Avatar - Conquering the Elements-Chapter 60. The Leap.

Ba Sing Se. Capital of the Fire Nation.

"Contestant three hundred forty-five and one thousand five hundred seventy-nine!" the judge bellowed, his voice already hoarse. After all, he'd been officiating for hours.

It was my turn again. The qualifying matches had entered their tenth day, and clear favorites for the final had emerged. I had to admit, some opponents had surprised me with their techniques and strategies.

"Bow! Begin!" the judge waved his hand and stepped back respectfully.

Most had figured out my style by now, so I wasn't surprised when a fiery whip began coiling around my body. My arsenal of techniques made it impossible to let me take control.

Spinning on my hands, I unleashed flames from my feet—a move reminiscent of breakdancing but effective. I neutralized his attack, then advanced with quick steps, firing relentless fireballs from my hands like machine-gun bullets.

The mage deflected each shot with his hands, reducing damage with his mastery and absorbing the rest with his bracers.

"Another general's brat," I scoffed, knowing only the wealthy elite could afford such gear.

The alloy was invented by Kenji's daughter long ago, a breakthrough akin to winning a Nobel Prize. It absorbed fire exceptionally well, quickly adopted by the military. Standard Fire Nation mage armor was coated with it, but solid bracers were rare due to the costly metals involved.

"Rich boy," I muttered, annoyed by his smug grin. He was probably thinking, *Show me more, peasant.* Wait and see—I'll knock that confidence down a peg.

I stopped attacking, stood tall, and gestured provocatively: *Come on, I'm waiting.* It worked instantly—how dare I disrespect the Great Him!

The fun began for me, the tragedy for him—a tragicomic performance. I dodged his attacks lazily, extinguishing some as he did, using only my mastery. I even rolled up my kimono sleeves for effect.

Childish, yes, but I was teaching him a lesson I'd learned as a teen: *"No matter how much gear you have, true skill beats you every time."*

This one was stubborn, so I'd finish him. As I raised my hands, four thick pillars of flame erupted around him, trapping him in a raging inferno.

"Stop!" the sweating judge shouted, knowing he'd be blamed for injuries to a VIP's relative. The flames dissipated, revealing the boy unharmed, sitting cross-legged, arms wrapped around himself, face shielded. A smart move for a Fire Nation mage—facial burns were a mark of shame, showing either poor control or weakness.

The pillars were a signature move of Jong Jong, a renowned fire master. It's not just about sending flames—you must predict your opponent's steps and calculate precisely where the fire will rise. True mastery is raising dozens of pillars under enemies without harming allies nearby.

"Contestant three hundred forty-five wins!" the judge finally declared after five minutes of checking the loser's health.

My fights were done for the day. Time to head home, but first, a detour to deal with my "admirers."

Under the moonlight, on green grass, I faced two self-proclaimed ninjas making enough noise to scare off forest creatures.

"No money, no joining your cult, and I'm sick," I declared.

"We have a business offer," one began, ignoring me. "Admiral Ming politely asks you to let his son win tomorrow."

I expected this. The powerful always wanted their children in the finals to prove their superiority. Weaklings don't make it this far, so they try bribes first.

Ignoring their words, I noticed three groups of followers. The first approached to intimidate, the second pair stood closer, and the third on the other side. Let's listen in.

"Why are we watching this kid?" a "ninja" in the second group whispered.

"Youngsters, always needing lessons," a mature voice replied. "Ming's thugs will scare him. When he's hopeless, we'll step in as Minister Qin's men, stop them, and earn his trust. Then our lord invites him for tea, befriends him. He could become Qin's right-hand man—such talent is valuable."

If I were naive, I'd fall for it. Instead, I'd use their scheme.

"Same story every year," someone from the third pair sighed.

"They think they're so clever," the other chuckled. "Don't mess up, or you'll explain to the Fire Lord's secretary why we lost a future national treasure."

The third group was from the Palace, the Fire Lord's guard, protecting commoner talents. Noble, but knowing power's ego... it's futile.

"I heard you," I nodded to the first pair. "Tell your lord I'm Wan, descendant of my ancestors. I never compromise and act only with justice." Time to drop hints about myself.

Thanks to Roku, my history in the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom was already known. No need to worry here.

"Fine, no talking then," the speaker said. "A few broken bones will set you straight."

Before they could move, I struck their necks, sending them to dreamland, foiling the second group's plan.

"Not bad, kid," the Fire Lord's men chuckled.

"There are five more strong contenders from poor families, probably facing the same," I thought, planning.

I'd play the role of my "family's" worthy heir—a thorn in the aristocracy's side, champions of selective justice, ignoring the royal family's actions.

Over the next days, I wandered the city aimlessly, meeting other favorites. I saved some from thugs, offered help, and friendship.

All five were from poor families on remote Fire Nation islands. Their journey here cost a year's salary. One slept on the streets, barely affording food.

I hoped my persuasion skills brought them to my inn. Proud people like them rarely accepted charity, but I genuinely respected them. My sincerity likely sealed our bond.

Before the finals, I hosted a feast to solidify our friendship. Selfish, perhaps, but I had no intention of betraying them.

"Let's drink this juice. Alcohol comes after our victory," I smiled. "I'm bad at toasts, but I promise each of you will achieve your goals. And if not, those who succeed will help," I winked, sparking laughter.

My circle was forming. Just ensure power doesn't corrupt them later.

The next day, the entire capital seemed to head to the main arena. Listening to chatter, people came less for the fights than to see the royal family.

Inside the arena, voices hushed. Understandable—important figures were present.

In the participants' room, all twenty mages gathered. We six stood apart, while others formed cliques, united only in their hostile glances at us.

"Contestants two and ten, your turn!" an organizer called.

"Go, brother! Show them!" I slapped one of ours on the back.

Five minutes later, my friend returned victorious. Minutes passed, each of us fought half the contestants. I remained undefeated—no surprise there...

We agreed no holding back. Each fight was all-out, and it was heartwarming to see them cheer for me, even after losing.

All six of us ranked in the top ten—pride swelled. The final round remained: me and a seemingly delicate sixteen-year-old boy who deserved a master's title already—a true prodigy.

"Seven and twelve, show us what you've got!" the judge couldn't contain his excitement.

Time to unleash the fire that would take me to the top. Nervous, but here goes.

"The final match! Wan from the colonies versus Daru, the genius heir of a military family!"

Most cheered for me. People love underdogs rising against all odds.

"Ready? Begin!"

We showcased mastery, not mere play. Precise, calculated attacks—it felt like a game of Pai Sho at times.

"Look at those refined moves, those techniques! I promise, you'll call them future Dragons!" the judge was loving his job.

For minutes, we probed each other. Tension peaked. The crowd ignored the VIPs, chanting names. Even generals and admirals cheered wildly.

"Time," I whispered, leaping back to create space.

Without giving him a chance, I spun small flames around me, quickly forming a stream of green fire that soared upward. I shaped it into a dragon and sent it at him.

Credit to Daru—he recovered quickly, defending desperately. But the fire was relentless. In the end, he raised his hand in surrender.

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It all happened in seconds. The crowd watched in awe at the unusual flames. Dispelling the fire, I observed the royal box.

Azulon, stone-faced all day, showed surprise, rising from his throne, studying me like an unknown creature. Ozai looked conflicted—watch his father's rare emotions or the green fire wielder?

Some elderly nobles near the royal family stared in shock—old families remembering my lineage. Young Azula, eleven, watched me with shining eyes. Zuko wasn't far behind.

No one was indifferent. After ten seconds, applause erupted.

As I left the arena, someone rushed to me.

"Lord Fire Azulon requests your presence at the Palace by nine tonight!" I was simply informed. Alright, the game begins. My palms were slightly sweaty.