The Golem Mage

690: 5v5.

690: 5v5.

“I thought the War God Mage Academy was known for its straightforward and hot-blooded approach, not these kinds of crowd-pleasing antics,” the Dean of the Royal Mage Academy remarked, her voice tinged with mockery.

Her eyes glinted with ulterior motives as she fixed her gaze on the War God Mage Academy’s Dean, who could only manage a dry chuckle in response.

Her bitterness was no secret; it stemmed from past grievances, particularly her failure to obtain either the Rune smith or the alchemist she had desired from the War God Academy.

This animosity fuelled her sharp words, invoking the strict principles of the former War God Mage Academy Dean.

It was well-known that the old dean had always disapproved of attempts to use crowd size or influence to intimidate opponents, labelling such tactics as despicable.

Yet now, the War God Academy seemed to be treading the same path.

Their lack of a significant student presence made it challenging for the crowd to just wind up identifying every member of their team, apart from Alec who is the team’s most prominent and widely recognized figure.

The truth was that most fans wouldn’t bother learning the names of every team member unless explicitly informed.

So without prior notice, such chants and morale-boosting efforts that came with listing names of every mage in the team would be hard to orchestrate effectively.

“I swear, I had nothing to do with this, but knowing you, you’re not going to believe me even if I tell you the truth,” the War God Mage Academy Dean said, shrugging his shoulders with feigned innocence.

“You sly fox,” she retorted with a snort.

“I’d sooner believe the lies of my enemies than anything you say.

Humph.” She turned her attention back to the center of the stage, dismissing him with a scoff.

—

Meanwhile, the instigator of all this, Alec, stood casually with his hands buried in his academy uniform pockets, with a sly smile playing on his lips.

He had observed how much the Great Eight Academies relied on their fan bases to undermine their opponents’ morale, and he had decided to give them a taste of their own medicine.

During his walk the previous day, he had contemplated ways to counteract the Bloodline Academy fans’ morale-boosting chants

And that was when some of Alec’s most enthusiastic fans noticed and recognized him, without waiting for him to say a word, they excitedly pulled him into a meeting that was being organised by mages from some ordinary Academy, as they were strategizing on how to better support the War God Mage Academy team in their upcoming match.

The group had felt that their efforts during the War God Academy’s battle against the Onyx Academy were lackluster, and now, with Alec unexpectedly joining them, their excitement soared.

They eagerly sought his suggestions, hanging on his every word.

After some thought, Alec casually suggested a simple idea, which was chanting the names of the War God Academy team members.

He hadn’t expected much from the suggestion, but to his surprise, the group treated it as a stroke of genius.

Alec then provided the names of all the team members, listing them in ascending order.

However, he hadn’t anticipated how quickly the names would spread among the fans within a few hours.

By the time the match began, the crowd was fully prepared.

The chanting started, building up name by name until it reached the final one:

“ALEC GORDONS!”

The arena erupted in deafening unison, the vibrations shaking the stadium like never before.

The name of a young mage from a mid-tier clan reverberated through the Royal Palace, leaving many patriarchs in the First VIP Section visibly stunned by the sheer impact Alec had on the crowd.

Alec stepped forward, spreading his arms and bowing gracefully to his supporters.

A warm smile adorned his face as he silently acknowledged their unwavering support.

While waving to the crowd, he spotted some familiar faces from the meeting the previous day and waved back at them with genuine gratitude.

Even after his name was chanted, it took some time for the left side of the arena to calm down.

Alec joined the red-haired referee in trying to quiet the crowd.

The referee, smiling knowingly, cast a glance toward the Ancient Blaze Clan patriarch in the First VIP Section.

The patriarch was watching his grandson intently, his expression unreadable, the referee couldn’t help but see parallels between himself and Alec, and he had deliberately allowed the chanting to continue just a little longer, as though savouring the moment.

The referee, who is a High Rank sound element mage, could have silenced the entire arena with a single spell if he wished.

However, he chose not to, he wanted the patriarch of the Blaze Clan to witness the sheer influence Alec commanded.

Like Alec, the referee was also born into the Blaze Clan, but their circumstances differed.

His mother came from a high-tier clan despite the fact that it was from the branch side of the family, so she was shielded from the scorn and insults Alec’s mother had endured when the Blaze Clan rejected her union with Alec’s father.

With the Blaze Bloodline running through him he had the backing of his mother’s clan, and he had risen to become one of the most sought-after Tier 8 mages.

Ever since, he had sided with anyone against the Blaze Clan’s rigid beliefs concerning marriage, finding himself quietly rooting for Alec’s success.

“Phew, what energy!” the referee exclaimed, smirking as the crowd finally quieted.

“Since you’re all done now, I suppose it’s time for me to explain the format of the final battle.”

The arena fell into silence, every eye fixed on the referee as they eagerly awaited his announcement about the rules for the decisive match.

“The final battle will be a five-versus-five match,” he began.

“The academy with the highest number of wins will be crowned the champions, however, if either academy secures three wins first, they will be unofficially declared the champions even before all the matches conclude.”

He paused, allowing the crowd to absorb the information before continuing.

“With all the details now laid out, each academy will have ten minutes to decide who will represent them in each of the five matches.”

As he finished speaking, the referee vanished in a puff of smoke.

In his place, a small hourglass appeared, its sand steadily trickling down to mark the ten-minute time limit.

The teams wasted no time, retreating to strategize and prepare for the battles that would decide the ultimate victor.