The gates closed behind us with a thunderous echo, and silence followed like a shadow.
The chamber stretched before us, vast and white, its polished stone surface gleaming like an arena forged by gods. Runes carved into the walls pulsed faintly, feeding on the thick mana in the air. Every step felt heavier here, every breath pressed down by the weight of enchantments designed to withstand devastation.
But the silence did not last.
Across from us, the Second-Year Apex Class stood assembled. Their presence was suffocating, their restrained auras pressing like a tidal wave against our lungs. They were not merely students—they were predators standing in formation, wolves eyeing intruders in their den.
At their head stood Christine Veynar.
Her platinum hair was bound into a sharp ponytail, silver strands catching the glow of the runes. Grey eyes, cold and piercing, swept across us with effortless command. Even suppressed to B-rank, her aura loomed like a mountain, a blade poised to strike. Rank A—though hidden, the truth radiated from her presence.
Beside her was Liam Heart. Calm, unreadable, his dark blue hair framed a face carved from stone. His black eyes watched us like a hawk, coldly assessing. His aura was wound tight, compressed until it hummed, like a sword vibrating within its sheath.
And to her right—Raven Lucien.
Blonde hair gleamed, green eyes sharp with arrogance. His smirk alone seemed sharp enough to cut. His aura rolled off him in waves, merciless and suffocating. Once vice president of the Swordsmanship Club—until Christine stripped him of the title. His grudge burned hotter than ever, and when his eyes flicked to me, hatred ignited like oil meeting flame.
Behind them, seven more stood in waiting:
Amara Velorin, spear in hand, scarlet hair blazing. A storm bound in steel.
Darius Fellhart, stocky and broad, his aura heavy as a hammer.
Elandra Myrris, staff in hand, silver-haired and serene, her lilac eyes glimmering with light.
Torven Drael, grounded, brown-haired, aura steady as stone.
Ilyas Verdan, lean, restless, daggers twirling at his hips.
Mirella Quen, auburn-haired archer, aura strung taut like her bowstring.
Kyros Vayne, pale, golden-eyed, shadows whispering at his feet.
Ten monsters. Ten legacies.
And we—First-Years—were expected to stand against them.
Christine's voice cut through the tension."Today is not about victory or defeat. It is about proving yourselves worthy of the Apex name. Show us your resolve. Show us your spirit. If you cannot endure, then you were never meant to stand among the strongest."
Professor Lysandra raised her hand. Her aura flared once, silencing all doubts."The rules are simple. No killing blows. No permanent crippling. You will fight until you can no longer continue. I will intervene if necessary."
Her hand fell."Begin."
Mana surged like a storm breaking loose.
First Duel: Seris Eryndor vs Elandra Myrris
Elandra stepped forward, her silver hair gleaming, lilac eyes glowing faintly as her staff spun. Runes lit at its tip, golden light gathering with divine precision.
Seris answered with steady steps, her icy-blue gaze already sharp. Frost laced the ground where her boots touched, mana spilling into the air as mist.
Light and Ice. Precision against precision.
Elandra struck first—beams of condensed light tore through the air like spears of judgment. Seris conjured a wall of ice, but the beams cut through it like molten steel through snow. Yet even as it shattered, the shards whirled around her, forming a storm of daggers.
The duel became a dance of brilliance and frost. Light sliced through ice storms; ice domes refracted beams into dazzling scatterfire. Golden radiance clashed with white mist, bursts shaking the chamber's stone floor.
But Seris was laying a trap. Ice crept steadily across the ground, unnoticed until too late.
Elandra leapt back to fire another beam—and her foot slipped. For a heartbeat, her balance faltered.
The ice surged upward, locking her leg, and an avalanche of spears materialized above her.
She shattered the bonds with a desperate burst of light—but froze as the spears halted an inch from her throat.
Silence.
"I yield," she sighed, lowering her staff.
Gasps erupted from our ranks. The First-Years had drawn first blood. Seris Eryndor had defeated a Second-Year.
Second Duel: Carmila Noctharyn vs Kyros Vayne
Shadows pooled as Kyros stepped forward, his grey hair falling over one golden eye. His aura slithered unnaturally, whispering promises of death.
Carmila followed, crimson eyes flicking briefly to me before curling into a possessive smile. Blood welled from her palm, shaping into a scarlet spear. The scent of iron thickened the air.
Their clash was immediate.
Shadows lashed like serpents. Carmila's spear carved them apart, blood scattering like fire before reforming midair. Kyros vanished into darkness, reappearing behind her with a dagger of night—only to strike blood-mist.
"Too slow," she whispered, reforming with twin crimson blades.
Steel of blood clashed with blades of shadow. Sparks flew, mana screeched. The battlefield trembled. But shadows could not bleed, and blood could not be erased by darkness. Their duel locked into stalemate.
At last, Kyros faltered. His shadows dissipated. Carmila's crimson blades pressed against his chest.
He raised his hands."I concede."
Another win for us. My classmates erupted in cheers—but her crimson eyes never left mine. The obsession in them deepened.
Third Duel: Raven Lucien vs Kael Rivers
The air soured as Raven stepped forward, his smirk widening. His eyes slid from me to Kael."Don't disappoint me, First-Year trash."
Kael spat. Fire licked his blade."Funny. I was about to say the same."
Their clash shook the chamber.
Raven's swordplay was merciless—a hurricane of precise thrusts and cuts, every strike honed to kill. His aura pressed sharp as razors.
Kael met him with fire. Explosions of flame detonated with each swing, raw force slamming against Raven's polished technique.
Steel screamed. Fire roared. For a time, Kael held.
But Raven was a predator. His footwork was tighter, his blade faster, his aura sharper. Slowly, inevitably, Kael's guard crumbled.
With a brutal twist, Raven wrenched Kael's sword free and leveled his blade at his throat.
Kael's fire sputtered out. His teeth clenched."Damn it…"
"Pathetic," Raven sneered, kicking his blade aside.
The First-Years seethed—but defeat was defeat.
Fourth Duel: Nymera Dravenholt vs Darius Fellhart
Where Raven's duel had been a storm, this was a hammer meeting scalpel.
Darius swung his massive blade like a club, shockwaves cracking the stone beneath him. Nymera flowed around him, calm and precise, redirecting, parrying, cutting shallow wounds that drew blood without ending him.
His grin faded as exhaustion set in.
When she disarmed him, her blade poised at his neck, silence fell.
"…I yield."
Cheers erupted. Hope sparked again.
Fifth Duel: Theodore Ashbourne vs Ilyas Verdan
Theodore adjusted his glasses and stepped forward with stiff resolve. Across from him, Ilyas twirled his daggers, foxlike grin sharp.
"Try not to bore me, bookworm."
The clash was swift and merciless. Ilyas moved like the wind, daggers carving Theodore's defenses apart. His textbook-perfect form shattered under real speed.
A kick sent his glasses cracking, blood spraying. A dagger pressed against his throat.
Theodore dropped his blade in shame.
Sixth Duel: Viviene vs Mirella Quen
Viviene's crystal flared, birthing a shimmering shield of mana. Arrows rained against it, each strike a thunderclap. She advanced, teeth grit—until her aura flickered.
The crystal pulsed erratically. The shield cracked.
Mirella's eyes narrowed. Three arrows loosed. The shield shattered. One arrow buried into Viviene's arm.
She dropped her blade with a cry.
Mirella lowered her bow with respect."You fought well. But your heart wavers."
Viviene bowed, defeated.
Seventh Duel: Selene Ravenshade vs Torven Drael
My sister's aura trembled as she stepped forward. Pride and fear warred within her. Torven's earth mana rumbled, steady and immovable.
Selene's strikes burned bright but unstable. Each swing wild, each burst cracking her own stance. Torven's defense was absolute.
At last, stone surged beneath her, knocking her flat. His blade hovered.
"It's over."
Tears burned her eyes."…I yield."
Shame weighed on her as she retreated.
Eighth Duel: Evelyne Aureldane vs Amara Velorin
Evelyne gripped her blade too tightly, knuckles white. Amara's scarlet hair blazed, her spear steady.
"Show me the fire that once bound you to him."
Evelyne's eyes flicked to me—just for an instant. It was enough.
Amara struck like lightning. Spear became storm. Evelyne's hesitation left her crushed beneath the blows. Her sword flew free.
Amara's spear kissed her throat."On the battlefield, hesitation is death."
Evelyne trembled."I… yield."
My chest ached—but I forced my eyes forward.
Ninth Duel: Lucian Aureldane vs Liam Heart
Lucian—the quiet shadow of our class, Evelyne's brother—stepped forth. His stance was steady, his blade clean, his resolve silent but sharp.
Opposite him, Liam Heart hefted his spear, scarred arms flexing. His aura was a storm waiting to break.
The clash rang like thunder.
Lucian pressed forward with disciplined swordplay, every strike measured. For a time, he held his own, even forcing Selric back.
But Second-Year experience was merciless. Liam's aura exploded, his spear a tempest of force. Lucian's guard faltered. His blade was torn from his grip, and the spear pinned him to the ground, tip at his throat.
Lucian froze. His jaw tightened."…I yield."
Liam pulled back, nodding once.
Another loss.
The Score
By the time the dust settled, the tally stood clear:
Second-Years: 6 wins.
First-Years: 3 wins.
We had shown brilliance. But the gulf remained.
And then—Christine Veynar stepped forward.
Silver hair gleamed. Grey eyes sharpened. Her aura swelled, silencing the chamber.
And my blood thrummed in answer.
It was time.