Marcus slammed into the ground like a projectile. The impact reverberated through the entire chamber, kicking up dust and stone fragments.
Yet still, he did not let go of the egg.
He kept it pressed against his torso, wedged under his arm, as if his entire body existed solely to protect it.
Duke gave him no time to rise.
He fell from above, a mass of muscle descending with clear intent. The stomp was aimed directly at Marcus' head. Without thinking, Marcus crossed his arms and raised his plates, forming an improvised shield over his face.
The impact was brutal. His plates screeched; his arms sank against the floor, and a dry shockwave ran through his body. The force compressed his posture, broke his balance, and forced him to loosen his grip.
The egg flew from his chest, rolling and bouncing over the stone, sliding out of reach.
Marcus watched it slip away as Duke's weight continued pressing him into the ground.
Ryun and Rylan advanced toward the egg almost in parallel, separated by a scant distance. They did not run in a straight line: each adjusted their trajectory to gain centimeters while denying the other's progress.
Ryun acted first. As he advanced, he launched a sideways cut with his katana—not to wound, but to force Rylan to divert.
Rylan blocked with one sword and countered with the other, forcing Ryun to twist his body.
That twist did not take him off target; it allowed him to change angle and advance another step toward the pillar.
From that moment, combat and movement became inseparable. They cut, blocked, and dodged while advancing toward the egg.
They attacked without pause, because slowing meant giving ground.
Each exchange pushed one to circle around the other, and each circling brought them slightly closer to the center. They spun on themselves, crossing paths, swapping positions, but the common vector was always the same: the stone pillar.
Neither sought a decisive strike. The goal was different: force the opponent to yield space without losing speed.
Each defense gained half a meter.
Each successful dodge prevented falling behind.
From the outside, they looked like a constantly advancing whirlpool. A circle of steel and motion that did not close in on itself, but progressed. They spun, struck, canceled each other… and yet, step by step, they closed in on the egg, reducing the distance with every rotation.
Rylan held his breath, his body rigid under Ryun's pressure. The egg was just behind him, tempting, but turning would be suicide:
Ryun would not forgive such a careless move. Besides, even if he turned, there was no way to reach the egg and leave Ryun behind, nor to escape the pursuit of the other students.
He could not even understand how Marcus had managed to hold it, even for that brief instant.
Rylan frowned, calculating every possible move. His mind raced. For a moment, he wished he were like his sister—confident, daring, able to see exits where no one else could.
Then, like a flash, the idea came: a bold, unexpected solution, one of those that appear only when clarity and urgency coincide. Inspired by his sister's audacity, it was risky but perfectly executable.
Rylan's smile was barely perceptible, a fleeting instant before putting it into action.
Rylan blocked Ryun's two rapid attacks with precision, noting once again how incredible his opponent's ability was to match the rhythm of someone wielding twice as many weapons.
Without losing a moment, he launched his plan.
He raised both swords and, in a synchronized downward motion, forced Ryun to retreat a few steps.
Without pause, Rylan stepped back further, positioning himself directly in front of the egg.
With a roar that echoed through the chamber, he shouted in his monstrous voice:
"LIORA, COVER IT!"
From the other side of the chamber, Liora heard the echo of the shout and understood her brother's intention immediately.
She raised her hand and released a large concentration of ether. A blue bubble appeared on the other side of the chamber, enveloping the egg completely and suspending it in the air, protected and ready to be transported.
Rylan wasted no time. He hurled both swords at Ryun, forcing him to dodge and lose ground, gaining crucial seconds.
He stepped back forcefully and, using all his strength, kicked the egg within the protective bubble.
The impact was precise: the blue bubble shot across the chamber, floating through the air as Marcus, Duke, and Ryun watched, unable to intercept it in time. The bubble, brilliant and stable, advanced toward Liora, who waited at the other end to catch it.
Liora wasted no time either. In front of her, the queen ant towered, immense and menacing, watching every movement closely.
Without hesitation, she concentrated her ether into several red bubbles and launched them at the queen. Each exploded with precision, generating shockwaves that forced the queen to retreat, readjusting her posture and leaving space to maneuver.
The bubbles were not just attacks; they were terrain control, a method to buy time and ensure the path to the egg remained clear.
As the queen recovered, Liora focused her concentration into a single larger bubble beneath her feet. Detonating it, the force of the blast propelled her upward, lifting her through the air with contained violence, allowing her to maintain control.
During the flight, she used the momentum to catch the egg with both hands, pressing it firmly against her chest, ensuring it would not fall for even an instant.
Her landing was meticulous: she rolled upon touching the ground to absorb the impact, adjusted her posture, returned to her human form, and exited through the north entrance.
Exactly the way she had entered.
Jhon, at her side, reacted instantly, following Liora without hesitation.
The other students watched the scene in disbelief. In a matter of seconds, the situation had shifted completely. The egg had moved from near the south entrance to the north entrance.
Victoria, still dealing with Emma, muttered through gritted teeth, a thread of anger in her voice:
Not again.
Her spear was caught in the giant bear's jaws, the middle section bitten down hard, but she had no time for frustration. Her chance to secure a top-three position would vanish if she allowed Liora to escape the mountain with the egg—and she would not tolerate that.
Her gaze landed on the bear. She evaluated every movement with precision. Then she executed an unexpected but effective maneuver: she concentrated her ether into her body, and in an explosion of vapor, her height dropped sharply from 3.70 meters in monstrous form to 1.78 meters in human form.
The reduction was instantaneous, and with it her volume and silhouette partially disappeared between the bear's legs. Victoria slid fluidly, almost brushing the ground, through the giant's legs, Emma's teeth snapping at air where she had been seconds before.
The maneuver Victoria had executed was popular among Transformers, especially for its visual spectacle, but inefficient. Every time a Transformer shifted from monstrous to human form or vice versa, a fixed amount of ether was consumed. With this move, Victoria had invested a considerable portion of her energy just to leave Emma behind.
But it was necessary to win.
And winning was necessary for Victoria.
Once past the obstacle, she resumed her monstrous form, her body growing again—muscles, golden armor, and red cape instantly expanding. The vapor explosion accompanying the transformation still swirled in the air.
Victoria ran toward the north entrance.
Marcus remained on the ground, still being stomped by the deranged Duke.
Because of that insane bastard, Marcus hadn't just lost the egg that would secure him a top-three spot.
The egg had gone from his possession, to slipping away, to being in Liora's hands, increasingly out of reach. All because of Duke.
And if that wasn't enough, the lunatic pressing him down continued attacking in the same spot, indifferent to the fact that his blows were being blocked.
Apparently, he only wanted to hurt Marcus.
"Is this son of a bitch never going to stop until he breaks through my forearms?" Marcus muttered, furious.
Marcus continued enduring the stomps, each impact fueling his anger and frustration. His body vibrated with every blow, but his mind remained cold, analyzing Duke's movements, seeking an opportunity.
Then, in a moment of carelessness, Marcus didn't block the next stomp; he simply dodged. Duke's foot, loaded with all his strength, struck the ground with a dry thud, sinking slightly into the cave rock. That instant was enough.
Marcus moved with feline precision.
He twisted his body, leaned back, and hooked Duke's ankle with his monstrous arms, crossing the enemy's leg over his own and tensing with force.
The ankle was trapped between his arm and body, while his hips and torso rotated to apply pressure. Duke's leg was completely immobilized, his knee bent at a forced angle, and every attempt to move produced a dull crack in the joint.
It was a perfect Ankle Lock, a hold designed for absolute control and pain without wasting a second.
Without delay, Marcus spat out his last claw, reserved for critical moments, and grabbed it with his hand.
With rapid, precise movements, he began stabbing Duke's leg, aiming to weaken his enemy's strength and secure his escape.
Each thrust was measured, taking advantage of the hold's pressure so Duke could not react effectively.
With Duke's leg compromised and the hold firmly set, Marcus released his momentum and launched himself toward the north entrance.