Amil stood his ground, breath hitching as he desperately stalled for mana. He lunged, a vicious kick connecting with Damien's ribs, but the man didn't flinch. He was a statue of flesh and bone. Amil's strikes grew more frantic, more savage, his boots and fists leaving dark bruises on Damien's skin, yet Damien only slid backward, his heels carving twin trenches into the dirt.
"What happened to all the flashy moves?" Damien taunted, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Is the great elf out of mana like the rest of us commoners?"
Damien's shoulder twitched. His fist moved with such raw velocity it ignited a sonic boom, the shockwave shattering Amil's ice armor like glass. The blow sent Amil skidding across the clearing, coughing up a spray of crimson.
"Absorption, huh?" Amil wheezed, wiping the blood from his chin. "You absorb and release. Tell me, lowborn... how much can your vessel actually hold?"
"Come and find out," Damien grinned, his skin beginning to glow with a dull, angry heat.
Amil blurred into motion, raining a relentless hail of blows. He knew there was a ceiling to Damien's power; he just had to hit it. He became a whirlwind of strikes, refusing to give Damien a single microsecond to vent the stored energy. Cracks began to spider-web across Damien's skin as his body reached its breaking point. Just as Amil channeled his remaining mana into a frost-coated finishing blow, a body crashed between them. The kinetic explosion blew them both backward.
"You fool!" Amil screamed at Lucien, but his voice was drowned out by Damien's primal roar.
Damien slammed his palms into the earth. A dome of pressurized air erupted, flattening the surrounding trees and hurling Lucien and Amil away. Damien vanished, another sonic crack echoing as his fist missed Lucien's skull by a fraction of an inch. Amil reappeared behind him, reaching to snap his neck, but Damien caught his wrist in a grip of iron and slammed him into the bedrock. Damien raised a heavy boot to crush Amil's skull, but a violent gust of violet wind knocked him off balance.
Lucien slid into a stance beside Amil. "We work together," Amil spat. Lucien just shrugged. "Fine by me."
Amil forged a jagged ice sword with the last of his strength. "Create an opening. I'll end this," he commanded. Lucien nodded and charged.
As Lucien closed the gap, Damien swung a haymaker with enough force to level a building. Lucien didn't dodge; he braced. The impact echoed with the sickening snap of bone as Lucien's left arm shattered, the force throwing him several meters back. But the distraction worked. Amil lunged, his blade whistling toward Damien's throat. Damien twisted mid-air, dodging the steel, and countered with a fist aimed squarely at Amil's heart—a strike backed by the full weight of his overloaded mana.
Amil tried to leap back, but a cold, firm hand pressed against his spine. Lucien shoved him forward, directly into the path of the executioner's blow.
The impact was catastrophic. Amil's chest caved inward as the energy detonated. His eyes met Lucien's for a split second before his body dissolved into particles of light. As he vanished, his ice sword fell. Lucien caught the hilt in mid-air and, using Damien's own forward momentum against him, plunged the blade through Damien's chest.
The arena went silent. Then, the world blurred as the transport took hold.
I opened my eyes to a sterile white ceiling. The bed was decent—not as soft as the one at the Moonstar estate, but a hell of a lot better than a jagged rock.
"Ah, His Majesty finally decides to join us," a voice hissed. I turned to see Amil. If looks could kill, I'd be back in the infirmary for a month. He was trembling with a quiet, murderous rage.
Did he really think our little alliance was a blood oath? Did he think we were going to play rock-paper-scissors once the commoner was gone?
"Answer me, half-blood," he glared.
"Can you just answer him so he shuts up?" another voice groaned. I didn't even bother moving my neck to see Xander.
"Do not speak for me, commoner!" Amil barked.
"My apologies, Princess," I muttered, my voice dripping with boredom. "I didn't mean to bruise your fragile ego."
Amil's face went from pale to a deep, insulted purple. "You lowlife—!"
"Seriously, dude," Xander cut him off. "Get some new material. The 'lowlife' stuff is getting old."
Thankfully, the door swung open. The nurses cleared us for discharge and told us the rankings would be live tomorrow. I ignored them all, heading straight for my temporary quarters. I fell onto the bed and pulled up my status panel.
Status Window
Name: Lucien Moonstar
Rank: 4 | Race: Human-Elf
Stats:
Agility 52
Strength 49
Intelligent 51
Durability 55
Mana. 80
Will 90
Abilities: [S] Chaos Monarch, [S] Undying Body
I guess I have Hope to thank for that Will stat boost. I closed the screen, ready to let the world fade out, but my communicator chirped. It was Hazel.
"Congratulations on your 'victory,'" she said, her voice dry. "Father isn't pleased. He says tricks are for the battlefield, but when the world is watching, you should bring honor to the family name."
"Okay," I replied, my eyes already half-closed. "I'll keep it in mind."
I turned off the call. Honor didn't win exams. I drifted off to sleep, wondering just how much more "fun" this academy was going to get.