Chapter 906: The Most Durable Gordons.
Brandon’s approach to the stage was slow and deliberate—almost too casual.
His movements lacked any urgency, and he gave off no aura of a warrior preparing for battle. Yet, he walked steadily to the battle ring and took his place opposite Kylian.
Once the judge saw the new participant of the War God Mage Academy standing ready, he saw no reason to delay the match.
“Begin!”
At the judge’s command, Brandon reached for one of the weapons on his back with his right hand.
Brandon’s weapons were always wrapped in cloth, resembling a mummy’s bindings, they had never been seen in a traditional scabbard before, since his father had gifted them to him that way and instructed him to care for them just as they were.
Since then, his sword and saber had remained wrapped, strapped lightly across his back, aided by the type of clothing he wore which made carrying them easier.
On days when his outfit didn’t allow for back placement—when the proper straps were absent, Brandon would simply hug them in his arms rather than storing them.
He rarely used the low-rank space ring Alec had given him after their last issue in the second Dimension to store his weapons.
His father had emphasized the importance of forming a deep connection with one’s weapons, and Brandon took that advice to heart, carrying them with him constantly was his way of strengthening that bond.
Now, for the first time in a long while, he decided to unsheathe one.
As his hand moved, the cloth wrapping his weapon began to unravel, swirling around his arm and coiling neatly over his right hand like a makeshift fighting glove—resembling the wrapping style of Muay Thai fighters.
While this display of control was subtle, it wasn’t lost on the audience.
Still, most assumed it was just Brandon showing off his mental control, a trait common among newly upgraded Tier 6 mages, they didn’t know that this wasn’t just flair.
Brandon didn’t care to put on a show, he had simply forged a bond with his weapons strong enough to make the cloth respond like an extension of his will.
However, Kylian’s gaze was fixed on the blade in Brandon’s hand—it looked intimidating, especially with the faint red line running down its length like a vein of power.
He narrowed his eyes, conjuring small ice spikes in both hands, though the judge had already announced the start of the battle, neither mage had made a move yet, as it felt like they were still measuring each other.
Finally, Brandon began to move—but not in the way Kylian expected.
He didn’t charge forward with explosive force like most mages would at the start of a duel. Kylian had assumed the War God Mage Academy would send someone aiming to end the match quickly to conserve mana, but Brandon clearly wasn’t in a rush.
Despite being slightly taller than Brandon, Kylian felt an invisible pressure building with every slow, calculated step the other mage took, and it was unsettling.
“AHH!” Kylian finally lost his patience and struck first, launching the two ice spikes he had conjured, but Brandon calmly raised his right hand and deflected them with his saber, the clash of ice against steel echoing sharply through the arena.
What unnerved Kylian most was how relaxed Brandon looked, his pace didn’t change, his expression remained unreadable, and each deflection came with casual precision.
It made sweat begin to bead on Kylian’s forehead.
Frustrated, Kylian intensified his assault, his hands blurred with motion as he sent a barrage of ice spikes screaming through the air, their speed fast enough to leave faint afterimages.
But Brandon’s side of the battlefield told a different story, his movements weren’t a blur—they were slow, deliberate, almost lazy by comparison.
And yet, somehow, each of Kylian’s attacks was parried, redirected, or knocked aside.
Step by step, Brandon advanced—his blade always in the right place, his body always in control, as if reading the future.
It all seemed too magical for those who didn’t understand the mechanics behind Brandon’s every move.
“Ahhhh!”
[> Mid Tier Spell – Frozen Tide <]
Kylian roared, thrusting his hands forward as he poured all his remaining mana into a final, desperate attack to take Brandon down.
The temperature plummeted as waves of razor-sharp ice blades surged toward Brandon like a crashing tide, and for the first time, Brandon dropped his lazy demeanour, as he placed his hand on the second weapon strapped to his back and drew the Sword of Tranquility.
The cloth wrapping it unravelled smoothly, coiling around his left arm like a woven brace.
Then, without hesitation, he dashed forward—straight into the oncoming storm.
The crowd held its breath. Brandon, who had been calm and composed the entire fight, now seemed reckless, charging headfirst into a barrage that could shred him, even Kylian felt a surge of satisfaction.
In his mind, Brandon had underestimated the scale of his attack, as he started to think that maybe, just maybe, this could turn the tides. If Brandon didn’t survive this, then he might actually win.
BOOM!
The moment Brandon collided with the frozen tide, a thunderous explosion rang out, followed by a thick cloud of freezing fog that enveloped the entire middle of the battlefield.
Everyone watching, Kylian included, stared into the mist, trying to make sense of what had happened.
Fifteen seconds passed with no movement, no sound.
Lucas and Pale exchanged uneasy glances. Worry crept in.
Perhaps Brandon had taken on more than he could handle, they didn’t understand why Alec had placed so much confidence in him.
However they only had his doubts because they hadn’t spent time together like old times since the new academy term began, they hadn’t yet seen the full extent of Brandon’s growth.
“Should we move in to get him?” Pale asked, barely able to hide the eagerness in his voice.
He was itching to fight, and while it wasn’t exactly honourable to feel good about a potential loss from a teammate, a part of him was secretly thrilled at the chance to step into the ring and he wanted to do that before Alec decided he would be changing the line up again .
“Move? He hasn’t even warmed up yet, and you want to intervene? Trash that thought,” Alec said calmly.
As Pale, Beatrice, and Lucas all turned to him in shock, surprised by the weight of his words and the calm conviction in his tone.
Meanwhile, Kylian stood proudly, confident that his Frozen Tide had done real damage, with Brandon still hidden in the fog, he broke into wild laughter, raising his hands as if already victorious.
But then—it happened.
A hand reached silently out from the ice fog.
No sound. No warning.
Brandon’s left hand gripped Kylian’s throat and effortlessly lifted him off the ground.
Slowly, he emerged from the fading mist, his body being encased in the activated Terra Sovereign Set.
Even while being choked, Kylian’s wide eyes drifted down to the hand gripping his neck, the wrapped cloth still coiled around Brandon’s arm shimmered with forged hand guard enchantments, as layers of elemental energy swirling around it.
He felt it—an overwhelming pressure—like staring at an ancient warlord returned from the grave.
Brandon now looked every bit like a battlefield general from the legends, all he lacked was a towering warhorse and a massive polearm to complete the image.
Behind him, spectral hands of sand gripped his weapons, while beneath his feet, a shifting cloud of sand carried him smoothly across the arena, that was why there had been no sound—no footstep, no echo.
Brandon had never been hurt, he had simply been approaching with the quiet authority of someone in total control.