The whistle echoed across the training ground.
The postponed match resumed.
The Four Musketeers versus the Super Four.
Luke rushed in first, immediately engaging the enemy's close-range fighter. Their wooden swords clashed as Luke pressed forward with a series of aggressive swings, forcing his opponent to give ground.
Meanwhile, James, Kyle, and Brian held their positions, waiting for instructions.
"LUKE! WE NEED A PLAN!" James shouted.
Luke didn't answer. He continued attacking, seemingly determined to overwhelm his opponent through sheer pressure.
The other three exchanged confused looks. Assuming Luke had already thought of something, they moved to support him.
Kyle stepped beside Luke. "What's the next step?"
Luke answered with another aggressive swing. His opponent retreated, puzzled by the sudden change in their strategy.
"...What are they planning?" one of the Super Four muttered.
Brian frowned. "Dammit, Luke! Focus!"
Luke froze for a moment. Reality finally caught up with him, and he stepped back to take a slow breath.
"...Sorry, guys. I got caught up in my own head."
James lowered his shield slightly. "You sure you're alright? You seem... delayed."
Kyle nodded. "Yeah. You catch a cold or something?"
Brian rested his bow against his shoulder. "Hey, we can drop this match if you're not feeling it. We're a team. We're not forcing anyone to fight."
Luke looked at the three of them before taking another deep breath.
"...We're not giving up now, guys."
James grinned and raised his fist. "That's the spirit! Come on, say it with me. All for one?"
"And one for all!" the others shouted together.
Luke couldn't help smiling.
Across the arena, the Super Four watched the exchange.
"What are they talking about?" their support asked, scratching his head.
"No idea. I think somebody caught a cold."
The team laughed quietly before returning their attention to the match.
Luke's smile gradually disappeared as he studied their formation. His eyes sharpened.
"They're preparing for a full offensive."
Brian tightened his grip on his bow. "Then we defend."
Luke shook his head. "No. We attack."
Brian blinked. "...Well, you usually know more than us. So what's the plan?"
Luke studied the opposing formation for a few seconds.
"Their close-range fighter is going to split us apart. We'll let him."
Without another question, the Four Musketeers lined up, with James at the front, Kyle behind him, Luke next, and Brian at the rear.
The Super Four mirrored their formation.
Five seconds passed without either team moving.
James inhaled.
The instant the enemy stepped forward, Luke spoke.
"So do we."
Both teams charged.
The distance between them disappeared quickly. Just before their formations collided, the Super Four's close-range fighter suddenly broke to the left, rushing toward their flank.
Luke moved in the opposite direction.
"NOW!"
Kyle immediately raised a wind barrier around the remaining three teammates. The enemy swordsman was forced to slow down as he approached the barrier.
But Luke caught something from the corner of his eye.
Behind the enemy tank, their support was already casting another spell.
A compressed sphere of wind.
"...So that's your plan."
The spell wasn't aimed at James or Kyle. Instead, it was timed to explode inside Kyle's barrier, where the pressure could catch the three remaining Musketeers together.
Luke's eyes widened.
"BRIAN! NOW!"
Everything happened at once.
Kyle shifted the barrier toward the left, trapping the enemy close-range fighter outside. James lifted his shield, creating a clear line of fire for Brian.
Brian released his arrow.
It flew straight toward the compressed sphere.
The moment it pierced the spell, the sphere burst.
The compressed wind exploded behind the arrow, propelling it forward with tremendous speed.
The plan was simple. Luke would intercept the arrow with his sword, turning the impact into a powerful explosion capable of eliminating three opponents at once, even if it meant sacrificing himself in the process.
But the Super Four had anticipated their strategy.
Their long-range fighter released his own arrow, enhanced by his support's wind magic. It wasn't as powerful as Brian's shot, but it was accurate enough.
The two arrows collided.
Brian's shot spun away from its intended path, missing Luke completely.
"...Plan B."
Luke immediately changed course and charged through the battlefield.
The enemy formation scattered, and Kyle's wind barrier faded. Both teams spread apart, leaving the fighters to face their respective opponents.
Four separate battles erupted across the arena.
The formations were gone. Their carefully coordinated strategies had been disrupted, leaving each fighter to rely on individual skill, knowledge, and experience.
The duel dragged on.
Minutes passed, then half an hour. Eventually, nearly an hour had gone by.
Coach Tyrone watched every exchange carefully.
"They're adapting..."
He nodded slightly.
"...Good."
Luke crossed swords with his opponent again, but the longer the fight continued, the more his thoughts began to betray him.
How did I not see that coming?
I should've planned for it.
Wooden swords clashed around him as bursts of wind swept through the arena. No matter how hard Luke tried to get close to his teammates, his opponent kept pushing him away. Every time he found an opening, another attack forced him back.
After exchanging several blows, Luke began to tire. That's when he finally noticed something wrong.
He was the only one being pinned down. James, Kyle, and Brian could still move freely, while he remained trapped in a battle that was slowly wearing him out.
Luke inhaled deeply and launched himself forward, his wooden sword ready to strike. But just as he closed the distance, he swung at the ground instead, kicking up a cloud of dust to obscure his opponent's vision.
He tried to use the smoke to reposition himself.
His opponent adapted immediately.
The moment the dust spread, the swordsman swung toward Luke's last known position. Luke had no choice but to step back, narrowly avoiding the strike.
Across the arena, Tyrone watched the two teams exchange blows. For the first time, the Four Musketeers had found opponents capable of matching them in both strategy and execution.
Though, admittedly, the matchup wasn't entirely fair.
"So, it looks like they're at a deadlock."
Tyrone glanced to his side. Jin had arrived with a snack in hand, watching the battle as though he were enjoying a show.
Tyrone sighed. "They are. The Super Four are just as clever, and their experience gives them an advantage. The Four Musketeers can't win every match."
Jin turned toward him.
"Wait, I haven't heard of the Super Four before. Who are they?"
"They're from Caelora National University," Tyrone explained. "They were my best students back then, although they aren't as strong as the Four Musketeers are now."
Jin nearly choked on his snack.
"Wait. So you're making Luke fight college students who have more experience than him? That's messed up, dude."
"I'll give them the win here anyway," Tyrone replied. "I'm just testing their limits."
Jin stared at him.
"I mean, sure. If they actually win against college students, they'll become the first high school team to pull that off."
"Exactly."
The battle continued.
One hour and twenty minutes had passed since the match began. Both teams were exhausted, and Luke's movements had grown noticeably slower.
Then his legs momentarily gave way.
His opponent seized the opening and swung at him, but Luke managed to dodge just in time.
"Dammit, he's so persistent! What should I do now?!"
A familiar voice echoed inside Luke's head.
"You're losing. Your muscles are betraying you. You're growing weaker with every swing."
"I'm not losing," Luke muttered.
"There's no hope for you."
Luke gritted his teeth. "Shut up."
"There's no strength left for you to win."
"SHUT UP!"
His opponent pressed forward, forcing Luke to defend himself. His arms trembled as he blocked another strike, and his breathing grew increasingly ragged.
Then the voice returned.
"But there's a way. If you want to win this, you need me."
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
"You need power. This fight is meant for you. Take this power and secure your legacy."
Anger overwhelmed Luke's remaining caution.
He charged forward with everything he had left.
His opponent dodged, and Luke's wooden sword cut through empty air, leaving him wide open. The opposing swordsman immediately moved to finish the fight.
"Last chance."
Luke could barely stand. He knew he was close to defeat, and for one desperate moment, he considered accepting the offer.
"What can you offer?" he asked weakly.
"Power."
"What kind?"
The voice chuckled.
"Zenith."
Luke hesitated.
"You lack the power of a true fighter."
"Your mana isn't suited for you."
"You're a fighter, not a healer."
The words dug into Luke's doubts, attacking the very thing he had been struggling to understand since his abilities were revealed.
He gathered what little strength he had left, trying to steady his thoughts.
The temptation was overwhelming.
The voice was offering him exactly what he wanted: the power to overcome his weakness and win.
But accepting it meant giving in.
Luke finally made his decision.
"No."
The voice disappeared.
The mental strain left Luke barely conscious. His vision blurred, and his legs finally gave way.
When he came back to his senses, he was on the ground, struggling to keep his eyes open.
His opponent's wooden sword was already descending.
Then it stopped, hovering inches above Luke's chest.
The swordsman looked down at him.
"You alright, champ?"
Luke blinked slowly. His breathing was heavy.
"...I'm fine."
He swallowed.
"You win."
The fighter sighed.
"...No. You're not fine."
He rested his wooden sword against his shoulder before helping Luke to his feet.
Coach Tyrone immediately ran over.
"What happened?"
"He's having trouble keeping his balance," the swordsman explained. "I can sense his Psyche, and it's dimming. I think he needs some rest, Coach."
Luke's teammates hurried over.
James grabbed Luke by the shoulder.
"Bro..."
He looked at Luke with a mixture of frustration and concern.
"What did I just tell you?"
Luke forced a tired smile.
"...I'm okay."
He paused to catch his breath.
"Just... tired."
Coach Tyrone turned toward the crowd.
"The match is a draw! No points will be awarded. The next scheduled match will continue as planned."
Medical staff quickly entered the arena to examine the exhausted competitors. Students slowly dispersed, whispering about the unusually long battle.
The Four Musketeers stayed beside Luke while the Super Four watched quietly from across the field.
Once the medical staff had taken over, Tyrone returned to the bench. Jin followed him.
"So Luke reached his limits?" Jin asked.
"Probably," Tyrone replied.
Jin glanced toward the Super Four's captain.
"You didn't tell me their team leader was a Psyche."
"Yeah. He awakened that ability during a four-on-four team battle when he was the same age and grade as Luke."
Tyrone leaned back in his seat.
"His ability lets him sense his opponents' mental stability. He's only recently mastered it, though. There's a lot more he could potentially do if he develops it further. He might even become an S-ranker."
Jin raised an eyebrow.
"That's why you arranged this match? You thought Luke might awaken something of his own?"
"Exactly."
"Bold move."
"Shut up."
Tyrone looked down at his checklist. After a moment, he marked the Four Musketeers as advancing to the next round.
Their next challenge would be individual matches.
Jin glanced at the checklist, then back at Tyrone.
"So you're really letting them advance even though the match ended in a draw?"
"Sure."
Jin grinned.
"I like that."