The sound of rapid blows echoed across the grounds.
BAKOOOM… BASH… BANG!
Emily and Ariel's strikes were devastating—heavy, precise, and charged with the power only charismatics possessed. Their fight surpassed the limits of normal human capability.
Charismatics were physically superior in every way, and the difference was on full display.
Emily tried to land solid hits, but Ariel's speed made her a blur, almost impossible to track.
Blink… Blink… Blink.
Ariel seemed to teleport around the battleground. Woosh!
Suddenly, she appeared behind Emily, extending her leg in a sharp kick. Emily quickly adjusted, facing her opponent. Ariel's leg, extended from the follow-through, gave Emily the leverage she needed.
Grabbing Ariel's leg, Emily flung her across the arena. Swoosh!
Ariel spun gracefully mid-air, landing on her feet without a scratch.
"You're light on your feet, Lady Von Grace," Emily quipped.
"And you're quite the brute, Miss King," Ariel retorted.
Blink.
Ariel materialized a mysterious crimson mist around her. Her hand gestured sharply.
"EXTEND Parsále!" she commanded.
POOF! SHHWWING!
From the mist emerged a magnificent silver claymore, its mahogany handle gleaming with regal majesty. A monarch's blade, hungry for blood—and its current target was Emily Julie King.
Mason watched in awe. "WOW," he exclaimed.
Travis's eyes stayed locked on the battle. "This isn't good," he muttered.
Ariel swung the blade in a deadly arc. Swoosh! THUD!
A thick ivory-white shield materialized out of thin air, blocking the strike. Emily's eyes glowed a bright green as she smiled.
"Gotcha!" she declared, pushing Ariel aside.
Emily charged with sudden speed, forming a long ivory lance and hurling it at Ariel. The blade parried easily with Parsále.
"Really? Throwing away your weapon so soon?" Ariel teased.
Emily summoned a massive bone broadsword. Blink… Clang… Thud!
Her ivory shield absorbed Parsále's bite, but Ariel gestured again, spreading the crimson mist across the battleground. Then, like a specter, she vanished.
Emily's shield began melting.
"What the hell?!" Emily exclaimed.
"Why is her shield melting?" Mason asked.
"I think it has something to do with that mist," Travis replied.
Emily felt a presence before her. She parried instinctively, but each clash was accompanied by twisted laughter—the unmistakable sound of Ariel Von Grace.
"I need higher ground," Emily muttered. She conjured a three-meter-high ivory platform, giving her a better vantage.
"Emily, above you!" Travis shouted.
Thin, needle-like crimson spikes rained down. Emily conjured a larger, thicker ivory shield overhead.
The mist rose again. Ariel emerged at incredible speed, her blade slicing across Emily's face. Emily fell from the platform.
"Emily! Nooooo!" Mason and Travis screamed in panic.
THUD!
Emily hit the ground hard. Ariel gestured, and the crimson mist transformed into writhing tendrils, attacking Emily's direction.
SWOOSH! BAKOOOM!
Dust cleared, revealing only an ivory decoy impaled and slashed—a misdirection. Ariel's laughter echoed.
Emily retaliated, firing miniature ivory projectiles like bullets. Ariel's mist absorbed them, protecting its mistress.
"Behind you!" Emily taunted.
Ariel elegantly sliced through the projectiles with Parsále, moving like a deadly dancer.
From the stands, William Skylar analyzed the battle. "I see…"
"What do you see?" Vinchanko asked.
"How Miss King's authority works," William replied dryly.
"Complex," Vinchanko muttered.
"Yes. On the surface, it seems simple—she creates ivory constructs—but it's more than that. She alters the moisture in the air, transforms it into a calcium-based substance, and hardens it into bone-like constructs. Essentially, she converts ambient water into solid weapons and shields."
Vinchanko nodded. "Versatile… but still no match for Lady Von Grace's authority."
Emily's platform began to collapse—but didn't vanish. Instead, it moved as if alive. Her ivory constructs shifted into a viscous liquid.
"I can only maintain this liquid state for a few minutes," she muttered.
The liquid convulsed, forming a hulking ivory beast.
"IVORY CHIMERA!" Emily shouted.
The creature roared, charging Ariel. Calm as ever, Ariel pointed Parsále toward it. Her sword absorbed the mist, glowing a menacing crimson.
"I enjoyed our battle, but I promised myself I'd never lose," she said.
"CRIMSON OBLIVION!"
Parsále released a concentrated blast of crimson energy. BOOOM!
When the dust cleared, Emily lay unharmed—but her beast was obliterated. Ariel remained serene.
She was spent the moment she summoned that creature, Ariel thought.
"Good effort," she said silently, walking off and banishing Parsále into the mist.
Captain Armstrong shouted, "The final battle of the exhibition is over!"
Mason and Travis rushed to Emily. A medic already attended her—a gentle woman with magenta hair and soft brown eyes, slightly shorter than Emily. Her uniform bore two stars, indicating her professional rank and authority over vitality.
"Please take good care of her," Mason said.
Emily was placed in a hovering medical pod and transported to the infirmary.
---
Fifteen minutes later, students awaited the closing remarks. Commander Melinda Atlas, head instructor of Atlas Academy, appeared. Dirty blonde hair, deep blue eyes, confident smile—she radiated authority.
"That was a remarkable spectacle. Skill, cunning, determination—exactly what we expect at Atlas Academy," she said.
"Don't rest on your laurels. Even if you didn't win as expected, continue striving for greatness. Enjoy your weekend, but remember: play hard, work harder."
Students streamed out, Mason and Travis among them.
"Emily fought hard. I didn't know she was that strong. I want to ask her about her authority," Mason said.
"Yeah, dude, me too," Travis replied with his usual lighthearted tone.
Mason noticed the change in Travis. I guess he's done being all serious since the exhibition's over.
At a vending machine, they discussed Ariel's versatile authority.
"What does her authority actually do? One moment she summons swords, the next she's laughing maniacally," Mason said.
"I hope we don't go crazy when we awaken," Travis replied.
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut in.
"You got lucky, punk. If that witch hadn't saved you, you'd be history."
Summer Powell scowled at Mason before walking away.
"Bastard," she spat.
"Wow… Mason, you're quite the ladies' man," Travis teased.
"Fuck off, man," Mason shoved him.
Travis laughed and shoved back, the tension finally breaking.
What awaited no one knew but it was a much lighter moment .
---