The arena pulsed with mana. Each wave of cheers felt like it rattled the very seats, and Jihoon sat among hundreds of other students, his eyes sharp. The air was thick with anticipation. He had fought his match—today, he was just an observer. But he wasn't here for entertainment. He was here to study.
One by one, matches began, each introducing students whose names echoed across the academy.
Match One
The first fight pitted Han Seojin against a bulky student named Kang Daeho. The moment the referee gave the signal, shimmering petals of metal burst into existence around Seojin, each shaped like a razor-edged blossom. They spun in perfect synchrony, orbiting her like a deadly halo.
"Steel Bloom," someone whispered behind Jihoon. "She can generate and control metallic petals, razor sharp, nearly unbreakable."
Seojin's petals shot forward, darting in weaving patterns too fast to track. Daeho tried to deflect them with his shield, but each impact left dents in the metal. Seojin didn't just attack—she layered her petals into a shield when Daeho countered, then instantly reformed them into spears. Within minutes, Daeho was down, his shield in ruins.
Jihoon leaned forward slightly. Versatile and balanced… but the petals seem to drain her stamina over time. She was panting by the end.
Match Two
The next match drew curiosity from the crowd. Park Minjae entered, his lean frame moving with a casual ease. His opponent was Choi Sunwoo, a fast striker known for lightning jabs.
When the match began, Minjae didn't dodge—he vanished. Then he reappeared two steps to the left. Sunwoo's punch hit empty air. Minjae moved again, flickering between positions like a ghost.
"Echo Steps," the announcer explained. "Every step leaves a delayed afterimage—confusing the opponent into striking at the wrong one."
It was almost artistic—Minjae's afterimages lingered just long enough for Sunwoo to commit to a strike, only for the real Minjae to counter from another angle. In less than two minutes, Sunwoo was on the ground, defeated by a sharp kick to the side.
Jihoon smirked faintly. Good against one opponent, but predictable against someone who can sense mana properly. Still… efficient.
Match Three
When the third student walked in, the crowd's energy shifted. Whispers turned into hushed awe.
Lee Haneul. One of the top three students in the entire academy.
His opponent wasn't another student—it was Instructor lee, a combat veteran. That alone made the crowd restless; student-versus-teacher matches were rare and epic.
Haneul stood calmly, hands behind his back, as if this were a formality. Instructor lee cracked his neck, a grin on his face.
The signal was given.
At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then the air… bent. It was subtle, but Jihoon saw it—the faint shimmer of distorted space around Haneul. The teacher charged forward, but his steps slowed unnaturally, as if wading through invisible water.
"Gravity Veil," someone muttered in awe. "He can alter gravity in a localized area. Slow enemies down… or crush them if he focuses enough."
Instructor lee swung a heavy punch, but the strike's speed was reduced to half. Haneul sidestepped effortlessly, then raised one hand. The teacher's body slammed downward, the floor cracking under the sudden pressure.
The crowd roared.
Lee tried to counter, channeling mana into his legs to leap away, but Haneul shifted the gravity sideways—sending the teacher skidding uncontrollably across the floor before colliding with the barrier wall.
Jihoon's eyes narrowed. This… this is different. This isn't just control—it's battlefield dominance.
But he could also see it—fine beads of sweat on Haneul's forehead. Maintaining such precise gravitational fields wasn't easy. It wasn't a power you could casually throw around; it required immense mana control and stamina.
Still, the fight was decided. Instructor lee conceded with a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're wasted as a student, kid."
The crowd exploded into cheers, chanting Haneul's name.
Jihoon didn't cheer. He just watched.
Match Four
After the storm that was Gravity Veil, the next fight seemed lighter—at least at first. Yoon Harin stepped into the ring, her fingers twitching like a musician testing an invisible instrument. Her opponent, Kim Jisoo, was a close-combat specialist.
As soon as the fight began, silvery threads of mana stretched out from Harin's fingertips, attaching to Jisoo's limbs. They weren't visible to the naked eye unless the light hit them just right. With every flick of her fingers, Jisoo's movement faltered.
"Puppeteer technique," Jihoon noted quietly. Controlling the enemy like a doll. Nasty in one-on-one fights.
Jisoo fought back, breaking some strings with bursts of mana, but Harin's control was relentless. Within moments, Jisoo was forced to kneel, her own limbs working against her. The crowd gave a mix of cheers and uneasy murmurs—Harin's ability was impressive, but also unnerving.
As the matches continued, Jihoon found himself piecing together patterns—how each fighter's style depended not just on their power, but their ability to manage mana, react under pressure, and hide weaknesses.
But when he thought back to Haneul's fight, his mind lingered.
Gravity Veil. The way it could shift an entire battle without even striking directly. The sheer control it required. The potential it had if paired with other abilities.
As the last match ended and the crowd began to disperse, Jihoon leaned back in his seat, eyes half-closed.
"I want that ability," he murmured under his breath.
And deep within the shadow of his thoughts, the Nethrak smiled.