The Grand Arena was a colosseum of floating stone rings, surrounded by a shimmering forcefield dome that separated the violence from the VIPs.
It seated fifty thousand students and faculty, and today, it was full. The noise was a physical weight—a wall of sound that vibrated in the teeth.
"And entering the ring," the commentator’s voice boomed, amplified by Wind Magic, "The underdogs... or perhaps the under-cleaning-crew... The Old Earth History Club!"
A wave of boos washed over them. Popcorn, empty cups, and minor hexes rained down from the Elite stands.
"Ignore them," Lack Flameheart said, walking point. He wore his heavy mining gear—the hydraulic knuckles hissing softly with every step.
Behind him walked his selected squad for this round:
- Lack (Vibration/Leader)
- Borg (Tank/Counter)
- Torin (Ranged Support)
- Serra (Crowd Control)
The other three—Mina, Olan, and Kip—sat on the stone bench at the very edge of the ring, anchored by nervous tension. They were the reserves, safe behind the energy barrier.
"Opponents," Lack noted, his eyes scanning the data. "The Fire Fist Club. Four members."
Their opponents stood in the centre. Four students wearing polished crimson armour, their fists wreathed in flames that distorted the air.
The captain, Pyro (Fire God - Executor), sneered. "Look at them," Pyro laughed, his voice crackling like dry wood. "A glutton, a coward, a nerd, and a flashlight. This will take thirty seconds. Formation Alpha! Burn them to ash!"
"Formation B," Lack whispered to his team. "The Slip-and-Slide."
"BEGIN!" the referee shouted.
The four Fire Fist members charged in unison. Bypassing standard spells, the team ignited Jet Propulsion, shooting fire from their feet to dash forward at incredible speed. They aimed to overwhelm Lack's team with pure kinetic force and thermal shock.
"Now, Serra!" Lack shouted.
Serra adjusted her glasses. She didn't aim at the enemies. She aimed at the path in front of them. "Friction Reduction: 90%."
The stone floor instantly turned into a surface slicker than wet ice.
The Fire Fist members, relying on traction for their jet-dashes, lost all control. Their feet slid out from under them. But because they were propelling themselves with fire, they didn't just fall—they became spinning projectiles, careening wildly across the arena like uncontrolled rockets.
"Whoa!" Pyro yelled, spinning like a top.
"Torin! Disorient!" Lack commanded.
Torin nocked a blunt arrow. "Wind Art: Turbulence!" He fired into the centre of the spinning enemies. The arrow exploded into a chaotic vortex of air. It didn't hurt them, but it messed with their inner ears. The fire users were now sliding, spinning, and dizzy.
"Borg! Feed!"
Borg stepped forward. One of the fire users, trying to regain balance, launched a desperate Fireball. Borg didn't dodge. He caught the fireball in his mouth. Gulp.
"Spicy!" Borg burped. His Energy Cell flared. He channelled that energy into his fist. "Borg... Smash!" He punched the sliding fire user as he flew past. The impact sent the student flying into the energy barrier. [One Down].
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Pyro managed to stabilise himself using fire jets as thrusters. "Enough tricks! Inferno Wave!" He gathered his remaining two teammates. They combined their mana. A massive wall of fire, ten metres high, rolled toward Lack's team. It covered the entire width of the ring. There was no dodge.
"Behind me!" Lack ordered.
Lack stepped to the front. He didn't raise a shield. He pulled his right fist back. The hydraulic piston hissed, compressing to its limit. He checked his Vibration Radar. He needed to hit the frequency of the fire itself.
"Knuckle Style: Vacuum Cannon."
BOOM. He punched the air.
With Strength 432, the punch created a localised low-pressure zone. It wasn't just a wind blast; it was an oxygen thief. The shockwave tore through the centre of the Inferno Wave, scattering the mana structure and starving the fire of the oxygen it needed to burn.
The wall of flames split down the middle, passing harmlessly on either side of Lack’s team.
Pyro’s shocked face was exposed entirely through the gap in the fire. "Checkmate," Lack whispered.
He appeared in front of Pyro. Agility 398. He didn't punch Pyro's face. He gently tapped Pyro's chest armour. Snap. Vibration.
The vibration travelled through the armour, bypassing the physical defence, and rattled Pyro’s equilibrium (inner ear). Pyro’s eyes rolled back. He collapsed without taking a scratch.
[Winner: Old Earth History Club]
The arena went dead silent. It wasn't a fluke. It was a tactical dismantling.
"We... we won?" Torin squeaked, lowering his bow. "We won," Serra smiled, fixing her glasses.
The team gathered in the centre of the ring to celebrate. Mina, Olan, and Kip ran from the bench to join them, cheering. "Group hug!" Borg shouted, opening his massive arms.
Lack smiled. He relaxed his stance. He reached into his pocket to grab the Evidence Bag (the first bomb) to present to the judges.
HUMMMMM.
Lack’s Vibration Radar screamed. It wasn't a sound. It was a ripple in the Karmic Flow. A Trigger had been pulled.
Source: The stone bench where Mina and the others had just been sitting. Status: DETONATION IMMINENT.
Lack turned. A faint, lethal distortion warped the air directly under the bench. A Void Seed. But his team wasn't safe. Mina and Kip were still running from the bench toward him. They were right in the blast radius.
"GET BACK!" Lack screamed.
They froze, confused. "Lack?"
He didn't have time to explain. He didn't have time to use a skill. Logic: Run away to survive. Illogic: Run toward the explosion to save the weak.
Lack launched himself. He tackled Mina and Kip, shoving them violently toward Borg and Torin. "Borg! Catch them!" He pushed them out of the lethal zone. But the recoil of his push left him stranded. He was now the only thing standing between the bomb and his friends.
KA-BOOM.
The Second Bomb detonated. It wasn't fire. It was Void Force. A sphere of purple gravity-distortion expanded instantly.
Before the blast hit, Lack used Vibration to disrupt the epicentre. He snapped his fingers, creating a counter-vibration bubble to dampen the shockwave. Lack crossed his arms. He flared his Energy Cell to 100%.
"Tanking Style: Iron Will!"
The blast hit him. A freight train made of static collided with his chest. His hydraulic gloves shattered. His uniform disintegrated. His ribs cracked with a sickening crunch. He was thrown backward, skidding across the arena floor for fifty metres, leaving a trail of blood.
"LACK!" Torin screamed.
The arena descended into chaos. The blast had shattered the energy barrier. Debris rained down. Smoke filled the air.
Lack lay in the rubble. His vision was swimming. His health bar was flashing red. [Health: 12%] [Status: Concussed, Rib Fracture, Internal Bleeding.]
"He... he saved us," Mina wept. The absolute scale of the sacrifice locked into place.
But the nightmare wasn't over. The smoke parted. A figure advanced with terrifying calm toward Lack’s broken body. The figure wore a Shadow Faculty uniform, but his face was a shifting mask of smoke.
The Silent Shadow.
"Impressive durability," the Shadow’s voice echoed—the physical grind of heavy stones. "You took a Dreallytear Seed point-blank and kept your limbs attached. But you are broken, Flameheart."
Lack tried to push himself up. His arms trembled. He coughed, spitting blood. "You..." Lack wheezed. "You tried to kill my team."
"Collateral damage," the Silent Shadow shrugged, summoning a dagger of solidified shadow. "Now, give me the Evidence Bag. And die."
Lack reached for his belt. The bag was still there, scorched but intact. His focus anchored onto his friends. Borg was holding the others back, protecting them from the falling debris. They were safe.
Lack grinned. His teeth were stained red.
"Hey, Shadow," Lack rasped, forcing his broken body to stand. He raised his bare, bloodied fists. The hydraulic gloves were gone. It was just skin and bone now.
"You made a mistake," Lack whispered, the Illogical Vibration humming in his very marrow.
"Oh?" The Silent Shadow stepped closer. "And what is that?"
"You didn't check my health bar."
[Adrenaline Surge: Pain Blocked]
? ? ?