Lucas wiped some blood from his knuckles onto his torn uniform. Around them, the battle royale was still in full swing.
Explosions echoed across the arena, and the flash of barriers eliminating students lit up the space like lightning.
"How many have you taken out?" Lucas asked.
"Twelve," Zacard replied casually. "You?"
"Just those three."
"Then you better get moving if you want to rack up points." Zacard gestured with his spear toward a cluster of students fighting near the center. "Plenty of targets left."
Lucas nodded and was about to move when a familiar voice called out.
"Lucas! There you are!"
Both Lucas and Zacard turned to see Carl Wayland storming toward them and his face was twisted with rage.
Behind him were five more students, all wearing the same expensive uniforms and noble house crests.
"I see you've dealt with my advance party," Carl said. "But let's see how you handle the real thing!"
