The conflict between James and Francis spread like wildfire.
"James? That old man? That James?"
The new apprentices weren't familiar with James, but those who worked in Adam's laboratory knew who he was, and they were stunned upon hearing the news.
Elliott was a recluse too -- if nothing important happens, he would never leave his laboratory, especially since the Monte Carlo apprentices were roaming around the Academy. However, upon hearing the news, he couldn't help but rush out of the laboratory.
He knew how strong Francis was -- although James was strong in his own right, he was deathly aware of how old and frail James' current body was.
Along the way, Elliott gritted his teeth, and turned around and flew rapidly towards Adam's laboratory. He knew Adam must be holed up in his laboratory, but this must be made known to him.
...
"James, have you lost your mind?! Why are you duelling the barbarians of Monte Carlo?!"
"Give it up! You can't win!"
Nobody in the crowd was rooting for James. They couldn't watch him walk to his death like this.
James ignored all of them, standing alone in the arena in silence. No fear, no tension, just calm.
Suddenly, the crowd parted, and the apprentices from Monte Carlo stepped onto the arena.
Lord Bill and Lord Monica took the lead, landing at the other end of the arena. Monica glanced around the crowd and smiled, "What a crowd, dear Bill! They seem to be angry... and scared."
Lord Bill glared at Lord Monica, but he didn't want to deal with this crazy woman, instead hurrying Francis, "Hurry up and deal with him. I don't want us to be watched like animals."
Francis nodded, conjuring a gust of wind beneath his feet, landing on the arena in an instant, "I really hate this feeling of being surrounded by trash!"
Moldo's apprentices took offence, jeering at him.
James simply asked, "Is your monologue done?"
James' words stung Francis, but he nodded seriously, "No, but I will save it for when you die!"
As soon as he spoke, he conjured multiple runes in an instant and shot out several blades of wind that broke the sound barrier, but no one was willing to blink. Their gaze instantly fell on James, worried that he would be killed instantly.
Monte Carlo's apprentices cheered, knowing that Francis specialised in wind magic.
James didn't react at all, standing still. He didn't conjure any runes, nor did he cast any defensive magic, as if he was a sitting duck waiting to die.
Francis shot up into the sky, casting more magic in quick successions. The typhoon and wind blades rushed towards James.
As soon as the blades of wind were about to slice James open, his psychic barriers began to stack up layer by layer, quickly dissipating his wind blades and turning the typhoon into a light breeze, and James was unscathed.
"Is this the person who invented psychic power?" Lord Bill asked.
A bed of flowers grew by Lord Monica's feet, and she laid in it, "It must be? I've heard of this psychic power a long time ago; I didn't expect it to be this... interesting."
"It is. Not a single trace of magic."
Francis wasn't surprised that James was able to block his attacks, but this was better for him -- a tough battle would make him revered among his peers.
The Monte Carlo apprentices simply scoffed, thinking that psychic power wasn't enough to defeat Francis; Moldo's apprentices clenched their fists and crossed their fingers, hoping that James could create a miracle.
Francis snapped his fingers, conjuring thousands of whirlwinds that converged into a huge tornado, which advanced towards James threateningly. The destructive force of the tornado caused the arena to be damaged, and the spectators had to cast defensive magic to protect themselves from the stray projectiles.
James took a deep breath, floating and condensing layers upon layers of psychic barriers on his body. James was like a giant, facing the incoming tornado.
"Enough!" Francis bellowed, continuing to cast destructive tornadoes towards James.