As they stepped through the final threshold, a blast of noise and heat smacked into them like a wave.
The room opened into a massive circular chamber, wide and carved roughly into the earth itself. The stone walls dripped with condensation, dimly lit by rune-lamps that flickered in shades of red and orange—casting everyone's shadows into jagged monsters.
In the center of it all was a round fighting pit, slightly sunken into the ground. A wide ring of iron fencing encircled it, scorched and dented in too many places to count.
Wooden benches and steel bleachers rose in tiers, circling the pit like a stadium—though nowhere near as clean. Dust, old mana burns, and graffiti sprawled across the seats.
The air was thick—smoke, sweat, and blood mingling like perfume for the lawless.
Roars erupted as a cloaked fighter was knocked flat on his back—his body skidding across the gravel-stone floor, glowing faintly from a failed Pacta barrier. The crowd exploded, stomping, laughing, yelling.
A massive iron door on one side of the pit slammed shut with a clang—the only exit for fighters. Locked until the match ended.
Blanche's eyes narrowed.
"So once you're in the ring… there's no walking out."
"Not unless someone carries your bones," Rea muttered. "Or what's left of 'em."
They moved quietly to the back rows, higher up, where the shadows were thicker and eyes less curious.
Vila's gaze scanned everything—from the sigils burned into the pit walls, to the way the crowd moved like one living beast.
They sat.
Down below, a new contender climbed down into the pit, shirtless, fists already glowing with red mana. His opponent followed—a leaner student in a tattered coat, electricity flickering from his knuckles.
The crowd screamed for blood before the bell even rang.
"This isn't just a fight club," Blanche murmured. "It's an arena."
"Kael's pride and playground," Rea whispered. "And maybe—where that missing girl made her last mistake."
The match unfolding in front of them was like watching a thunderstorm condensed into fists.
The air snapped with bursts of mana—raw, uncontrolled, dangerous.
One fighter moved like a wrecking ball—thick, fast, merciless. His arms were wrapped in half-melted pacta bindings, fists slamming down with enough force to crack the stone floor. His opponent danced around him, using lightning speed, his strikes sparking with electric energy—but every dodge was a hair too close.
A jab. A counter.
A roar.
The crowd cheered with their whole bodies, stomping and throwing sparks of energy into the air, some even chanting spells just to make the impact louder.
Blanche sat forward, eyes locked on every movement—calculating.
Vila didn't blink.
The fighter with lightning stumbled once—just once. And that was enough.
A steel-wrapped punch met his ribcage.
There was a crack—audible even up in the rafters.
The crowd exploded as the body flew across the pit.
"Winner: Dymus!" the announcer roared. "One minute, forty-nine seconds! Who's next!?"
Cheers erupted again.
Blanche leaned toward Rea.
"Any sign of Kael?"
"Nope. He doesn't come out for warmups."
Blanche nodded.
"Alright. Let's—"
A sharp burst of static came from the center speaker crystal.
The announcer's voice rang out again, smug and loud:
"Seems we've got ourselves a bold little challenger tonight! You've seen her scowl across campus, now see if she bleeds the same! Give it up for... ZHEN YUXIN!"
Everything stopped.
Blanche's breath hitched.
"...What?"
Down below, the crowd began to part like a sea—and from the entrance tunnel, a lone figure walked into the pit.
Dark cloak. Hands in pockets.
Expression? Completely deadpan.
Zhen Yuxin.
Her boots crunched against the arena floor like she wasn't walking into danger—but boredom.
"Her?" Vila muttered.
Blanche rose slowly from her seat.
"What is she doing here?"
The ring lit up again as the next fighter emerged.
Towering. Scarred. Shirtless.
Veins glowing faintly with red mana runes. Third-year. Known as a walking slab of enchanted muscle.
The crowd went wild.
"DYMUS VERSUS SHADOW BARONESS!" the announcer screamed. "BEGIN!"
The bell rang.
The crowd roared.
Dymus charged like a war beast—no hesitation, no grace, just raw momentum in human form.
His boots crushed into the stone floor, muscles rippling with each stomp. Every step closer sent a fresh wave of pressure across the pit, like gravity had just turned against Yuxin alone.
She didn't move.
Not at first.
Cloak fluttering lightly, arms still down, expression unreadable. Her eyes stayed locked on Dymus—not afraid, not cocky—just calculating.
Then he struck.
A right hook like a hammer swing.
The force cracked the air.
Yuxin twisted just enough—the edge of the fist grazed her sleeve, but the shockwave behind it slammed into her like a wall. She stumbled two steps back, boots skidding, cloak snapping in the wind.
The crowd cheered louder.
"OPEN YOUR EYES, SHADOW GIRL!" someone shouted.
"HE'LL BREAK YOU IN TWO!"
Dymus didn't give her time.
He launched again—fists flying like wrecking balls, one after another. A left uppercut aimed for her ribs, a sweeping backhand coming right after. Yuxin ducked low, shadows curling around her boots for traction.
Another strike.
Another.
Yuxin leaned back—a breath away from having her jaw shattered—and the wind from the punch blew her bangs back.
She clicked her tongue.
"Too loud."
Dymus grinned.
"Too slow."
He lunged again—this time going for a grab. Both arms out, aiming to lock her in and slam her body into the ground.
Yuxin dove to the side, rolled across the gravel floor, and came up to her feet fast—but still off-balance. Her breathing had quickened. Tiny scrapes dotted her arms where the gravel caught her skin.
Above, Blanche gripped the railing tight.
"She's not moving like usual."
Vila nodded once, her silver eyes locked on the arena.
"She's holding back."
Down below, Dymus cracked his knuckles and flexed, eyes burning.
"You done dancing yet, little bat?"
Yuxin slowly straightened up. She adjusted her coat sleeve without a word.
Another punch tore through the air toward her.
She ducked again—barely.
Dust flew.
"Tch…"
Her eyes narrowed. Focused.
He's not just muscle. He's trained. Keeps center low. He aims to corner, not kill.
Another blow.
No reckless mana use—he's smart. Waits for a slip. For fear. For flinch.
Yuxin backed up again—right heel kissing the arena's inner ring wall.
...And I've seen enough.
The next punch came—straight for her chest.
This time, she didn't dodge fully.
She moved through it.
A slip. A breath. A step to the left.
Shadow bent around her waist like water.
The punch missed. But her hand didn't.
Her left arm swept low—and shadows exploded like whips from her fingertips, slashing up in an arc from the floor—aimed straight for Dymus's face.
The fight raged on.
Blow after blow rained down—raw, brutal, unforgiving.
Dymus's fists struck like thunderbolts, his aura burning red-hot, each swing cracking the air like a whip.
Yuxin stumbled back again, a fresh bruise forming just below her collarbone where one hit grazed her. Her breath came heavier, shadow slipping around her feet defensively.
The crowd roared louder.
"SHE'S DONE!"
"FINISH HER!"
But Blanche's eyes narrowed.
"No. Something's off."
Vila said nothing—but her gaze locked on Yuxin's stance.
Down in the ring, Dymus grinned wide, sweat trailing down his jaw.
"Still standing, shadow-girl?"
Yuxin wiped a trickle of blood from her lip. Her breathing steady… almost too steady.
She looked up at him—
And smiled.
A slow, sharp grin.
"Yeah," she said, voice calm.
"You finally done repeating yourself?"
Dymus lunged again—a full-body haymaker, wide and reckless.
But this time—Yuxin didn't dodge.
She stepped into the blow.
It connected.
Or… it seemed to.
The impact hit her shoulder—hard enough to send a normal student crashing down.
But instead, her body shifted—like smoke curling through space.
The force passed through a shadow.
A decoy.
He drops his left foot when he twists. Opens his ribs for a quarter second.
There it is.
Yuxin's real body emerged behind him—already mid-spin.
CRACK.
A shadow-coated elbow slammed straight into the back of Dymus's knee.
The giant staggered. One leg buckled.
Before he could recover, a whip of pure darkness lashed around his right wrist, pulling it off-balance.
Yuxin twisted her body—shadow trailing her like a cloak—and struck upward with a clean hook to the jaw, powered by an explosion of shadow coiling under her boots.
Dymus's head snapped sideways.
The crowd gasped.
"What the—?!"
Yuxin landed lightly, one knee bent, shadows swirling like ink under her heels.
She looked up at the stumbling mountain of muscle—still upright, but dazed.
"That all you got, tough guy?" she said, tilting her head.
"I've taken harder hits from pillow fights."
Dymus growled, rushing forward again.
Yuxin didn't move.
She let him come.
Just before the blow landed, her shadow split—a second Yuxin flickering to the side, landing low with one hand pressed to the arena floor.
"By the way—" she said softly, her grin widening,
"—I was just playing dumb."
BOOM.
A pulse of shadow erupted from under Dymus's feet, catching his legs mid-charge.
His whole body lifted from the ground—airborne for just a second.
Yuxin shot up after him—like a serpent of darkness chasing its prey.
And then came the real hit.
A spinning kick—backed by shadow tendrils, slammed into his chest and sent him flying backward into the iron fence.
The arena shook.
The crowd fell silent.
Up in the stands, Blanche slowly stood.
Vila's lips moved slightly.
"...Now she's serious."
The dust never had time to settle.
Dymus roared back to his feet, cracked blood at the corner of his mouth, eyes burning red.
Yuxin stood still, her cloak torn, one knee slightly bent, shadow trailing like smoke behind her. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her expression unreadable—but her gaze was locked. Sharp. Cold.
No more tricks.
No more testing.
This was the end.
"You think you've got me figured out?" Dymus growled, spitting to the side.
"Let's see if you can take me head-on."
Yuxin rolled her shoulder, flexed her gloved fingers, and smirked.
"Finally done throwing tantrums? Then let's dance."
They moved.
Both at once.
Dymus launched forward with a barrage—right jab, low sweep, shoulder rush.
Yuxin dodged low, then countered—a flicker of shadow striking his side, blocked by his mana-coated arm.
Back and forth.
Steel met smoke. Muscle met ghost.
Every strike from Dymus was answered.
Every counter from Yuxin was parried.
Their bodies blurred across the pit—gravel kicked up, ring walls cracked, mana bursting with each collision.
The crowd forgot to cheer.
Even the noise died into pure breathless awe.
One hit. Blocked.
Another. Dodged.
A spin-kick from Yuxin—caught mid-air.
Dymus twisted her leg—she flipped free, shadow breaking the grip just in time.
Sweat dripped.
Teeth gritted.
Then—
It happened.
Dymus—half a step too early.
A punch meant for Yuxin's left shoulder—she was already gone.
You rushed.
Her eyes sharpened.
Everything aligned.
Her shadow surged beneath Dymus like a trapdoor opening to the abyss.
She struck.
A burst of movement—blinding fast.
Right fist wound back, coated in swirling, violent shadow.
"Here's your receipt."
BOOM.
Her punch crashed into Dymus's abdomen—not just with strength, but precision.
The impact folded him forward—then lifted him clean off the ground.
He flew.
Across the arena.
Straight into the far wall with a sickening crack that shook the entire pit.
Silence.
Then…
THUD.
Dymus slid to the floor—unconscious.
Still breathing, barely.
The crowd stared.
Frozen.
Then erupted.
Yuxin stood still, arm slowly lowering. Her expression?
Still calm. Still unreadable.
But her shadow flickered like it was smiling for her.
The crystal announcer buzzed, then flared red.
"AND THAT'S IT, FOLKS! THE CHALLENGER WINS!! SHADOW BARONESS TAKES THE PIT!!"
The roar was instant.
Stomps. Shouts. Whistles.
"YUXIN! YUXIN!"
They didn't know her name before.
They sure as hell did now.
Yuxin didn't raise her hand. Didn't smile.
She just turned away from the ring center, cloak dragging through the cracked gravel, shoulders tense like she still had adrenaline to burn.
The iron gate hissed open—finally unlocked.