By the time Toma and the others reached the infirmary, Kaine had already finished treating Lyrien. The girl lay motionless on the bed, her breathing calm and steady.

  Arvian didn’t hesitate for a second. The concern in his voice was immediate as he looked toward Kaine.

  “What’s Lyrien’s condition now?”

  Kaine straightened up after checking the instruments beside the bed. She looked tired, but calm.

  “I healed every wound I could find. The real issue was that too much water entered her lungs. She’s stable now, though—fortunately, she wasn’t submerged for long.”

  The explanation didn’t ease the tension in Toma’s chest. His eyes never left Lyrien as the words slipped out almost harshly.

  “Then why is she still unconscious?”

  Kaine let out a quiet breath before answering, choosing her words carefully.

  “Because of the drowning and the lack of air. Her brain didn’t get enough oxygen for a short time, so she lost consciousness. But don’t worry—there won’t be any lasting damage. She might remain unconscious for a few more days, though, so she’ll stay here in the infirmary until she wakes up.”

  At that moment, Arvian stepped closer and rested a firm hand on Toma’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on her. You have a match coming up—go and focus on that.”

  Toma looked down at Lyrien again. She seemed peaceful, as if she were only asleep, her face completely still. After a long second, he lifted his gaze to Arvian.

  “Thanks, bro. Then I’m leaving her to you and Arlen.”

  Arvian answered with a simple nod.

  Arlen forced a grin, trying to break the heaviness of the moment.

  “Good luck out there.”

  Without another word, Toma stepped out into the hallway. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a deep breath and headed straight for the locker room.

  ***

  While Toma prepared himself, his opponent wasn’t idle either.

  In the opposite locker room, the student council president stood before Toma’s upcoming rival, his tone sharp and demanding.

  “Listen carefully. I want you to defeat the blue-haired guy—no matter what it takes. You’ll be paid very well. Use everything you’ve got.”

  The competitor hesitated, clearly uneasy.

  “I understand, Mr. President, but it won’t be easy. He’s one of the strongest fighters in this tournament.”

  Velk’s patience snapped immediately.

  “I don’t care. If you need the money, then make it happen.”

  A short pause followed before the man answered honestly.

  “I do need it… but I can’t guarantee a win. Tell me something, though—are you afraid to face him yourself?”

  The air changed instantly.

  Velk’s expression twisted with rage. Without another word, he slammed his fist into the floor, the impact echoing through the room like a small explosion.

  “No! That’s not it! I’m just taking advantage of the chance to have you eliminate him! And don’t forget—if you fail, you won’t get the other half of the money.”

  The threat landed hard.

  “Alright. Alright. I’ll do my best.”

  Velk’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’d better.”

  ***

  Before the match even began, the commentator’s voice echoed across the arena, brimming with excitement.

  “Dear viewers! Up next is the match everyone has been waiting for—the crowd’s absolute favorite, the first-year student Toma! Just look around—blue wigs everywhere! And for those who still don’t have one, they’re available at the fan shops right next to the arena!”

  The commentator didn’t pause for long before continuing.

  “But let’s get straight to the point. Today’s opponent for Toma is the second-year student Victor. Victor wields a standard Nova-type ability, while Toma possesses the rare and powerful Blue Nova. And let’s not forget—this victory may matter more to Toma than ever before. He’s determined to reach the student council president and take revenge for what was done to his friend, Lyrien!”

  At that moment, both contestants stepped out of their locker rooms.

  The instant Toma entered the arena, the stands erupted.

  “Toma! Toma! Toma!”

  The chanting rolled like thunder.

  This time, however, there was no showmanship. No wave. No grin. Toma walked forward quietly, calmly, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression cold and focused.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Victor noticed it immediately.

  Something’s different…

  Both fighters took their positions.

  The bell rang.

  The match had begun.

  Victor struck first, launching bright Nova attacks in rapid succession, beams of light tearing through the air toward Toma.

  Toma responded by rising from the ground, lifting effortlessly into the air, and dodging the attacks with playful ease. Not a single hit landed.

  He remained perfectly calm, his face unreadable—serious in a way no one had seen before.

  The exchange dragged on for several seconds.

  Then Toma lost interest.

  In the next instant, he vanished from Victor’s sight.

  For a split second, it looked like teleportation.

  But it wasn’t.

  It was speed—overwhelming, terrifying speed.

  Before Victor could even react, Toma was already in front of him. A single punch followed, driven forward with all of Toma’s strength, aimed straight at Victor’s stomach.

  This wasn’t an ordinary strike.

  Blue Nova energy detonated at the moment of impact.

  Victor was hurled across the arena like a broken doll, crashing into the wall before collapsing to the ground, completely unconscious—no chance of standing again.

  Toma looked down at him, unimpressed.

  “Is that it?”

  A brief pause, his voice flat and cold.

  “Because that was really weak.”

  The referee immediately started the countdown.

  As it echoed through the arena, Toma slowly lifted his arm and pointed toward the stands—straight at the student council president.

  “You’re next,” he declared.

  “You’ll be the next one I knock out.”

  “The countdown is over!” the commentator roared.

  “The winner is the crowd’s favorite—Toma Sorien!”

  The arena exploded.

  Cheers, chants, blue wigs waving wildly through the air.

  Toma turned away without another glance, finally allowing a faint trace of emotion to surface as he headed back toward the locker room.

  The path forward was clear now.

  And the real fight was only just beginning.

  ***

  Meanwhile, high up in the stands, the student council president was seething.

  “That useless idiot Victor,” he snarled, fingers digging into the armrest. “I knew I couldn’t expect anything from a second-year if a first-year can knock him out that easily.”

  Beside him, the student council secretary hesitated for only a moment before speaking up, his tone calm but firm.

  “President, last year you were defeated by a first-year in the championship. And you yourself also won the tournament when you were a first-year.”

  The glare he shot him was venomous.

  “Shut up. I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he snapped. “Instead of running your mouth, focus on winning your match tomorrow against that Lysell kid.”

  He straightened slightly. “I’ll do everything I can.”

  Then, after a brief pause, he continued.

  “But you need to understand something. Your way of thinking has become completely distorted. That’s why things turned out like this. When you won the championship as a first-year, everyone celebrated you. Now… everyone hates you. They see you as a tyrant.”

  The president froze.

  “What did you just say?”

  He didn’t back down.

  “You represent completely different ideals now than you did when you were elected student council president. Different from when I joined the council myself. And the reason is simple—last year, you lost in the finals, and the crowd celebrated someone else instead of you.”

  His gaze drifted toward the roaring arena below.

  “And now it’s happening again. The audience is cheering for Toma Sorien. Not for you. But this is the result of your own behavior.”

  “No. No. No. No. No.” His voice rose sharply. “I need your lecturing less than anything right now. The only thing that matters is winning! If I win, the respect will come back!”

  He shook his head slowly.

  “I don’t see it that way. A student council president shouldn’t be an untouchable figure people fear. They should be someone who supports others. Someone people can trust.”

  “I don’t care about your opinion!” he shouted. “Shut up already and leave me alone!”

  He fell silent.

  ***

  Back in the locker room, the atmosphere was calmer—but tense in its own way.

  Toma stood near the bench, listening as Arvian spoke with a serious expression.

  “The semifinal is tomorrow,” Arvian reminded him. “No matter how angry you are at the student council president, he’s incredibly strong. This won’t be easy.”

  Toma nodded without hesitation. “I know that better than anyone.”

  Arlen stepped in next, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought aloud.

  “Basically, you’ll need to prepare for his strongest move—the flood. If you don’t have a way to deal with that, it’ll be bad.”

  Toma glanced between them.

  “Alright. Then give me something. Any ideas? I’m listening.”

  Arvian crossed his arms.

  “Use the full current, even underwater. If he floods the arena, blast that oversized puddle apart with high-powered Nova strikes.”

  Toma considered it for a moment, then nodded.

  “That’s pretty much what I was thinking too.”

  After that, silence settled over the locker room.

  Not the comfortable kind.

  Toma changed his clothes methodically, the sound of fabric and gear echoing faintly, while Arvian and Arlen stood off to the side without saying a word.

  When Toma bent down to tie his shoes, Arvian finally broke the silence.

  “Alright. Time to go.”

  Toma shook his head.

  “You guys go ahead. I’m going to check on Lyrien first.”

  Arvian frowned. “Why? She’s sleeping. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “It’s fine,” Toma replied quietly. “I’ll just be there for a few minutes.”

  Arvian opened his mouth to argue, but Arlen stepped in quickly, sensing the tension.

  “Alright. We’ll meet up later. Come on, Arvian, let’s go.”

  Arvian sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going.”

  As they headed for the door, Toma called after them.

  “See you.”

  Once they were gone, Toma slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the locker room, his thoughts already drifting toward the infirmary.

  Toward Lyrien.

  ***

  A knock echoed against the infirmary door.

  “Come in!” Kaine’s voice rang out from inside.

  The door opened, and Toma stepped in without ceremony.

  “It’s just me.”

  Kaine glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow lifting. “You again. At this rate, you’re becoming a regular guest here.”

  “Thanks for the warm welcome,” Toma shot back lightly, already moving forward. “I just came to see Lyrien.”

  Kaine folded her arms. “By the way, you knocked out that boy—Victor—pretty badly. He was lying here for over an hour. They only took him out recently.”

  “He was just weak,” Toma muttered, already heading for Lyrien’s room.

  When he stepped inside, the noise of the infirmary faded away. Lyrien lay on the bed, completely still, her breathing soft and steady, as if she were simply sleeping.

  Toma stopped at her bedside and let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

  “I’m sorry, Lyrien,” he whispered. “But you were incredible. One day, you’ll definitely surpass your cousin.”

  His hand clenched slowly at his side.

  “And tomorrow… I’ll end all of this. I’ll teach that asshole what respect really means.”

  The sharp sound of high heels echoed down the hallway. A moment later, Kaine appeared in the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned casually against the frame.

  “Relax. She’s doing much better,” she said calmly. “By tomorrow, she’ll probably be even stronger.”

  Toma nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Also,” Kaine added, pushing herself off the doorframe, “someone came looking for you today.”

  Toma turned. “For me? Who?”

  “The captain of the Water Division. She asked about the blue-haired boy.”

  Toma clicked his tongue, irritation flashing across his face. “Tch. Leave me alone. That damn woman. She just stood there while one of her own family members was almost killed.”

  Kaine tilted her head slightly. “All I’m saying is—don’t be so prejudiced. You don’t actually know what she wanted to say.”

  Toma exhaled slowly, then turned back toward the bed one last time.

  “…Yeah. Maybe.”

  Straightening up, he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

  “I should get going. Tomorrow’s going to be rough. Thanks for everything, Kaine.”

  ***

  By the time Toma finally headed home, night had already settled in.

  The streets were quiet as he walked beneath the open sky. Suddenly, a shooting star streaked across the darkness above.

  “Hm… what should I wish for?” A faint smile tugged at his lips.

  After a brief pause, the answer came easily.

  “Well. I already know exactly what I want.”

  Toma raised his left hand toward the sky and slowly clenched it into a fist.

  “Velk Vandemire,” he murmured, eyes burning with resolve, “tomorrow, I’ll catch you.”