The combat dome buzzed with early energy. Students poured into the upper rows, chattering over matchups, betting snacks on outcomes, and scrolling schedules on glowing panels.
Levi jogged a few steps ahead of the group, eyes scanning the updated fight board. "First Match of the day," he called over his shoulder. "Cyrhelle Elsinora versus... Riven Ortega?"
He turned to the others, lowering his voice with a teasing grin.
"Hey, Kael. Your bookworm friend's opening the day. Guess she's more than just quiet company and cat hair."
Kael didn't respond — just kept walking beside him.
Levi smirked at the silence. "Mysterious. I like it."
David smiled faintly. "PaintScape. That's her Desyre Core. She sketches spells on the fly — turns raw emotion into magic."
Levi blinked. "Wait... she draws her powers?"
More like she casts them," David clarified. "Creatures, barriers, weapons — all pulled from the page."
"Damn," Levi muttered, raising his brows. "So she's shy, artistic, and possibly terrifying."
Levi nudged Kael with his elbow. "Didn't know you had a type, man. She's got quiet energy... like you. she even kind of looks like you."
Charlotte, who had been trailing behind, gave Levi a look — unreadable, but colder than usual.
"You done narrating Kael's love life?"
Levi laughed, nudging Kael lightly. "What? I'm just pointing out the chemistry. He goes silent, she goes softer. The cat follows him like a bodyguard."
Charlotte folded her arms. "Can you focus on the fight?"
Levi raised his hands, mock-innocent. "Just making an observation. No crime in noticing sparks"
Kael didn't react, but his eyes flicked toward the arena platform below
They reached their seats just as the light began to power up over the hexagonal arena
David leaned forward. "That's Riven Ortega she's facing. Iron Pulse Core. Basically walks in gauntlets and earthquakes."
Levi gave a low whistle. "Shockwave fist versus emotion-fueled ink? Alright... this'll be one for the books."
The lights above dimmed. A spotlight snapped onto the platform.
On the far end, Riven Ortega stepped in, cracking his neck. His arms were already armored with metallic gauntlets, dull-red lines pulsing faintly at the joints.
He bounced once on the platform and the vibration was enough to rattle dust from the corner beams.
"That's aura right there," Levi muttered.
Across from him, Cyrhelle stepped in quietly. No armor. Just her charcoal spellbook in one hand, a bandolier of ink vials across her waist. Her long black hair was tied loosely, and her cat — against all logic — sat calmly near the edge of the arena wall, unbothered.
She looked up at the crowd and her eyes found Kael. Just for a second.
He gave a small nod.
She nodded back.
"She doesn't look nervous," Charlotte said.
"She's probably thinking," Kael said, watching Cyrhelle from the upper gallery. "That's how she fights."
Levi leaned on the railing beside him. "Well, she better think fast. That guy looks like he thinks in muscle."
Down below, the arena lights flared to life — harsh and bright, flooding the hexagonal platform with a sharp white glow. Cheers rumbled through the viewing decks as both students stepped onto the ring.
Cyrhelle stood still, calm, her sketchbook clutched to her chest.
Riven Ortega, all muscle and impatience, rolled his shoulders, gauntlets humming faintly with pressure.
Across from them, Instructor Kaedin strode to the ring's edge, voice amplified through the arena.
"Reminder: This is a full Desyre evaluation.
Victory conditions are clear: – Verbal surrender,
– Stepping out of bounds,
– Or incapacitation, judged by the instructor.
Instructors will intervene if a match becomes too dangerous.
Medical support is on-site — Operative Liane Ross, Class-S Global Healer, will treat all injuries."
A low murmur passed through the audience. Liane Ross was famous — a top-tier support class WAA Ascender, rarely seen outside official missions. The presence of someone like her meant they weren't taking risks.
The buzzer rang once.
"Ready"
Cyrhelle opened her sketchbook, calmly flipping to a blank page.
Riven stepped forward, fists already glowing with pulsing Desyre energy.
Kael narrowed his eyes. Levi muttered, "Here we go."
The second buzzer sounded.
"Elsinora. Ortega. Begin."
Riven moved first.
He charged, fists glowing orange-red with pressure pulses. His gauntlets cracked the stone floor as he dashed, each step building momentum like a train.
Cyrhelle didn't move.
She dropped to one knee, marker already in hand — sketching.
A glowing dove spread from her sketchpad, formed midair, and shot forward like a flare. Riven punched it cleanly — and the moment of impact exploded into a shock of blinding light, slowing him down.
Cyrhelle shifted — drawing again. This time a barrier, just tall enough to make him jump.
Riven growled, vaulted over—
Too late.
A wolf made of smoky blue lines slammed him midair, dragging him sideways into the arena wall.
The crowd gasped.
He hit hard. But he laughed.
"That's all you got, Elsinora?"
He punched the ground.
BOOM.
A shockwave rippled out like a bomb, forcing Cyrhelle to roll away as tiles shattered behind her. Her hand scraped across stone — bleeding.
Kael leaned forward in his seat.
"That wasn't just strength," he muttered. "He's building pressure and detonating it on contact. That's Iron Pulse."
Levi whistled. "Like fighting a walking landmine."
Riven didn't give her time to recover.
Another blast. Another punch. The air itself shook.
Cyrhelle's drawings began to waver — her sketches fading faster.
Sweat rolled down her temple.
"she whisper under her breath, gripping her pen.
Her hands moved again.
A serpent — drawn in three rough curves — surged from her side. It coiled around Riven's leg mid-punch, yanking him backward.
She followed it up with a glowing spear sketch — launched through the air and landing a clean hit across his ribs.
He staggered.
But didn't fall.
"Nice," he growled. "But not enough."
Riven slammed both fists down — a double shockwave that cracked the entire arena floor under their feet.
Dust clouded. Cyrhelle stumbled.
"Cyrhelle!" Charlotte stood in the viewing deck, hands tight on the railing.
As the smoke began to clear Riven walked forward. Limps, bruises, cracked armor — but smiling.
Cyrhelle, one knee down, hands trembling. Her sketchpad was scorched.
One final breath.
She slammed her hand to the ground, sketching something small.
A hummingbird.
Tiny. Glowing. Barely the size of her fist.
It zipped forward.
Riven laughed.
"What's that supposed t—"
The moment the bird tapped his shoulder, his entire upper body went numb.
He stumbled. His gauntlets dimmed.
"What…?"
The hummingbird flared with light and vanished — leaving Riven collapsed to one knee, his body unable to channel pressure.
Instructor Kaedin stepped forward.
"Stop!"
He raised one hand.
"Match over. Ortega is unable to continue. Victory — Elsinora."
Silence.
Then a roar of applause.
Kael stood quietly, arms folded.
Charlotte's eyes widened.
Levi blinked. "Did she just… out-sketch a demolition crew?"
Kael nodded once. "She timed it perfectly. Drained him until one hit mattered."
In the center of the arena, Cyrhelle exhaled. The last glow faded from her sketchpad.
She bowed slightly, turned, and walked away — her cat already waiting at the gate.