Chapter 11
The air around the battlefield was already buzzing with tension. Freddie and Warren squared off, their magic sparking faintly, every muscle coiled like drawn steel. From the stands, students leaned forward, a wave of murmurs rippling through the crowd.
"Freddie versus Warren…" someone whispered. "That's a fight worth watching."
Luna glanced toward Cassie, who sat with her arms folded, red eyes narrowed. "They look serious."
Cassie nodded. "Warren's enjoying this. Freddie isn't."
On the field, Freddie launched forward first. Their clash rattled the earth, fists and feet colliding in bursts of force that sent sparks scattering. Warren grinned through the blows, like he was dancing. "You've gone soft, Freddie!"
Freddie didn't answer. Instead, he tightened his focus, lightning gathering subtly at his fingertips. Thunder Creation Magic: Bolt. The disguised strike lashed out, but Warren twisted at the last moment, the crackling flash grazing past.
Warren's grin widened. "So, the hard way then?" His tone darkened as his attacks grew sharper, faster. A fireball swelled between his palms. "Fire Creation Magic: Burning Flame!"
The blaze roared forward—only to cut through empty space. Warren's eyes narrowed.
"Thunder Creation Magic: Shockwave."
The words hissed behind him. Electricity slammed into his back, ripping a curse from his throat. Warren staggered, smoke rising off his cloak. For the first time, his grin slipped.
The spectators erupted. "Freddie landed one on him!"
But Warren only rolled his shoulders, fire simmering again at his fingertips. "Fun's over," he muttered.
Meanwhile, Ethan rushed back toward the base. His heart still pounded from Warren's flames earlier, but the scene ahead snapped him back to focus. Blue team's flag stood, barely guarded—Sage and a few others holding back red uniforms that pressed harder with each minute.
One fighter in particular towered over the rest, his fists crashing into Sage's guard like sledgehammers. She dug her heels into the dirt, grimacing with every block.
"Ethan! A hand, now!"
Without thinking, Ethan lunged in with a flying punch—only to regret it instantly. The man's body felt like concrete. His knuckles split, pain shooting up his arm.
"What the—?" Ethan staggered back. First Sage, now this guy?
Sage barked out between breaths, "He's reinforcing his whole body with magic power. No abilities. Just raw application. Stronger than me."
Ethan's chest tightened. Like me…
They squared up again, Ethan channeling as much magic power into his strikes as he could. His blows landed heavier, sharper, but the brute retaliated with a single gut punch that sent Ethan skidding across the dirt.
Coughing, Ethan looked up just as Sage raised her hand. "Weapon Creation Magic: Staff."
A glowing outline shimmered, solidifying into a staff gripped tight in her fists. She swung hard, the impact ringing like iron on iron.
Ethan's jaw slackened. "Weapon creation magic? Freddie, Luna and now Sage… are all first years broken?"
Even with the staff, the brute pushed her back. The clash echoed like thunder, each strike threatening to snap her arms.
Ethan wiped the blood from his lip. "If this keeps up, you'll lose."
Sage gritted her teeth. "Then stand with me, idiot."
They pressed in together, Ethan forcing his magic deeper, trying to lock his power into every punch. The more he pushed, the more something inside him began to hum—quietly, dangerously.
Freddie and Warren's battle raged on. The ground beneath them was charred and cracked, their blows leaving shockwaves in the air. From the stands, Cassie leaned forward, her voice low. "He's slipping. Warren's reading him."
"Freddie's still fighting back," Luna murmured. But even she sounded unsure.
Warren's grin sharpened. "You've gotten stronger, I'll give you that. But it's time."
Before Freddie could question it, Warren feinted with another fireball. Freddie darted in—only for Warren's voice to cut sharp.
"Fire Creation Magic: Blazing Sun."
Nothing happened. Freddie blinked, thrown off for the split second Warren needed. A brutal barrage smashed into him—punches, kicks, elbows—before the delayed Blazing Sun detonated behind him in a burst of roaring fire.
The blast swallowed Freddie whole.
Smoke cleared. Freddie staggered out, his body bruised, cloak charred, but alive—magic power had blunted the worst of it.
Warren tilted his head. "Told you. Not enough to kill… but it'll hurt like hell."
A final spinning kick crashed into Freddie's jaw. His watch flickered blue—then went out.
In the Blue base, Ethan barely noticed the shockwave in the distance. His eyes locked on the brute in front of him. His fists clenched, his vision narrowing.
And then—something clicked. His mind went silent.
The roar of the crowd dulled to nothing. His heartbeat slowed, each pulse steady as a drum. The world sharpened—every twitch of the brute's muscles, every breath, every opening clearer than daylight.
His punch landed. The same punch he'd thrown a dozen times—
Something inside him uncoiled, a quiet certainty settling over his body.
but this time it cracked through the brute's guard, folding him in half. Blood sprayed from his mouth.
Sage blinked. "Hell yeah—"
Ethan cut her off, his voice low, steady. "Stay back."
A second blow, even heavier, thundered into the man's ribs. Then another. And another. Ethan's aura flared, glowing faint around his skin, every strike driving deeper until a final uppercut sent the brute crashing skyward. His watch blinked out.
The crowd gasped. Even Cassie's usual calm faltered. "That… wasn't normal."
But before Ethan could breathe, the battlefield shifted. All around, blue uniforms crumpled, their watches blinking off one after another. Ethan spun.
"Sage, what's happening—?"
A cold shiver prickled Ethan's neck. Something had shifted in the air—like the battlefield itself had gone quiet for half a heartbeat.
Silence. Sage lay at his feet, bruised and unconscious, her watch dead.
"Sage?" His voice cracked. He stumbled forward, panic rising. "Sage!"
And then—slashes tore across his body. Sharp, precise, faster than he could see. His watch dimmed, flickered… and went dark.
The world blurred. Ethan blinked through the haze. For a heartbeat, he saw him—William Light, katana in hand, the blue team's flag in the other, calm as shadow.
The next blink, William was gone—reappearing at the red team's base.
"Winner!" The headmaster's voice thundered across the arena. "Red Team—victory goes to William Light!"
The crowd erupted in awe and disbelief.
On the ground, Ethan's chest heaved, his vision swimming. One thought burned, raw and sharp.
What the hell was that?