🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋✦ AetherBorne: The Archivus Legacy ✦🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋 Round 4.
Team Horse (2) – Shawn Lee
Team Dragon (1) – Ryuji Archivus
My name was already lighting up on the board when the realization landed like a stone in my chest.
If it had been Shawn Lee alone, this would've been an easy win. His Taichi-based Aether was flashy but predictable. He relied on flow and redirection—but that didn't mean much if I didn't let him touch me.
But that wasn't the problem.
The real issue was Round 5.
Ayaka Fujimori vs. Ibrahim Zayed.
Zayed—the mysterious Egyptian sophomore who'd already made a name for himself last year. The same guy who took down a senior from Sol's team during the semifinals and nearly made it to the finals.
He wasn't just strong—he was dangerous.
We couldn't afford to lose Round 5.
I moved quickly toward Instructor Kim, holding my hand up. The one I used earlier to absorb Sol's flame into my Codex Nexus? Burned. Not badly—but it gave me what I needed.
"Instructor," I said, wincing slightly, "I think I need to head to the infirmary—my hand's burned. I don't think I can grip the training weapon properly."
Instructor Kim's brow furrowed. He scanned my hand. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"
"Just realized it," I lied. "The adrenaline masked the pain earlier. I didn't want to slow the team down."
He paused, then looked up toward Principal Voltaire. The principal gave a slight nod from his seat—barely a twitch of approval, but enough.
Instructor Kim turned to the announcer and relayed the decision.
As I stepped away, I locked eyes with Ms. Fujimori—Ayaka.
She nodded once.
We'd already talked before Haru's match. Quietly, discreetly. I told her what I saw: that if we followed Claire's plan to the letter, we'd lose.
She didn't say anything back then—but now, I saw it in her expression.
She understood. She agreed.
"There's a change in the lineup!" the announcer's voice rang out through the gym.
"Representing Team Dragon for Match 4… Freshman, Ayaka Fujimori!"
The crowd erupted. Cheers. Gasps. Whispers.
A freshman stepping up in a do-or-die situation?
Now that stirred the room.
Instructor Kim guided me toward the infirmary, his steps heavy.
"Sit there," he said, gesturing to the cushioned bench. "Nurse Sue will be with you shortly—she's still helping Camila."
I sat down, watching as Nurse Sue carefully assisted Camila onto the cot. Her movements were slow, dramatic. Like every step was agony.
I narrowed my eyes, hiding a smirk.
"Clearly playing the victim," I muttered under my breath.
Not that anyone could hear.
But I'd seen it.
And maybe, I felt it too.
Right before Sol lost control, right before that scorching tempest of flame surged through the arena—a rock was thrown upward and had begun forming. A faint shimmer in the air. Hidden by the brilliance of the fire.
Everyone else was mesmerized by the flames.
But me? I was watching what was being concealed.
I knew Camila what she was doing.
And so did Sol.
"YAAAHHH!" FUJIMORI
The roar of the crowd outside the infirmary grew louder, spilling in like crashing waves.
Haru's words echoed in my mind.
"Fujimori's Aether ability—the Flaming Bloomed Blossom."
A strange name for such a volatile power. I remembered telling him, "She can't use that in the Aether Clash. It's way too dangerous."
Haru agreed. "Yeah… but that's not her ace in the sleeve."
He told me about last Saturday. After class, Ms. Fujimori reached out to him—not to talk, but to train.
"She invited me to spar with her," Haru said, back when we were on the roof.
"Why you?" I asked.
"Regeneration," he replied simply.
I couldn't believe it. "So she used you like a guinea pig? Testing her exploding petals?"
Haru shook his head. "At first, yeah. But it turned into something else. She didn't just throw petals around—she fought like a martial artist. Fast. Fluid. She used the explosion of petals to propel herself, to mask her movements with the smoke. It was like fighting a cat armed with a stick."
That stuck with me.
"If it comes down to martial vs. martial," Haru had said, "she'll win."
I was snapped back to the present by a soft, cooling sensation across my hand.
Nurse Sue was tending to my burn, applying an oil infused with a mild healing Aether. The sting faded instantly, the wound already vanishing beneath her touch.
"Stay put, okay?" she said, her voice gentle. "I'm going to grab more supplies from the stockroom."
I nodded.
Then the door creaked behind me.
Camila.
I didn't even have to turn around.
"How's Flame Boy?" she asked, her tone casual, but her footsteps slow and deliberate as she entered the room.
"Still standing," I replied without looking. "Though it's hard to shake what you did."
"Oh?" she said, stepping closer. "So you did notice."
"I did," I said quietly, still staring ahead. "And as for keeping quiet about it—think of that meteor you tried to summon as… payment."
She chuckled. "You're protecting your enemy now? After all the bullying he gave you over the years?"
I stood up, spotting a box of wipes near the corner. Grabbing one, I wiped the rest of the healing oil from my hand.
"You call it bullying," I said, "but I call it training."
She raised an eyebrow.
I stepped past her and paused at the door.
"I was just teaching him how to punch."
And with that, I walked out.
As I stepped out onto the arena floor, the crowd roared. The announcer's voice echoed through the gym.
"Winner, Team Dragon—Ayaka Fujimori!"
Ayaka looked toward me from across the field, her quiet confidence unwavering. I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.
Now… it was my turn.
I made my way back to the team bench and summoned my Codex Nexus, flipping through pages in my mind—cataloging the thousands of training weapons I had bookmarked. Haru approached me.
"Good luck out there," he said. "Be careful. You know Zayed."
I nodded. "I'll handle it."
Ms. Fujimori reached out and shook my hand. A rare moment.
Then Claire looked up from the bench, her eyes meeting mine.
"...Sorry," she whispered. "Please win."
That word hit differently. Sorry? From Claire?
I just smiled. "Don't worry. I got this."
I stepped onto the arena floor. The announcer's voice boomed again.
"Representing Team Dragon—Ryuji Archivus!"
The crowd stirred with excitement.
"And representing Team Horse— "The Sandstorm Slayer" Ibrahim Zayed!"
The cheers doubled. Zayed had a reputation—one of last year's Top 3 Aether Clash finalists. Everyone knew him.
The moment his Aether flared, the ground shifted. Golden sand poured from his palms, flooding the field like a living desert. I could feel it already—zoning. Just like Sol's flames, Zayed could turn the terrain to his favor.
The sand gripped my feet halfway toward centerfield.
The announcer shouted, "Begin!"
Zayed dashed toward me, surfing the sand like a wave, and from mid-slide, cracked a whip of sand-forged training steel.
Crack! The sound tore through the arena. I summoned my training shield, letting it absorb the hits as I analyzed his rhythm.
He kept the pressure on, launching a barrage. But I held firm, my shield reacting, redirecting each strike.
Then I breathed in—Tempestus Zone: activate.
A surge of Aether expanded from within me, forcefully pushing back the sand in a 30-meter radius.
That was enough. My feet were free.
He tried to invade again, but I was already countering.
Spear Cannon x10. I hurled the projectile—piercing through the sand shield—but he evaded, using a cloud of sand to obscure his position.
Suddenly—a sand fist rose from the arena floor, wielding a massive sword and bringing it down like a guillotine.
Zap—Tempestus Lumens. I switched positions with a shattered spear behind Zayed, reducing his whip's effectiveness.
He was open. I went for a training spear thrust— BAM! But a sand wall surged up, absorbing the blow.
Explosion. Dust everywhere.
I used the blast momentum to switch my weapon—summoning a training axe in my left hand, spinning into a 360° strike.
He didn't expect the attack to come from the side.
But again, sand punch. His terrain responded like muscle memory. My shield took the brunt of it—Blam!—and I skidded back.
I glanced toward the judges. Illegal move? No reaction.
Claire stood up from the bench and shouted, but no one acknowledged her.
Zayed stood tall in the storm of sand, completely unshaken.
He was waiting for me to make a mistake.
But I wasn't Sol.
I whispered under my breath, "Watch this, Sol. This is what all that training with you was for."
Tempestus Zone—100 meters.
The full force of my Aether surged outward. My arena now.
I summoned dual axes, flipped into a berserker stance. As the sand arms formed again, I vanished.
Zap—Tempestus Lumens. Switched with a blade next to Zayed.
"One leap," I whispered.
I charged. Raised my axe. Aimed straight for his—
Blam! Another sand shield. He was fast.
So I improvised. Threw my axe high. Zap—side strike.
He countered again—sand punch. But this time, it hit another training axe, not me.
I blinked into the air—Tempestus Lumens—and with the momentum, slammed a downward slash.
Aether drain. Hit confirmed.
But he wasn't done yet.
As my slash connected, I felt the sand beneath me shift violently—a retaliatory punch surged toward my blind side, a massive fist of compacted sand, aimed to counterstrike before I could recover.
But I was already thinking ahead.
Zap—Tempestus Lumens.
I teleported to the axe I had thrown earlier, the one lodged near the impact zone of the last sand punch. The moment I arrived, the sand fist crashed down where I'd been a heartbeat ago, missing me by inches.
A clean escape.
I now had clear distance again—space to breathe, to think, to counter.
Zayed didn't waste a second. The moment he lost line of sight, the entire field began to churn.
A sandstorm burst around him, swirling like a living wall. From within that twister of dust, I heard the hiss and crack of movement—
Whip barrage.
My shield flickered as I deflected two of them blindly, but my visibility was shot. He was hiding himself inside the whirlwinds.
I couldn't rely on sight now. So I used instinct.
Then—clang. One whip struck a discarded blade on the field.
Gotcha.
He's hiding near the fifth whirlwind column—exactly where I'd predicted. I'd left the blades there on purpose, waiting for him to give himself away.
Spear Cannon x10—fire.
Ten glowing spears rained down in rapid succession, cutting into the dust wall like missiles.
Aether loss.
Confirmed.
Zayed had been hit. The sand armor surrounding him faltered—fractures spreading like cracks in glass.
I felt the trap closing in.
From the swirling sands, dozens of arms erupted, each wielding a training blade, circling me like the jaws of a beast. They didn't come one at a time—they came all at once.
A full ring of blades. No way out.
But I didn't need one.
My hand snapped to my side.
Tempestus draw—Whirlwind Slash.
A single breath.
A single motion.
One clean, decisive strike.
The nodachi left its sheath with a blinding flash, trailing arcs of condensed Aether in its wake. My body spun with it—a perfect, fluid rotation. Wind whipped around me, catching the sand and lifting it in a spiral. The blade didn't slice through the arms.
It erased them.
One by one, they disintegrated mid-motion, training blades turning to dust, their forms collapsing before they ever reached me.
The last one raised its sword—and never brought it down.
The wind cleared. I stood alone.
Around me, only silence and fallen fragments remained, as if the battlefield had blinked and missed the moment everything ended.
AetherCriticallyLowAether Critically LowAetherCriticallyLow
The warning pulsed on my watch, but I barely noticed. My heartbeat was still echoing in my ears, matching the rhythm of the blade that now rested at my side.
Then—
"Winner—Ryuji Archivus!"
Team Dragon advances to the Top 3.
The crowd exploded in cheers, echoing through the gymnasium like thunder.
Voices rang from the bleachers, and among them—
"Taxi! Taxi! Taxi!"
I blinked, surprised.
Was that... me?
I looked toward my team.
Sol stood from the bench, clenching his fist, his face unreadable beneath the shadow of his towel.
Claire flashed me a thumbs-up—surprising in itself—while Haru and Fujimori were practically jumping up and down like children at a festival.
Then it hit me.
Not a realization, but a presence.
A suffocating, oppressive bloodlust crept up behind me, crawling along my spine like ice.
I turned, my body reacting faster than my thoughts.
My training nodachi shimmered into existence, aether condensing around the blade with instinctive force. My stance locked, ready to strike—
A shadow towered over me.
Just like the King Beetle.
Was this trauma?
No.
It was something worse.
Then, the pressure shifted.
The killing intent dispersed, like fog burned away by sunlight.
A calm, composed voice followed.
"You're really Genzo's grandson."
It was Principal Voltaire.
He walked past me, hands behind his back, his expression relaxed—yet his presence still sent shivers through the arena.
"Sheath that sword, boy," he added with a knowing smirk. "That won't be enough to beat me."
His words hit like a strike of lightning.
Not mocking.
Not cruel.
A challenge.
I lowered the blade, bowing slightly.
"Sorry, sir. I didn't realize... And yes, I am Genzo's grandchild."
He nodded once, then chuckled.
"Good. Keep training. I want to see the legacy of the Archivus family burn bright again."
And just like that, he left—his coat fluttering, his voice still echoing in my chest.
As he disappeared, I noticed three intense gazes trained on me.
Alexander. Minato. Sol.
They said nothing. But their eyes said enough.
I turned away and left the arena.
Haru and Ms. Fujimori greeted me outside.
"Where's Sol? Claire?" I asked.
"They left already," Haru replied, rubbing the back of his head.
Then, grinning wide, he nudged my shoulder.
"Ryuji, I didn't know you could fight like that! You could've saved yourself from three years of bullying!"
I shrugged.
"I just didn't want to complicate my life with expectations."
He laughed hard. Ms. Fujimori giggled behind her hand.
And just like that, Day 3 ended.
We spent the rest of it in the library, as usual—reading, sleeping, and avoiding unnecessary attention.
🌟 Aether Clash — Day 3 Recap
đź“… Quarterfinals Summary
⚔️ Match 7 — Quarterfinal 1
🏆 Winner: Team Rat (3–1)
🆚 Opponent: Team Rabbit
🔹 Team Rat Lineup:
Minato Kurogane — Aether Chain Manipulation
Elena Vosk — Freeze Touch
Isaac Delgado— Time Step
Lee Jaewon — Shadow Play
Blake Carson — Iron Willed
⚔️ Match 8 — Quarterfinal 2
🏆 Winner: Team Dragon (3–2)
🆚 Opponent: Team Horse
🔸 Team Dragon Lineup:
Claire Everhart — Angelic Armor
Solomon Salamander — Flame Channeling
Ayaka Fujimori — Flame of the Sacred Bloom
Haru Fenris — Dire Wolf Transformation
Ryuji Archivus — Codex Nexus / Teleportation
⚔️ Match 9 — Quarterfinal 3
🏆 Winner: Team Snake (3–0)
🆚 Opponent: Team Pig
🔹 Team Snake Lineup:
Lyra Chavez — Queen Bee
Kenji Ryou — Mothman
Seraphine Wu — Venom Mirage
Daisuke Tan — Spiderman
Tasha Kin — Snake Fang Strike (Whip)