Yue — who had also turned up to the banquet — seemed to have little stomach for Mu Zhuoyun's speech. She was rolling her eyes as she drank.
*Whatever grievance she has with that man, it clearly runs deep.*
When the grand, sweeping banquet was finally over — the kind that had made the entire Mu Clan Estate seem to radiate with Bo City's golden glory — the main event naturally arrived: the magic duel.
Many guests hadn't come for Mu Zhuoyun's well-worn platitudes. They were here to find out who would claim the Earth Sacred Spring this year.
How many of Bo City's Mages had spent their entire lives mired in the Basic-Level, casting the same spell until their hands were calloused from repetition, never once advancing? And how few had truly crossed into the realm of an Intermediate-Level Mage?
The Stardust stage was enigmatic and unforgiving. Plenty of people had burst onto the scene with extraordinary, heaven-gifted talent — and then spent their whole lives grinding against that invisible wall, never breaking through, never escaping Basic-Level. Against that backdrop, a natural treasure like the Earth Sacred Spring, which could bring a Mage tantalizingly close to the Intermediate threshold with remarkable likelihood, had become nothing short of a sacred relic in the eyes of the world.
The catch: it was open exclusively to the younger generation, those still brimming with limitless potential. Only one person was chosen each year — and most years, a clan disciple took it before any school student could.
Before he had become a student, Mo Fan had known nothing of such a treasure existing in Bo City. He hadn't realized that one reckless, impulsive move had sent him crashing headlong into a training opportunity that countless people in this city had spent years desperately yearning for.
*They really do say it right — if you never throw yourself at something, you'll never know how far you could go.*
The magic duel was finally at hand. Mo Fan had arrived early, following Mu Zhuoyun's arrangements, and now stood waiting in the dueling arena.
The arena was oval in shape — far larger than the training grounds at school, nearly the size of a full athletic field. Tiered seating rose on both sides, more than enough to accommodate every guest Mu Zhuoyun had invited today.
Mo Fan stood alone at the center. In truth, he'd been standing there for a while now.
Yu'ang had yet to appear. Clearly, Mu Zhuoyun needed to give his son a suitably theatrical entrance.
The feeling was not a pleasant one.
*I'm the bull*, Mo Fan thought, scanning the filling seats. *They've put the bull in the ring first so the audience can look it over — take stock of its weight, admire its powerful build, size up the sharpness of its horns. Then the dashing matador makes his blazing entrance: spotlights, fanfare, thunderous applause.*
"My son — yes, yes, that's my son right there!" Mo Jiaxing, incorrigible optimist that he was, was holding court among some of the older Mu Clan workers, practically glowing with pride.
"Not bad at all, Old Mo. Looks like you've finally turned things around," said one of the groundskeepers.
"Let's just hope he doesn't get beaten to a pulp. From what I've heard, Yu'ang goes hard even when sparring against his own brothers and sisters," said a worker responsible for the estate's cleaning.
"Kids dueling — how rough can it really get?" Mo Jiaxing chuckled, utterly unbothered.
As far as Mo Jiaxing was concerned, this was nothing more than an ordinary match. He genuinely believed a man of Mu Zhuoyun's stature wouldn't stoop to seriously harming a young student. In reality, most people in the hall knew perfectly well that Mu Zhuoyun intended to make a very public, very thorough example of Mo Fan.
"Placing bets! I'm betting this Mo Fan kid gets one-shotted!"
"Come on, he's still Tianlan Magic High School's top student — how's he getting one-shotted?"
"Bet's placed regardless. I've heard enough about what Yu'ang is capable of."
As the crowd buzzed with wagers and debate, Yu'ang finally appeared — dressed in a specially crafted outfit.
The garment was somewhere between fine leather and high-grade silk, catching the arena lights with a brilliant, almost liquid sheen. Combined with the striking ornaments adorning his person, the overall effect was that of a prince striding into his own throne room.
The styling alone had clearly demanded considerable effort — a stark contrast to Mo Fan, who had nearly shown up in sandals.
In those clothes, Yu'ang's bearing rose several notches above its usual level. His naturally tall frame, paired with a touch of refined, almost androgynous grace, made it easy to see why certain young women in the hall were already charmed. The snow-white robes bore an intricate pattern where his clan's emblem melded seamlessly with Ice Element spell-diagrams. Yu'ang's entrance was exactly as anticipated — brilliant, commanding, impossible to ignore — and the slight, self-assured smile at the corner of his lips, the smile that belonged only to those raised among the aristocracy, made one thing unmistakably clear:
Tonight, he was the protagonist.