The Extra's Reincarnation

The entire arena fell silent as Kaelen made his way down to the ring.

His movements were nothing short of calm and composed, showing none of the hesitation that had marked the previous challengers.

The contrast between it all was truly amazing.

While others had shrunk from Uzan's challenge, Kaelen approached it liked he had been looking forward to it all day.

I couldn't help but smile slightly.

This was exactly how it was supposed to go.

In the original novel, this moment had been pivotal.

There were doubts of Kaelen's capabilities as a cross mage but after this fight it'll show Kaelen's display of his true skills, the beginning of his legend at Aethel Academy.

As Kaelen stepped into the ring, I leaned forward in anticipation.

The match that was about to unfold would establish him as Uzan's equal, perhaps even his superior.

It would be the first indication to everyone that the unassuming swordsman from the provinces was destined for greatness.

Uzan regarded Kaelen with mild interest, the first real emotion he'd displayed all day. "You're either brave or foolish," he said, his deep voice carrying easily through the hushed arena.

"Maybe both," Kaelen replied with a slight shrug.

"But I'd rather find out my limits than wonder about them."

Uzan's lips curved into the barest hint of a smile.

"Admirable. Most prefer comfortable ignorance to painful truth."

I watched their exchange with a sense of déjà vu.

The dialogue wasn't exactly as I remembered from the novel, but the essence was the same—mutual respect between two exceptional talents, each recognizing something worthy in the other.

"Begin!"

What followed was nothing short of spectacular. Kaelen moved with lightning speed, his blade weaving intricate patterns as he tested Uzan's defenses. Unlike previous challengers, he didn't commit to any single attack, instead using a series of feints and probing strikes to gauge his opponent's capabilities.

Uzan responded with measured precision, each movement economical and deliberate. Where Kaelen was fluid and graceful, Uzan was solid and immovable—a perfect contrast of fighting styles.

"They're evenly matched," Tylo whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

I nodded, feeling a surge of satisfaction.

This was how it should be.

Their first clash had ended with Kaelen narrowly defeating Uzan, establishing himself as the premier combat talent among the first-years.

The fight intensified as Kaelen began incorporating mana into his swordplay, his blade glowing with azure energy. Each strike now carried additional force, and even Uzan was forced to acknowledge the increased threat by adjusting his stance.

For a moment, it seemed Kaelen was gaining the upper hand. His attacks grew more confident, more precise, and Uzan was being forced back for the first time all day.

The crowd was on their feet now, cheering as Kaelen pressed his advantage.

His blade became a blur of motion, forcing Uzan to give ground for the first time in the match.

A look of determination crossed Kaelen's face as he sensed victory within reach.

This was it—the moment when he would establish himself as the premier fighter among the first-years.

But then something changed.

Uzan's expression shifted subtly, his eyes narrowing with newfound focus. As Kaelen launched what should have been a decisive combination—a feint followed by a mana-enhanced thrust that had never failed him before—Uzan simply... disappeared.

No, not disappeared. He moved with such explosive speed that he seemed to vanish from one position and materialize in another. It was a technique I'd never seen before, certainly nothing mentioned in the original novel.

"Phantom Step," someone whispered behind me. "That's a royal dwarven technique passed down only through the direct bloodline."

Before Kaelen could recover from his surprise, Uzan was behind him, one massive hand already in motion. There was no dramatic windup, no flashy preparation—just a single, devastating palm strike to the base of Kaelen's spine.

"What the fuck?""

BOOOOOM!

The impact echoed through the arena like a thunderclap.

Kaelen's body went rigid, his eyes widening in shock before rolling back as consciousness fled him. He crumpled to the ground without even a cry of pain, his sword clattering uselessly beside him.

The entire arena fell silent, stunned by the sudden reversal.

This was wrong. Completely wrong.

In the original storyline, Kaelen had won this fight. It had been his crowning moment, the first step in his journey to becoming one of the most revered combat specialists at the academy.

Yet here he lay, unconscious at Uzan's feet.

"Winner: Uzan Modan Jr.," Drothgar announced, his voice betraying no surprise at the outcome. "Ninth consecutive victory."

I gripped the edge of my seat, my knuckles white with tension. This deviation from the original plot wasn't minor—it was fundamental.

If Kaelen didn't establish himself as Uzan's equal or superior now, the entire trajectory of his character development would change.

As medical staff rushed to attend to Kaelen's I knew how much worse this could get.

This entire scenario was a complete rewriting of a pivotal moment in the original story.

Kaelen's defeat would ripple through everything that followed, potentially altering the entire trajectory of events I'd memorized so carefully.

Drothgar rose from his seat, surveying the subdued audience.

"Uzan Modan Jr. stands at nine consecutive victories," he announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the arena.

"One more victory and he claims the forty merit points. Are there any remaining contestants who wish to volunteer?"

Silence greeted his question.

After witnessing what had happened to Kaelen, the only swordsman widely regarded as one of the strongest first-years—no one was foolish enough to step forward.

If Uzan secured those merit points without challenge, his position would be unassailable.

Because Kaelen isn't able to get points this situation would be a counterbalance to Uzan's growing influence, the rival that kept him in check.

Without that rivalry...

-You're considering stepping in, aren't you?

"I think I'd rather be ignorant than foolish," I whispered under my breath.

"He's probably stronger than me no?"

-That mentality will get you killed my boy!

-Perhaps it's time to take a more active role.

Before I could respond, Uzan's voice cut through the silence.

"Is there truly no one else?" he asked, his tone conveying boredom rather than challenge. "I expected more from this year's cohort."

His gaze swept across the audience, then inexplicably settled directly on me. A faint smile crossed his face, as if he'd found something interesting.

"Drothgar," Uzan called, turning to the discipline officer. "I'd like to issue a direct challenge."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Direct challenges were unusual, especially from someone already on a victory streak.

Drothgar raised an eyebrow, the first real expression he'd shown all day. "To whom?"

Uzan's finger rose, pointing directly at where I sat.

"Julian,"