All-around teacher at the magic academy

Hansen's gaze swept quickly across the audience, his heart pounding slightly as he hoped to find that familiar figure in the crowd.

His father, the always serious and silent nobleman, should have been present at this important occasion. However, among the rows of luxurious chairs and the nobles dressed in their finest attire, his father was nowhere to be seen.

A fleeting hint of disappointment flashed in Hansen's eyes, and the corners of his mouth drooped slightly, but he quickly composed himself. "Perhaps Father has more important matters to attend to, or is he secretly observing from the shadows? He has never liked such noisy occasions," Hansen silently reassured himself, trying to suppress the sense of loss.

Then his gaze shifted to the area of ​​St. Peter's College, where his teachers and classmates sat. Many of them were cheering him on, but Mr. Leon's seat was empty.

His absence left Hansen feeling an indescribable loneliness and a sense of being unimportant.

In another corner of the arena, Eric quietly observed Hansen. He understood Hansen's feelings and knew how much Hansen longed for his father's approval and support. Eric also felt a pang of regret for Hansen and could only silently cheer him on.

Hansen took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of all emotions. He knew the match was about to begin and he needed to concentrate fully. Then, his gaze fixed firmly on his opponent.

Hansen didn't know his opponent well, but the opponent's calm and confident expression put pressure on him. There wasn't a trace of panic in his opponent's eyes, as if victory was already assured. Hansen knew this match wouldn't be as easy as usual; he had to give it his all to have even a sliver of hope.

A flicker of displeasure crossed Warwick's eyes as he stared intently at Hansen, noticing the man's apparent distraction. In such a crucial moment, any lapse in concentration could lead to defeat, and Hansen's attitude made Warwick feel slighted.

His brow furrowed involuntarily, and he cursed inwardly, "What is this guy doing? Is he looking down on me?"

As soon as the referee's loud announcement to start the match rang out, both players quickly got into the game.

Warwick was the first to construct a magic circle, his eyes becoming focused and sharp. Seeing this, Hansen immediately became alert, gathering wind elemental energy around himself. With a gentle wave of his hand, a soft whistling sound filled the air. Under his control, the wind elemental energy formed a protective barrier, ready to counter any attack from Warwick.

But time ticked by, and the expected attack never came. Hansen was puzzled. He narrowed his eyes, trying to find clues in Warwick's actions. Warwick's magic circle was complete, but he hadn't launched any attack. Hansen was perplexed. What was going on?

A resolute glint flashed in Hansen's eyes. Since his opponent hadn't launched an immediate attack, he decided to seize the opportunity. His hands moved swiftly, and several sharp wind blades instantly condensed in the air, whistling as they tore through the air, heading straight for Warwick opposite him.

Warwick's gaze remained calm as he watched the wind blade slice through the air towards him. His body swayed slightly, his feet seemingly twisting casually on the ground, yet he perfectly avoided the wind blade's path. His movements were elegant and fluid, like a meticulously choreographed dance.

As soon as Warwick dodged the wind blades, he felt a scorching heat rush towards him. He had no time to think and instinctively stomped his foot on the ground, propelling his body forward and quickly moving away from his original position to avoid the ensuing heat wave.

Seeing this, Hansen pressed his advantage, giving Warwick no chance to catch his breath. He controlled the surge of wind elements around him, and a gentle breeze gathered around him, then swept him rapidly toward Warwick.

The distance was a little too far, and he wasn't sure if his control skills could hit the opponent, so he could only try to get closer.

Warwick remained unusually calm throughout, dodging Hansen's attacks without ever retaliating.

There was no trace of panic in his eyes, as if everything was under his control. As Hansen rapidly approached, a barely perceptible hint of anticipation even flashed in Warwick's eyes.

Hansen, feeling confident that his tactics seemed to be working, unconsciously smiled. He felt ice elemental magic gathering beneath his feet, then rapidly spreading towards Warwick like a thin layer of ice.

The freezing aura grew stronger, and Hansen saw that his opponent was being affected by his magic. He began to plan his victory.

The freezing sensation started at Warwick's feet, spreading upwards little by little, gradually covering his shoes and then his calves, seemingly about to render him immobile. Hansen's excitement grew, feeling he had reached the very edge of victory.

However, at that moment, Hansen suddenly felt a chill, a chill unlike that of ice elemental magic; it seemed to surge up from the depths of his heart.

He had never felt this way before when casting ice elemental magic; the sudden chill made him frown. He didn't have time to think about the source of the chill, because the match looked like it was about to end.

However, when Hansen's eyes met Warwick's again, he noticed something was amiss.

Warwick's face remained calm, even with a slight smile, an expression that unsettled Hansen. A strange tension welled up within him; why could Warwick maintain such composure when he was about to be frozen?

Hansen's feeling grew stronger and stronger; the sense of unease was like a thorn in his back, making him shiver involuntarily.

His intuition told him that something was seriously wrong, but his reason couldn't find any clues. He stared intently at Warwick, trying to find answers in his calm face, but to no avail.

As Warwick's body was gradually covered in ice, Hansen's confidence began to return. He told himself that whatever it felt like, it was time to end the match. He took a deep breath, adjusted his posture, and prepared to launch a decisive attack to secure the victory.

However, just as he was about to strike, Hansen suddenly found himself unable to move. His heart leaped, and a wave of fear washed over him. He tried to move his arm, even his fingers, but they were as if bound by invisible chains, completely unresponsive.

Warwick stood opposite the ice-sculpted figure, a satisfied smile on his face. Just as he had expected.