The explosion tore through the training field.
Sophria’s Photosynthesis Beam collided with Liberia’s Burning Stone with such force that the entire arena seemed to shake.
BOOOOOOM!
Light swallowed fire.
Fire swallowed light.
The ground ruptured beneath them.
Chunks of dirt flew through the air as the grass blackened beneath the heat.
Trees surrounding the arena bent violently from the shockwave.
Students shielded their faces.
“What kind of attack was that?!” “I can’t even see them!” “Foshi-sensei!” Teacher Foshi remained standing, his eyes fixed on the center of the battlefield.
“Don’t move.” His voice was calm.
“But stay alert.” The storm slowly weakened.
The golden light disappeared.
The flames faded.
Smoke drifted across the ruined field.
Nobody spoke.
Then a figure became visible.
Sophria.
She was still standing.
Barely.
Across from her, Liberia lay unconscious on the ground.
Her clothes were scorched and covered in dust.
Her pride had suffered an even greater defeat than her body.
Foshi raised his hand.
“Winner…” The entire arena held its breath.
“Sophria Fruilder.” Silence.
Then the students erupted.
“She won!” “She actually defeated Liberia!” “She evolved during the fight!” “Level 2!” Sophria heard the voices faintly.
Her knees finally gave out.
She dropped to the ground.
She coughed, struggling to catch her breath.
Her entire body trembled from the strain.
Yet she smiled.
Not brightly.
Not triumphantly.
It was a quiet smile.
A smile earned through pain.
“I…” Her voice was barely audible.
“…did it.” She looked at her hands.
She had done it.
Not because she was famous.
Not because she was talented.
Not because someone expected her to win.
She had simply refused to stay down.
Maris approached.
He didn’t run.
He didn’t panic.
He simply walked toward her.
Sophria looked up.
Maris crouched beside her and gently brushed dirt from her cheek.
“You pushed too hard.” Sophria smiled weakly.
“But I won.” Maris nodded.
“Yeah.” He looked directly into her eyes.
“But don’t confuse winning with destroying yourself.” She blinked.
Maris stood.
“You proved what you needed to prove.” He paused.
“Don’t ever doubt yourself again.” Sophria stared at him.
Her exhaustion remained.
But something inside her had changed.
She thought, “I won’t.” — Next Matches The arena was repaired enough for the next matches to continue.
The defeated students were moved aside and given attention by the academy staff.
The atmosphere had changed.
Nobody was laughing anymore.
Everyone had realized something.
These weren’t ordinary classroom exercises.
Every student had something to prove.
And every battle could expose what they were truly capable of.
Foshi unfolded his scroll.
“Next match.” He looked toward the arena.
“Berlio Ovun versus Pomiel Avelin.” The two students stepped forward.
Berlio immediately raised his hand.
“Ice Art!” Ice spears formed around him.
They shot forward with ruthless precision.
SHING!
SHING!
SHING!
Pomiel didn’t retreat.
He charged directly through them.
The students stared.
“He’s insane!” Pomiel smashed one spear aside.
Then another.
Then another.
Berlio’s eyes widened.
“How are you still moving?!” Pomiel didn’t answer.
He simply kept advancing.
His fists struck the ground.
BOOM!
The battlefield cracked beneath the impact.
Berlio stumbled backward.
“Stay away!” More ice erupted.
Pomiel broke through it.
Berlio’s confidence disappeared.
“No…” Pomiel closed the distance.
One strike.
BOOM!
Berlio was sent crashing to the ground.
Foshi immediately raised his hand.
“Enough.” Pomiel stopped.
Foshi looked toward the fallen student.
“Winner—Pomiel Avelin.” Pomiel said nothing.
He simply turned and walked away.
Berlio remained on the cold ground, staring upward.
His hands trembled.
Not because he was defeated.
Because he had realized how completely his confidence had failed him.
— Fromprey Baric vs.
Applee Fru “Next match.” “Fromprey Baric versus Applee Fru.” Fromprey stepped into the arena.
Water gathered around his arms.
Applée calmly stretched her shoulders.
A student whispered, “She’s not even taking a stance.” Another replied, “Maybe she doesn’t need one.” Fromprey raised both hands.
“Water Art!” A tidal wave surged across the arena.
The students shouted.
“That’s huge!” Applée didn’t retreat.
She ran directly toward it.
“What?!” She jumped.
Her kick split through the incoming water.
She landed.
Then immediately advanced.
Every movement was precise.
Fromprey tried to maintain distance.
She kept closing it.
His eyes widened.
“How are you reading my movements?!” Applée said nothing.
She stepped inside his range.
One strike.
Then another.
Fromprey’s rhythm completely collapsed.
Finally— CRACK!
A powerful kick sent him falling backward.
Foshi raised his hand.
“Winner—Applée Fru.” Applée simply walked away.
No smile.
No celebration.
No insult.
She had come to win.
Nothing else.
— Melio Berrum vs.
Berriolis Guai The crowd became noticeably quieter.
Melio entered the arena.
Flames surrounded his fists.
But unlike before, the fire wasn’t wild.
It moved with him.
Controlled.
Precise.
Dangerous.
Berriolis charged.
“You’re not intimidating me!” His fists thundered forward.
Melio dodged.
Left.
Right.
One step backward.
Another forward.
His movements were economical.
Berriolis swung again.
Melio slipped past it.
He waited.
One opening.
That’s all he needed.
His fist ignited.
BOOM!
The strike landed squarely.
Berriolis was thrown backward and collapsed unconscious.
Foshi immediately intervened.
“Winner—Melio Berrum.” The flames around Melio disappeared.
He looked toward his defeated opponent for a moment.
Then turned away.
Maris watched from the sidelines.
He thought, “Level 2 Fire…” His eyes narrowed.
“But this isn’t just power.” He looked at Melio’s controlled flames.
“It’s rage…” A faint smile appeared.
“…chained by discipline.” Melio glanced toward him.
Maris nodded.
Melio understood.
Neither said anything.
They didn’t need to.
— The Final Match Time passed.
The training field had become a collection of broken ground, damaged trees, exhausted students, and defeated pride.
Every match had taught something.
Strength alone wasn’t enough.
Speed wasn’t enough.
Talent wasn’t enough.
What mattered was what happened when everything went wrong.
Foshi looked down at his scroll.
Then raised his head.
“Final match.” The remaining students became silent.
“Maris Fruing…” Maris opened his eyes.
“…versus Pinezoku Avaris.” Whispers spread immediately.
“Finally.” “Maris?” “After what he did yesterday…” “This should be interesting.” Pinezoku stepped forward.
He cracked his neck.
His earlier embarrassment had disappeared.
A smirk returned to his face.
“So it comes to this.” He looked directly at Maris.
“I’ll enjoy breaking you.” Maris stood.
He didn’t react.
No anger.
No fear.
No excitement.
He simply walked into the arena.
Pinezoku frowned.
“That’s it?” Maris stopped several meters away.
“We’re not the same anymore, Pinezoku.” Pinezoku’s smile faded slightly.
Maris continued.
“You’re still trying to prove yourself.” He looked into Pinezoku’s eyes.
“I’ve already stopped caring.” A few students exchanged glances.
“What does that even mean?” “He’s acting different.” Melio watched silently.
He thought, “Something’s wrong.” Maris slowly raised two fingers toward his forehead.
The wind changed.
At first, it was barely noticeable.
A gentle breeze.
Then— the air began circling him.
Dust rose from the ground.
His reddish-yellow gradient hair moved with the growing current.
The wind spiraled faster.
Faster.
Faster.
The atmosphere itself seemed to tighten.
One student instinctively stepped backward.
“Did you feel that?” Another swallowed.
“Yeah.” “What is it?” “I don’t know.” Even Foshi’s expression changed.
His eyes narrowed.
“Maris…” The pressure increased.
Leaves were pulled into the air.
Loose stones began sliding across the arena.
The sky above seemed darker.
Melio’s expression became serious.
“What…” He stared at Maris.
“…what is that?” Lyberia, still recovering from her previous battle, looked toward the arena.
Her eyes widened.
“No way.” She whispered, “That’s not normal wind.” Sophria watched from the sidelines.
Her expression became tense.
“Maris…” Lyberia slowly stood.
“That feels like…” She swallowed.
“…a forbidden art.” Pinezoku’s confident expression finally disappeared.
He took one involuntary step backward.
“What did you just awaken…” Maris looked at him.
For the first time since entering the arena— he smiled.
Not warmly.
Not proudly.
Just a sharp, unsettling grin.
“Don’t worry.” The wind around him roared.
“You’ll feel it soon.” Pinezoku clenched his fists.
The entire arena went silent.
And somewhere beneath the academy…
something ancient seemed to stir.