"Glad to finally team up with you, Volts!" Kazoru grinned, almost bouncing with excitement. More than anything, he was thrilled to finally witness Volts' power up close.
"S-Slow down, you two! We should keep pace with each other," a girl's voice called.
The girl was Melaine Ebery, a B+ rank warrior of the Red Sun squad—a steadfast supporter. Her Main Ability, Solidify, was unlike any ordinary tank's defense. With it, she could harden the very air into impenetrable shields, or amplify an ally's ability, solidifying their power tenfold or more.
"Fair enough," Kazoru chuckled, easing his stride to match hers. "We'll move at your pace, Melaine. But while we're steadying up, let's think of a plan. We can't just run around hacking at beasts and warriors at random."
Volts folded his arms, already considering. "I'm thinking of a trap. Something to corral the beasts—and maybe even the warriors. With Kazoru heating the area, the beasts will be forced to move. They're sensitive to temperature shifts, so they'll flock toward the zone that feels most comfortable."
"And that's where she comes in," Volts pointed at Melaine. "She can solidify barriers across their escape routes, channeling them into one direction. Large beasts are tough to pin down, but if she restrict their paths, we can corner a whole group at once."
"As for warriors," Volts continued, "my spike rods will handle that. They detect sudden movements. Every twitch sends me an electric pulse, and I'll know exactly where they are."
Kazoru beamed. "Good point, Volts! You're a natural at this."
Volts gave a small, confident nod.
"Alright, then it's settled. Melaine, can we count on you?" Kazoru asked, voice steady.
"Yes!" Melaine replied, her eyes alight with determination. For the first time in a long while, she felt confident her team could truly stand against the chaos of the tournament.
The trio moved into position. Kazoru stood at the heart of the forest, while Volts and Melaine crouched low in the thickets, hidden by brush and shadow.
Kazoru inhaled deeply, feeling the trees around him—fuel waiting to ignite. With practiced precision, he released his flames, compressing the fire into controlled bursts. His master's teachings weren't a waste. He would not let the forest burn. Instead, he bent the heat to his will, spreading it just enough to discomfort the beasts.
The creatures stirred restlessly. Fur bristled, wings beat erratically, and scales shimmered as they fled the oppressive warmth, searching for cooler ground.
That was when Melaine struck. She solidified the air itself, raising invisible barriers that sealed off escape routes. Panicked, the beasts had no choice but to funnel toward the river, where relief awaited.
And so did Volts.
He raised his hands, arcs of electricity dancing across his fingertips. The instant the beasts broke through the treeline, he unleashed his charge. Bolts of raw electricity ripped through the water, stunning the creatures in place. One after another, they collapsed, incapacitated.
It was efficient. Ruthless. Brilliant.
Within an hour, their holoboards tallied the results: 360,000 points.
The plan was working—too smoothly.
Then Volts froze. His spike rods pulsed—a faint warning, like ripples across still water. "Someone's coming…"
Before he could adjust, the rods fizzled, sparks flying as they were systematically destroyed. Volts pressed a palm to the ground, closing his eyes. The rods might be gone, but the faint buzz of movement in the earth told him everything he needed.
"Warriors. Two of them. Nine o'clock. Headed your way, Kazoru," he murmured into the mic.
"Got it." Kazoru's flames dimmed instantly. He knew the sudden temperature shift would give them away. Thinking fast, he gathered heat into a single blaze, shaping it like a flare and hurling it skyward. The fireball lit up the canopy, crackling as it soared—both a distraction and a signal.
The air cooled. The forest fell eerily quiet.
And the hunters closed in.
"You can come out now," Kazoru stood ready.
"Hmph, a fool you are standing alone. I'm guessing your team is hiding around here."
The man stood alone.
At first glance, he didn't seem particularly imposing—yet something about him felt deeply wrong. A worn mask concealed half his face, its expression unreadable, while strands of unkempt black hair fell messily around it. His figure was tall but unnaturally thin, his limbs almost skeletal beneath his clothes, as if he had been starved for weeks. His presence carried a quiet, unsettling weight.
Only one? Then the other must be concealing its presence, Kazoru thought.
"!?"
A sudden shift in the air sent Kazoru leaping back. His eyes scanned the surroundings, alert for any hidden movement. Something was wrong.
Then he felt it.
An invisible gas spread through the air, brushing against his senses. His vision blurred for a split second, the world distorting at the edges.
"Illusion magic… in gaseous form," Kazoru muttered, keeping his distance. "This guy might be trouble."
"Maybe I am."
The voice came from behind.
Kazoru's eyes widened. He spun instantly, his fist igniting as he struck with blazing force—but it passed through.
The man's body was intangible.
In the next moment, multiple figures appeared, surrounding him. Illusory clones flickered into existence, overlapping and shifting, their presence disorienting and impossible to track.
Kazoru faltered.
The world twisted.
His vision grew hazy, his mind slipping into a trance as the gas took hold.
Through blurred sight, he saw the man again—clearer this time.
A scarf wrapped around his neck, streaked with white and dark green. The pale strands drifted like mist, while the darker hues pulsed like a poisonous vapor, seeping into the air itself.
Kazoru's body began to weaken.
Each breath dragged the gas deeper into his lungs, clouding his thoughts, distorting his senses. Reality fractured, slipping further from his grasp as he struggled to stay conscious.
"Breathe it in," the man said calmly, his voice laced with quiet menace. "This gas will soothe you… and slowly drive you into madness."
He looked down at Kazoru, who knelt on one knee, struggling against the haze creeping into his mind.
But Kazoru refused to yield.
Flames erupted from his body in a sudden blaze, scorching the air around him. The surge of heat shattered the illusion, snapping him free from the man's influence and forcing the enemy to recoil in surprise.
"Smart… but reckless," the man murmured, a faint grin forming. "You're interesting."
Kazoru didn't hesitate. The moment clarity returned, he thrust his hand forward and unleashed a massive torrent of fire. The blast roared across the battlefield, tearing through the fog and launching toward his opponent—
—but it struck nothing.
"Tch… I missed. A decoy."
He exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing.
"Then I'll use it."
[Special Move: Fire Magic — Ring of Spirit!]
Heat exploded outward.
In an instant, the temperature surged to a deadly 270°C, turning the battlefield into a blazing inferno. A vast ring of fire spread across the island, trapping everything within its radius. The air itself became suffocating, draining stamina and amplifying heat exhaustion with every passing second.
Volts and Melaine reacted immediately, coating their bodies in mana before the heat could consume them.
The man's fog began to dissipate under the overwhelming temperature. Unable to endure the scorching atmosphere or reinforce himself in time, his advantage faded. Even the surrounding beasts collapsed, their strength sapped by the relentless heat.
Yet the forest remained standing.
The trees, tested beforehand by Kazoru, proved resilient enough to withstand the inferno. Flames danced around them, but they did not burn.
At the center of it all stood Kazoru.
The Ring of Spirit formed a blazing domain—a sealed battlefield encircled by fire. Within it, Kazoru's power surged. His flames burned brighter, his body grew stronger, and his enemies were steadily worn down, their mana drained and their defenses weakened.
It was a double-edged technique.
Allies caught within its range would suffer as well, their movements slowed under the oppressive heat.
But this had been accounted for.
Through careful coordination and planning, Kazoru and his team had already prepared for the cost.
And now, within this burning domain—
the advantage was his.
"Look how far he's grown…"
Sazoru's voice carried a quiet pride as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes fixed on the wide projection screen before them. The spectator room buzzed faintly with energy, dimly lit so the massive display of ongoing battles could take center stage. Flickering images shifted across the screen—explosions of magic, clashing warriors, and chaotic movements captured from every corner of the testing grounds.
At the center of it all—
Kazoru.
"Compared to the last time he took the warrior's license exam…" Sazoru continued, a faint smirk forming as he crossed his arms. "He's on a completely different level."
He tilted his head slightly, watching as Kazoru moved through the battlefield with sharper instincts, faster reactions, and far more control over his flames.
"And these Magro-bat Cameras…" he added, gesturing lazily toward the floating lenses projected on-screen. "Pretty convenient. You can judge someone's skill without missing a single detail."
Behind him, Rozori sat back in his chair, more relaxed, though his eyes remained just as attentive. He followed Kazoru's movements closely, occasionally glancing at the surrounding feeds.
"Yeah…" Rozori muttered. "Makes things a lot easier to analyze."
"Hey, don't just focus on him."
Kitsune suddenly leaned forward, her ears twitching slightly as she pointed toward another section of the screen. Her expression was bright, almost excited.
"Look over there—Akira and his team are holding their ground pretty well too."
The display shifted slightly, showing another battlefield where Akira and his group fought fiercely against a swarm of beasts. Coordinated movements, timed attacks—they weren't just surviving, they were adapting.
"They're doing better than I expected," Kitsune added with a grin.
"Hmm… strange."
Erica's voice cut in as she lounged comfortably in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. She casually tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth, eyes still glued to the screen.
"By now, someone should've interfered with their hunt," she said thoughtfully. "You know… disrupt them, steal points, that kind of thing. That's usually how these matches go."
She reached over and offered the popcorn container toward Rozori without even looking at him.
Rozori accepted it absentmindedly, grabbing a handful as he spoke.
"Not necessarily."
Crunch.
"The passing score's around five hundred thousand," he continued, chewing casually. "If two teams get close to that threshold, playing it safe becomes the smarter option."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Unless they decide to cooperate and push beyond that…" he added, then shook his head. "But honestly? I doubt anyone here is that trusting."
Erica hummed in agreement, taking the container back as the two shared the snack without much thought.
The room settled into a brief lull—
Until—
"Am I interrupting?"
The voice came from behind them.
Calm. Measured.
Yet heavy enough to immediately shift the atmosphere.
Everyone froze.
A shadow stretched across the floor, cast by a figure who had entered so silently that none of them had noticed.
Rozori turned first.
"Y-You're—!?"
His eyes widened in shock, the popcorn in his hand forgotten.
Sazoru didn't speak.
But his body reacted.
A faint twitch ran through his brow, his posture stiffening as tension coiled beneath the surface. His fingers curled slightly, as if instinctively preparing for something.
Kitsune, however, remained composed.
"Oh my…" she said lightly, though her eyes sharpened with recognition. "The General of the Thousand Blades."
She offered a polite smile, her tone smooth and welcoming.
"You're always welcome here."
The figure stepped forward into the dim light.
Kamui.
"Thank you, Miss Kitsune," Kamui replied, his voice calm, almost pleasant. His gaze swept across the room before settling—very deliberately—on Sazoru.
"It would seem, however…" he continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "that not everyone shares your hospitality."
His eyes narrowed slightly, amused.
"Tell me, Sazoru… are you still holding a grudge over our last arm-wrestling match?"
A vein twitched on Sazoru's temple.
He let out a slow breath, though it did little to hide the irritation in his expression.
"No," he replied flatly. "Not at all."
A pause.
Then his eyes sharpened, locking onto Kamui with open hostility.
"Just surprised to see a hotshot like you walk in here and expect a warm welcome," he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Especially after cheating."
Kamui's smile widened—subtle, but unmistakably teasing.
"Cheating?" he echoed, almost amused.
He closed his eyes briefly, as if savoring the accusation.
"That's a bold claim."
When he opened them again, there was a quiet confidence in his gaze.
"I didn't cheat," he said calmly. "I simply used every tactic available to me."
A slight tilt of his head.
"Gravity, included."
Sazoru's fist clenched.
"That counts, dumbass."
His voice rose slightly, irritation now fully breaking through.
"It was supposed to be a test of raw strength—not some clever trick!" The air between them tightened, tension crackling like an unseen spark—
And in the background, the battles on the screen continued to rage on.