Murmurs shifted the moment his name echoed across the colosseum.
"Kalen Voss, Elite Class".
They didn't roar.
Instead they leaned forward.
Not in anticipation, but curiosity.
Maybe even judgement.
"Isn't that the stain on the Voss family?"
"Yeah he's the brother of Elyra right?"
"Elyra? He must be good then!"
"She's so cool! I seen her video the other day...."
He stepped out slowly.
Head down. Hands loose at his sides.
Breath slow....
too slow.
"Is he alright?" someone muttered.
He didn't glance at the crowd.
Even if he did there'd be nobody of importance there.
He knew.
His father hadn't shown up.
Not yet.
Maybe he wouldn't.
'You're not good enough to represent me.'
'You never were.'
Those words lived in him. Louder than any crowd.
Day by day knocking against his exterior.
"And here comes the prodigy of the Voss lineage. Known for gravity-based ki and ruthless discipline...What will the gauntlet do against someone who controls weight itself?!"
Tap tap tap
He swayed to the platform.
Groggy movements.
Not squaring his shoulders.
The countdown rang.
3...2...1 -
He walked like a man being sentenced. No engagement apparent.
The moment he stepped inside the gauntlet...
CRASHHH!!!
The arena reacted violently.
Terrain collapsed inward, slabs of stone folding unnaturally, pulled by a force they coudln't escape.
"And just like that... the field's reacting. A massive gravitational shift. Is that even part of the rotation?!"
Ayling yelled, moustache wiggling.
The spike traps were flattened before they triggered.
BINGG!!
The summoned beasts cracked under their own weight. Crashing downwards as their bodies shattered like glass.
CRACKK!!
Rising towards buckled mid-ascent.
Compressing into jagged slabs of metal.
...It was a display of pure dominance.
It wasn't the gauntlet.
He was crushing everything in his path.
The crowd surged to their feet.
"Oh my god," someone muttered.
The platform beneath him tried to shift.
It failed.
He raised one hand; the entire stretch folded, crushed into a ramp leading straight to the exit.
He didn't run the entire time.
It was a walk of will.
Pure destruction in his wake.
Expression hollow.
Time Left : 02:30
Completion Time : 30 seconds.
"....Thirty. Seconds."
Ayling said, stunned.
Pause.
"Ladies and gentlemen, that's not the fastest run of the day..."
He took a breath.
"That's one of the fastest gauntlet runs in history! Kalen Voss has set the bar here today!"
There was no fist bump.
No look to the stands.
No reaction at all.
He stepped off like nothing happened.
Expression hollow.
The quiet behind him...was louder than any applause.
Jacob was in the waiting room.
His arms, folded.
Expression unreadable.
A student loudly uttered.
"Thirty seconds...he's a monster."
Jacob just looked, expression unreadable.
Seris stood near the back of the waiting room, arms loosely crossed.
Her expression didn't shift seeing the shocking time.
'He's still chasing something'.
"Next: Caelun Redd. Elite Class"
"Who?" someone muttered.
The tension rose slightly.
Not because of prestige, but because of curiosity.
Tap tap tap
He walked out with his usual quiet steps. Eyes low.
The moment he stepped inside, the gauntlet responded.
A sharp surge - lightning without sound.
The terrain seemed to destabilise for a second, as if re calibrating something it couldn't quiet classify.
He moved.
One step.
Then another.
The terrain stuttered.
Just for a second. As if the system glitched.
And then -
A sudden pulse.
BOOM!
A wide burst of force exploded outward from where he stood.
Not loud or dramatic.
Precise.
Several sections of the path reconstructed themselves, rerouting around the damage.
He walked forward, calm.
He walked to the finish.
Time: 50 seconds.
"What the hell was that...?"
It was surprising, given his appearance.
He walked easily through it all.
Not with the same dominance as Kalen.
Something more controlled.
Before they could dwell on it.
"Izan Thorne."
The next name was called.
Quiet. Broad.
He stepped in without flair.
Conjuring a heavy, force-based barrier around himself.
He bulldozed through everything.
Simple.
No dodging.
Time: 59 seconds.
"Rowen Delca"
A flicker.
One moment he was there.
The next - gone.
Spectral wisps moved across the field.
The terrain growing darker, colder, slower.
The beasts didn't even react to him
He didn't need to fight.
TIme : 1 minute, 10 seconds.
Someone shivered.
It continued.
"Mira Dask"
Short. Small. Calm.
She entered simply.
She walked through the terrain as it shifted wildly, summoning beasts.
She hadn't needed to use her magic.
The beasts simply didn't see her.
Or they were made not to...
Time: 1 minute, 2 seconds.
"Naeva Solene."
Sharp. Refined.
She conjured complex waves of spirit binding threads.
Each controlling a construct or redirecting platforms in her favour.
A technical mastery.
Time: 55 seconds.
Fayl was next.
He entered with a grin, used sharp split-second movements to bounce off moving structures.
Manipulating bursts of elemental magic, as he weaved through beasts using his sword.
A display of beautiful magical swordsmanship.
Although Selle wouldn't admit that.
"He's not graceful, but damn he's fast"
Someone muttered.
Time: 57 seconds.
"Selle Varn"
Elegant and tactical.
Her style was efficient.
Usage of magic to redirect attention.
Exploiting small openings no-one could see in the structure.
She had a sharp eye.
And a good time.
Time: 54 seconds.
"Seris Halden."
She left the waiting room.
Glancing back at Jacob, who sat leisurely.
He gave her a thumbs up, a toothy grin.
She smiled.
Stepping out with her chin high, her motion was measured.
The gauntlet adjusting. A sequence of structured terrain.
Ranged threats. Precision triggers.
It was a thinking test.
She passed it with flying colours.
One step, a flick of her hand. A glyph unravelled.
Another, he protected herself, sliding away from the ranged threats.
Each spell cast was exactly enough.
A protection spell.
A speed spell,
Nothing wasted or showmanship.
Reaching the end, as if it was a memorised pattern.
Time: 1 minute, 1 second.
Polite applause ripped through the arena.
"Efficient", one muttered.
"Everything by the book. The Halden method..."
-------
One by one, the Elite had gone forward. Showcasing a small amount of their arsenal.
Only one name remained.
The whole process was random.
For him to come last...
The arena dimmed.
A low vibration pulsed beneath the stands.
Then silence.
And then -
"Contestant...ah, the one you're all here for", Ayling chuckled.
A wave of murmurs erupted.
Cameras pivoting, and pictures at the ready.
Ones who already completed their gauntlet was in a different room.
Filled with water, food and such.
A cool off.
This was about to get most of them going...
Watching from the stands, even some nobles stood.
One of them being Princess Saphira Elyndor.
"You've seen the headlines."
"You've heard the name."
A pause. Held just long enough.
"Jacob Lacura...."