Chapter 15: Children of Ribea
The grand arena of Daveron thrummed with the raw pulse of life and death.
Fifteen superhumans stood upon the blood-stained stage, young prodigies, seasoned disciples, and hidden talents from across Fortsterling. Their auras clashed in a storm of color: crimson flame, silver blade-light, violet dream-mist, and the deep black of void aura. The crowd leaned forward, breath held, as the drums of judgment boomed once more.
Then the twins of Ribea City moved.
They were flawless.
Garuda struck first, dual blades flashing like twin serpents, each swing perfectly mirrored by his brother Bobaros a heartbeat later. Linked minds granted them perfect sync; one thought became two bodies. Where Garuda's wild slashes opened a gap, Bobaros's calm, unforgiving flow sealed it with lethal precision. Disciples fell screaming. Children of noble houses crumpled, throats opened, hearts pierced. Blood painted the black marble in vivid arcs.
In less than thirty breaths the stage was cleared.
Fifteen lives extinguished without mercy.
Families in the stands watched their children and prized disciples die like insects beneath a boot. Mothers clutched their chests, fathers gripped railings until knuckles bled. Devastation carved deep lines into every face.
"How could they be so wicked?" someone whispered.
The families cursed beneath their breath, vile oaths, promises of vengeance, but no one dared raise a hand. The mighty men seated above the arena, the vice-principals of the four great demon academies, watched with indifferent eyes.
"To challenge them was to invite annihilation."
An old cultivator in the front row shook his head, voice carrying across the stunned silence.
"The children of Ribea… the ones rumored to be born with linked minds, granting them perfect sync in battle. But that is not what makes them special." He paused, letting the weight settle. "These two were born with the hearts of demons. They did not even spare their own mother, who carried them for fifteen long years in her belly, devouring her from within on the day of their birth."
A horrified hush fell over the entire plaza. Thousands stared at the two figures now walking calmly toward the edge of the stage looking towards the vice principals.
Garuda, the elder twin, moved with arrogant swagger. Spiked black hair framed a wild, grinning face. One hand rested lazily behind his head, the other swinging a pair of curved blades still dripping fresh blood. His aura boiled like an untamed inferno.
Beside him walked Bobaros, calm as a frozen ocean. Hair neatly cut, expression ice-cold, eyes containing not a single atom of warmth. His movements were fluid, almost gentle, yet each step carried the promise of absolute, unforgiving death.
Dabara, vice-principal of Devil blade Academy, leaned forward in his high seat, eyes gleaming with open joy.
"These two… they perfectly fit my battle style," he laughed. "That one's violent movement with dual blades, and that one's gentle yet unforgiving flow. Truly demonic. I have my eyes on those two."
He stared down the other vice-principals, daring them to object.
The vice-principal from Twilight Academy spoke first, voice cool and measured.
"Those two may be talented, but they will be difficult to control. We of Twilight Academy do not want them."
"Same here," Lord Alvin added, glancing at the twins one final time before looking away in clear dismissal.
The Vabun of Celestial Demon Academy remained silent, eyes closed, offering no opinion.
Dabara threw his head back and laughed, loud, triumphant, unrestrained.
"Haha! So be it, boys. You're coming with me."
The twins bowed deeply in perfect unison, then stepped off the stage without another word. The crowd parted before them like water before a shark.
The next round approached swiftly.
Fifteen new participants for Batch B ascended the blood-slick stage. At the very center stood Abandon, eyes glowing with that eerie pinkish light, posture relaxed yet radiating unshakable confidence.
"If it isn't the famous prodigy of the Eye Family."
A feminine voice drifted from behind him, light and mocking. The girl walked forward without hesitation, ignoring the wild, hungry gazes of every other contestant. Her robes fluttered in an invisible wind; long silver hair danced around her shoulders.
"Boom… Boom… Boom…"
The judgment drums thundered.
Abandon moved like a wild beast, explosive, feral, charging straight at her.
"His speed is comparable to a Rank 3 beast," the girl noted calmly, unfurling two ornate fans made entirely of pure, razor-sharp blades. Abadon unleashed a barrage of jabs, each one blurring with pink demonic aura. She danced between them, deflecting unavoidable strikes with the flat of her fans.
With a swift flick of her wrist she slashed a fan toward his face.
Abadon's body split cleanly in half, shocked expression frozen on the severed upper half.
"That was surprisingly easy," she murmured, lowering her fans.
But the corpse dissolved into pink mist.
The real Abadon burst from her left flank, blade gleaming.
She spun, unleashing a whirlwind of blade intent from her fans, decapitating him again.
"This is not right… I have killed him twice. This can't be real." Realization dawned. "I have been caught in his illusion."
The true Abadon appeared from thin air, spear in hand.
"Smart girl!"
He slammed the side of the spear into her ribs. But She was relentless using the force from the attack to spin, gathering a violent gust of wind that carried her in a full circle around the stage.
"He has a deep understanding of illusionary arts," Vice-Principal Alvin observed quietly, watching Abadon manipulate the entire fighting ring like a a true genius.
Before the girl's eyes, dozens of Abadons now filled the stage.
"Oh, Demon of Wind… grant this one your blessings upon this blade!"
The Vabun of the Celestial Demon Academy opened his eyes and smiled for the first time.
"She is a natural born."
She absorbed the air itself from around her, creating a vacuum that left Abadon dizzy for a precious few seconds.
"Fuck this bitch is not easy," he snarled.
"Tell me, girl, what is your name?"
The illusions shattered.
Real corpses of the other contestants littered the stage, victims of Abadon's mind-bending technique that had made every opponent appear as him.
"Let me guess," she replied mockingly, "you want to know the name of the one who will claim your life?"
Abadon remained unmoved, expression cold.
"Fine. Don't tell me. I will get it from the names of the deceased today."
The girl smiled, dark, confident.
A heavy, oppressive gust of wind swirled around her, thick with killing intent.
"I would like to see you try."