"Begin!"
The proctor's shout echoed across the arena, and Salim Hapshass wasted no time opening his grimoire with a flourish that screamed of practiced arrogance.
"Hmm, let me show you insolent hick how superior us nobles are in rank and power!" His voice carried across the colosseum with theatrical conviction. "You will regret ever making a mockery of me!"
Luck's response was immediate and visceral—a grin split his face from ear to ear as he began bouncing on the balls of his feet, his entire body practically vibrating with barely restrained excitement and battle lust. This was exactly what he'd been hoping for.
"Ice Magic: Ice Spear!"
A thick spear of ice materialized in front of Salim, easily a meter long and gleaming wickedly in the afternoon sun. It launched toward Luck with impressive speed, whistling through the air like a thrown javelin.
Electric sparks began dancing across Luck's body, crackling and popping with raw energy. Without even bothering to open his grimoire, he became a blur of blue lightning, the ice spear passing harmlessly through the space where he'd been standing a fraction of a second earlier.
Salim clicked his tongue in irritation, his noble composure slipping slightly. "It seems I will have to try a little harder. Be honored!"
His grimoire flipped several pages as he gathered more mana. "Ice Magic: Rain of Spears!"
The temperature dropped noticeably as roughly twenty-five ice spears materialized in the air above the arena, hanging like a frozen guillotine before raining down toward Luck in a deadly barrage.
Luck's smile widened impossibly further as he finally cracked open his grimoire. "Hahaha, that's more like it! Come on, show me more! Lightning Magic: Thunder God's Boots!"
Boots made of pure crackling electricity formed around his feet, and suddenly Luck wasn't just fast—he was practically teleporting. He streaked toward Salim as the ice spears fell, leaving afterimages in his wake while the frozen projectiles crashed uselessly into empty ground.
"Ice Magic: Ice Wall!"
From his position several yards away, Kenji watched Salim shout his spell name and physically cringed. God, why do they have to announce everything like that? It's like they're asking to be countered.
A thick barrier of ice erupted around Salim, forming a protective dome that should have stopped any normal assault. Should have.
Luck didn't even slow down. He launched himself at the wall with his right leg extended, the other tucked tight against his body, and his lightning-enhanced kick pearced straight through the ice like it was made of glass. The wall exploded outward in a shower of frozen shards, and Salim took the full force of Luck's attack directly to his chest.
The noble flew backward, blood already spraying from his mouth as he tumbled across the arena floor. He rolled several times before shakily pushing himself up, his expensive clothes torn and bloodied, his face a mask of outraged disbelief.
"How—HOW DARE YOU!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed. "Dammit, you dare lay hands on me?!" His hands shook as he gripped his grimoire tighter. "Fine! Although this is wasted on a commoner like you, take pride in knowing a noble such as I will use his ultimate spell to defeat you! You can tell the tale for the rest of your life back in your little village as a souvenir!"
Mana gathered around Salim in visible waves as his grimoire glowed with pale blue light. "ICE MAGIC: ICE GOLEM!"
The ground trembled as ice erupted upward, forming and reshaping itself into a hulking humanoid construct that towered at least three meters tall. Its crystalline body gleamed menacingly, and its massive fists looked capable of pulverizing stone.
Luck's response was manic laughter that echoed off the colosseum walls. "HAHAHA! That's better! I want more! Show me more!"
He vanished.
One moment he was standing on the ground, the next he'd reappeared directly in front of the golem's chest, his lightning-wreathed leg already in motion. The kick connected with a thunderous crack, and the massive construct actually skidded backward several feet, leaving deep gouges in the arena floor.
What followed was less a fight and more a one-sided demolition. Luck became a storm of lightning, appearing and disappearing at speeds that left streaks of crackling energy hanging in the air. He ran through the sky itself, his boots leaving trails of electricity as he circled the golem like a predator toying with wounded prey. Each strike chipped away more ice—a chunk from the shoulder here, a crater in the torso there, pieces of the arms and legs flying off in all directions.
The golem tried to fight back, its massive fists swinging with enough force to crater the ground, but it might as well have been swinging at ghosts. Luck was everywhere and nowhere, his laughter growing more unhinged with each successful hit.
With one final devastating kick, the ice golem shattered completely. Frozen fragments exploded outward like a bomb had gone off, raining down across the arena in a glittering shower.
Luck landed lightly, that manic grin still plastered across his face, and his attention immediately shifted to Salim. The noble stood frozen in shock, staring at the destruction of what he'd called his ultimate spell, and the grin he saw approaching him made his blood run cold with primal fear.
"Ice Magic: I-I—" Salim's voice shook as he desperately tried to cast another spell.
He never got the chance to finish.
Luck closed the distance faster than thought and drove his knee into Salim's gut with bone-crushing force. The noble folded like wet paper and went flying backward, blood spraying from his mouth. Before he could even process the pain, Luck was already behind him, delivering another devastating kick that launched him skyward.
What followed made several people in the audience look away in horror.
Luck became a pinball machine from hell, appearing and disappearing around Salim's airborne body, each strike accompanied by a gleeful shout of "More! More! More!" The sound of fists and feet connecting with flesh echoed sickeningly across the arena, punctuated by the wet crack of breaking bones.
Blood began falling like rain.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only ten seconds, Salim was nothing more than a broken puppet being juggled through the air. More bones were broken than intact, his face was a mask of blood, and he couldn't even scream anymore, his jaw hung at an unnatural angle, clearly dislocated or worse.
One final kick sent him crashing into the arena wall with enough force to crack the stone. He hit back-first, vomited a thick spray of blood that was darker red than normal—internal organ damage, definitely—and began sliding down the wall, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
The crowd's reaction was immediate and visceral.
"Monster!"
"Somebody stop this!"
"He's going to kill him!"
"Somebody put down that rabid animal—he's out of control!"
Several younger examinees were openly crying, shaking with fear at the casual brutality they'd just witnessed. This wasn't a fight; it had been an execution.
Luck landed casually, surveying his handiwork with obvious disappointment. "Awww, are you done already? I thought you were strong, not this weak." He pouted like a child denied a toy. "You're no fun."
Then his eyes lit up with renewed interest, and he launched himself toward Salim's crumpled form for what would clearly be a finishing blow.
Up in the captain's viewing area, Nozel Silva abruptly stood, his composure finally breaking. A noble was about to be killed in the examination under his watch—unacceptable.
"ENOUGH OF THIS FARCE!"
His mana exploded outward like a tidal wave of pressure, his grimoire already opening to pages that glowed with silver light. But Luck, tunnel-visioned on his prey, didn't even acknowledge the command. He continued streaking toward the unconscious Salim, lightning crackling around him with lethal intent.
Nozel's grimoire pages turned, a spell forming that would clearly do more than just restrain. At his side, Yami frowned, his ki sense picking up the intent to harm behind the captain's magic. The Black Bulls captain shifted forward, preparing to intervene.
Kenji watched all of this unfold from his position in the arena, his mind calculating angles and outcomes. Luck was about to kill someone. Nozel was about to seriously injure or possibly kill Luck. And nobody else seemed willing to stop it in time.
He sighed and muttered lowly, "Shouldn't be a problem if I show off—I mean, help out, right?"
Snap.
The world in Kenji's view shifted like reality itself was made of paper. Everything froze—Luck mid-flight, Nozel mid-spell, the horrified crowd with their mouths open in silent screams. The entire scene looked like a panel torn from a manga, flat and lifeless.
Kenji casually reached out his hand and made a grabbing motion, his fingers closing around empty air. Reality responded. The frozen scene literally tore away like a page being ripped from a book, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. With a casual swipe to the left, the darkness flipped over like turning a page, revealing a new scene—identical to the first, except Luck was simply gone.
Time resumed.
The silence was deafening. Everyone—examinees, audience members, even the captains—stood frozen in shock, trying to process what had just happened. One moment Luck had been there, about to deliver a killing blow. The next moment, with the sound of a snap, he'd vanished as if he'd never existed.
Up in the viewing area, every captain's eyes narrowed with varying degrees of interest and concern. Nozel stood mid-spell, his magic dissipating uselessly. Only one sound broke the stunned silence—Dorothy's soft giggling as she continued sleeping, as if she'd witnessed something particularly amusing in her dreams.
Kenji decided to break the tension. He held up his hand, showing everyone the crumpled piece of paper he held.
"So quiet," he said conversationally, his voice carrying clearly in the dead silence. "Hope you don't mind me helping out. I imagine there's no killing allowed in this exam, right? Anyways..."
He tossed the crumpled paper aside casually. As it tumbled through the air, a bright orange light enveloped it, and suddenly Luck was there—no longer wreathed in lightning, simply collapsed on the ground, peacefully unconscious as if he'd been sleeping the entire time.
Kenji pointed at the sleeping form. "I guess that's his win then, right?"
The crowd remained silent, all eyes turning toward the captain's viewing area, waiting for official judgment.
William Vangeance, ever the professional, finally stepped forward to restore order. His voice carried calm authority. "Yes, thank you for your assistance. I announce this match over. Medics, please assist both examinees off the stage, and we will proceed with the next matches."
With that declaration, he returned to his seat, and the tension finally began to dissipate.
n the viewing stands, Jack the Ripper burst into laughter first—a manic, unsettling sound that matched his unhinged appearance. "KEKEKE!"
Yami joined in with his own deep chuckle, though his was more thoughtful than manic. "Interesting kids this year."
Nozel, still standing, wore a deep frown. His eyes locked onto Kenji with barely concealed displeasure at having his authority undermined.
Kenji, catching that glare, decided to push his luck one more time. He winked at the silver-haired captain with a cheeky grin.
Jack leaned forward in his chair, that dangerous smile still playing at his lips. "That lightning brat's something else. Might be worth cutting up in a few years when he's properly sharpened."
Yami muttered "Weirdo" while blowing out smoke from his cigarette, earning an immediate glare from Jack that promised future violence.
Charlotte Roselei cut through their brewing argument with ice in her voice. "How utterly dreadful. He cannot even control himself in battle. Definitely not knight material."
Nozel nodded in agreement, finally sitting back down. "Agreed. A feral beast such as him has no place among the Magic Knights."
Yami turned to Nozel with a knowing smirk. "Ohhh, well I'll make sure to let Mereoleona know about what you said about her. How rude."
Nozel's face twitched—part fear, part anger. "Lady Mereoleona has nothing to do with what I've said."
William, sensing things spiraling again, brought the conversation back on track. "But that examinee with the white hair is certainly interesting. He was able to stop that boy from continuing rather quickly. I wonder what his magic is?" He looked pointedly at Dorothy, who remained peacefully asleep, offering no insights.
Yami and Jack both nodded at William's observation, Yami drawing out a long "Yeahhh" while narrowing his eyes at Kenji. The white-haired examinee, sensing the scrutiny, looked over and waved with a cheeky smile that suggested he knew exactly what kind of attention he'd drawn.
Finral, standing behind Yami, chuckled softly. "Well, he certainly has some flair."
Gueldre Poizot leaned forward with obvious interest. "I'm excited to see how his fight goes. I wouldn't mind someone like him joining my Purple Orcas."
Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, although the Blue Rose is primarily women, he would do well joining our squad from what I've seen so far."
William redirected everyone's attention. "We should focus on the stage now. The next match is about to begin."
But privately, as he watched Kenji return to his casual position against the pillar, William's thoughts were less welcoming than his public words. He may eventually pose a problem. He's not one of us, but possesses such strong magic. Something to monitor closely.
Down in the arena, as medics rushed to collect the unconscious bodies of Luck and the severely injured Salim, the other examinees gave Kenji a much wider berth than before. Some looked at him with awe, others with fear, and a few with the calculating interest of people who wanted to test themselves against him.
Kenji just smiled to himself and settled back against his pillar, hands in pockets, ready to watch whatever chaos unfolded next.
The exam was certainly living up to his expectations.