The Golem Mage

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