The bear's massive frame shuddered as the ice armor shattered, falling away in jagged chunks. Suddenly, thick, emerald vines lashed out like whips, shredding fur and flesh before coiling around its limbs in a suffocating bind. Xander launched himself skyward, a blur of motion, and brought his staff down with a bone-shattering thud. As his ability flared, the impact was so violent that his staff splintered into toothpicks—and the bones in his hands snapped like dry kindling. The bear's pupils rolled back, leaving only blank white voids as it slammed into the dirt, the vines emitting a sickening crunch as they pulverized the beast's ribs.
"Now you are just taking advantage of me," Amil growled, his hands glowing with a surge of forced vitality as he knitted Xander's shattered arms back together.
A series of explosive pops rang out as the bear surged upward, brute strength ripping through the reinforced vines. It lunged to its feet, only to be met by a forest of jagged ice spikes erupting from the earth. They impaled its underbelly, forcing a roar of pure, unadulterated agony and spite. Still skewered, the beast launched its multi-ton mass into the air to crush Amil under its sheer weight. Amil didn't flinch; he conjured a massive, serrated ice spear that met the bear mid-descent, skewering its chest cavity. It crashed down, a dying mountain of fur. Xander didn't wait—he leapt onto the hilt and drove his fist into the spear, hammering the ice through the bear's spine to seal its death.
Xander stepped off the carcass, a manic grin plastered on his face. "That was epic!" he bellowed, thrusting his arms toward the sky. The shout was cut short. A spearhead whistled through the air, burrowing into his chest and aiming for the heart. Before the blood could hit the ground, Xander's form fractured into shimmering particles, vanishing from the arena.
Amil froze, his blood turning to ice. A cold, mocking voice drifted from the shadows: "That fool and his shouting."
Tkos moved like a predatory shadow while the others were paralyzed by the shock. His arm shifted, flesh giving way to a lethal, metallic sheen. With a sickening squelch, he drove his hand straight through Hope's back before she could even gasp—two eliminations in the blink of an eye. Amil's vision went red. If anyone was going to slaughter these "inferior beings," it would be him.
Vines erupted from the soil like striking cobras. Tkos braced for the onslaught, but a fist cracked the sound barrier, slamming into the base of his skull. He went spinning into the dirt. As he scrambled to recover, a vine as thick as a tree trunk whipped across his face, tearing skin from bone. Before he could find his center, the stolen spearhead whistled again, burying itself in his heart and forcing his immediate elimination.
Amil stood over the spot, eyes burning as he glared at Damien. Another kill stolen. Without a word, the ground groaned as massive vines rose to lash at Damien. Damien didn't retreat; he crossed his arms, taking the shredding blows head-on as his armor was peeled away like paper. Then, he exploded forward. Amil threw up an ice rampart, but Damien smashed through the frozen wall like a battering ram.
His fist was a hair's breadth from Amil's face when his momentum vanished—the vines had snagged his waist, hoisting him high before slamming him into the bedrock with a thunderous crack. Amil didn't let up, manifesting a suit of jagged frost armor. His boot connected with Damien's ribs with the force of a truck, leaving a layer of killing frost on his chest.
Damien rolled, gasping, but Amil was already descending with an ice dagger. Damien punched the earth, releasing a concussive wave of pressurized air that sent Amil skidding back. Damien blurred into motion, appearing in Amil's shadow. Amil swung the dagger, but Damien ducked low, seizing Amil by the waist and hoisting him for a shattering suplex. Amil drove his blade into Damien's arm to break the hold, flipped mid-air, and landed—only to be met by a vicious backfist that rattled his brain. Two more punches hammered into his solar plexus, driving the very air from his lungs.
Amil could feel Damien's mana flickering. As Damien swung a final, heavy haymaker, Amil caught the fist in a vice grip. Rime and frost raced up Damien's arm, freezing the blood in his veins. Damien roared, kicking Amil's knee inward to break the contact, retreating as his own mana frantically burned away the invading cold.
"Man, who knew this exam was going to be such a hustle?" I muttered, scanning the charred, broken landscape of my own making. Two Rank 6s down, and a trail of eliminated students behind me.
I turned toward a massive pressure I'd sensed earlier, but stopped dead. Tamari Crimson stood there, looking like she'd crawled out of a war zone.
"You must be Lucien," she said, her voice raspy. I was too drained to even offer a witty comeback.
Then, she deleted herself from reality. No sound, no blur—just gone. She reappeared behind me, her fist a silent executioner aimed at my spine. I reacted on instinct, detonating a lightning net that hissed and sparked across the clearing. She vanished again, reappearing in the sky above me. I let loose a roaring stream of dragon-fire, but she vanished into the smoke. Golden mana strings suddenly cinched around my throat and limbs. She appeared in my guard, her fist burying itself into my chest with a dull thud.
She vanished again. "I'm starting to see your rhythm," I growled, tearing the golden strings apart with raw physical strength. My mana was a guttering candle; this was going to be a brawl.
I whipped a roundhouse kick to my left just as she materialized. Her arms went up to block, but the impact cracked the air. She was sent skipping across the dirt for several meters, struggling to find her feet as dust choked the air.
"How much more mana do you have? Can you keep up this circus act?" I panted.
"How did you know where I'd be?" she spat.
"You rip the atmosphere when you appear. A normal human wouldn't feel the pressure drop, but my elf blood hears it like a thunderclap. You're running on fumes, Tamari. Your 'vanish' is getting sluggish. You're taking too long to strike."
Tamari wiped blood from her lip and sighed. "Fine. I'm tapped out, and I'm not in the mood to trade bruises with a Moonstar today. I want a bath and a pillow. Consider yourself lucky, but next time? I won't be running on empty. I give up! Get me out of this hole!"
She vanished into light. "I'm counting on it," I whispered, turning my heavy boots back toward the bear.