The crowd still hadn't recovered from Professor Boros Kael's aura test. Some of the weaker students were still being carried out on stretchers, their eyes blank from the crushing weight of his killing intent.
We were down to 129. Too many for a clean tournament.
Another professor stepped forward, a tall woman clad in silver armor. Her sharp voice cut through the noise.
"Don't think you're safe yet. Before we begin the one-on-one battles, there is still one more filter. A true warrior isn't only defined by strength or courage. You must also be able to react—fast enough to survive."
She raised her hand. A massive rune circle bloomed above the arena. The sky shimmered.
Shhhkt—shhhkt—
Dozens of glowing spears appeared, suspended in the air like stars ready to fall. My stomach clenched.
"You have thirty seconds," she declared coldly. "Dodge. Block. Survive. Anyone who is struck is eliminated. If you can't last even half a minute… you are not worthy of Libra Academy."
And with that, she snapped her fingers.
The sky fell.
BOOOM!
Spears rained down in a relentless storm, crashing against the stone floor with thunderous cracks. The arena became chaos—students screamed, rolled, dashed, leapt for their lives.
A boy with wolf blood howled, his body expanding into half-beast form, claws deflecting the spears with desperate slashes. Sparks flew.
A girl in blue raised a shimmering water barrier, but it shattered after only three impacts, forcing her to sprint wildly.
I focused, breathing deeply. Void Sense—guide me.
The world slowed. My perception stretched wide. Every spear's path became a thread of light in my mind. I stepped between them, weaving through the storm, never wasting a movement.
One spear stabbed the ground inches from my foot. Another sliced past my cheek, leaving a faint sting. My heartbeat thundered, but I moved with precision, calm within the madness.
Beside me, Rex roared, punching spears aside with raw strength. His arms bled, but his eyes blazed with determination.
And then there was Denji.
He didn't even move. He stood there, arms folded, aura flaring just enough that every spear that fell near him shattered midair, disintegrating before it could touch him. It was effortless, terrifying.
Screams echoed as more students fell. Some were skewered in the shoulder, the leg, or the stomach—not killed, but eliminated instantly as professors rushed in to drag them away.
The thirty seconds stretched like eternity. My muscles ached, lungs burned, but I refused to stop moving.
Finally, the last spear struck the ground with a thunderous crack.
BOOM!
Silence fell.
I stood panting, chest heaving, sweat dripping. All around me, the survivors straightened slowly, their faces pale but burning with determination.
The professor scanned us with cold eyes. "Good. Those who remain… you are the eighty chosen. From this point forward, there will be no more easy trials. Every victory must be earned through combat."
A murmur swept through the crowd. Eighty.
That meant the next stage would be the true test.
One versus one.
Winner advances. Loser goes home.
I clenched my fists, my pulse hammering with excitement.
Finally… it begins.