Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 111: Clara vs Sixtie

It was the next day and the last day to finalise everything. Today, the rest of the second years would have their duels and the mvps would be chosen to fight their final duels the next day. The ten subordinates would be chosen then.

Currently, two girls stood on the stage in silver energy suits. One had silvery blonde hair with fair skin while the other had green hair with pale skin. Clara and Sixtie Zaladrac were up for their duel.

Sixtie had scaly yellow horns, chilly, reptilian green eyes and a long, thin black tail. Dark yellow scales adorned her face giving her sharp features. She was a demon.

"Fighters ready?"

"Yes!"

"Fight!"

Clara’s aura erupted in a silvery glow around her as her eyes turned white with light blue rings around the irises. Due to her advancement in rank, her affinity had received some upgrades and you could tell from the silver runes on her face and hands.

Sixtie was no different. Her yellow horns turned energy-like while her eyes glowed ominously. Space cracked around her as she activated her affinity. She had the Space affinity.

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BOOM!

The arena trembled as the duel began, both fighters springing into action. Clara moved with a dancer’s grace, her silvery glow illuminating the space around her like a beacon. Her white eyes narrowed in focus as the runes on her body pulsed with light. Across from her, Sixtie’s reptilian features twisted into a determined smirk, her green eyes cold and calculating. Her horns crackled with energy, and the fractured space around her shimmered with danger.

The audience leaned forward, the tension palpable.

Clara darted to the side, her movements fluid as she sent a mental probe toward Sixtie. Telepathy was her strength, and she planned to exploit it. Sixtie flinched for a split second, feeling the tendrils of Clara’s mind brushing against hers, but she gritted her teeth and retaliated. With a swipe of her clawed hand, a rift in space tore open, sending a wave of distorted energy crashing toward Clara.

The blonde leaped high into the air, flipping gracefully to avoid the attack. The distortion struck the ground behind her, creating a crater and sending shards of stone flying. The audience gasped, impressed by the power behind the strike.

"She’s not holding back," one of the second-years murmured, earning a nod from their peer.

Clara landed lightly, her silver aura intensifying. She reached out with her telepathy, trying to predict Sixtie’s next move. The demon girl’s mind was a fortress, guarded and elusive, but Clara could still pick up faint echoes of intent. Sixtie planned to attack again—this time from behind.

Clara spun on her heel just as Sixtie blinked out of existence and reappeared in a crackling shimmer, her claws aiming for Clara’s back. Clara’s hand shot out, and a telekinetic barrier erupted between them, catching Sixtie’s strike mid-air.

The clash sent shockwaves rippling through the arena.

"She blocked it!" someone in the audience exclaimed, their voice tinged with awe.

Sixtie snarled, her claws scraping against the shimmering barrier. "You’re fast, but let’s see how long you can keep up!" she hissed, vanishing again in a blur of fractured space.

Clara took a deep breath, centering herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, tuning into the rhythm of Sixtie’s movements. The space around her was shifting, bending unnaturally as Sixtie darted in and out of existence. Clara’s runes flared brighter, and when her eyes snapped open, a telepathic pulse exploded outward, briefly disrupting the arena’s energy.

Sixtie reappeared a few feet away, clutching her head. "What the—?" she growled, shaking off the mental assault.

Clara didn’t give her a chance to recover. She thrust her hands forward, and telekinetic waves surged toward Sixtie, forcing the demon to backpedal. Sixtie responded by tearing open another spatial rift, this one swallowing the telekinetic energy and spitting it back at Clara.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Clara narrowly avoided the counterattack, the energy grazing her side and leaving a scorch mark on her suit. She winced but didn’t falter.

"She’s struggling now," a someone whispered nervously.

"Just wait," a senior said with confidence. "Clara’s not done yet."

---

Sixtie pressed her advantage, her spatial attacks growing more erratic and dangerous. She opened multiple rifts at once, forcing Clara to dodge and weave through the chaotic battlefield. One rift tore through Clara’s defenses, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Get up, Clara!" someone from the audience shouted, their voice tinged with urgency.

Clara gritted her teeth, ignoring the sting of her scraped hands. She pushed herself up, her silver aura surging with renewed strength. "You think you’ve won?" she said, her voice calm despite the chaos. "You’re underestimating me."

Sixtie sneered. "You’re all talk. Let’s end this!"

The demon girl raised her clawed hand, a massive rift forming above the battlefield. The air grew heavy, the pressure intense as the audience held their breath. Sixtie brought the rift crashing down toward Clara, intending to overwhelm her with raw spatial energy.

Clara’s eyes flashed, and the runes on her body blazed with light. She thrust both hands upward, creating a dome-like telekinetic shield around herself. The rift collided with the barrier, creating a deafening explosion that shook the arena. For a moment, nothing could be seen through the dust and light.

When the dust settled, Clara was still standing, her shield flickering but intact. The audience erupted into cheers and applause.

"She’s incredible!"

"She blocked that?!"

Sixtie snarled in frustration, her green eyes glowing with rage. "Fine. Let’s see how you handle this!" She opened another rift, this one directly in front of her, and stepped through it.

Clara tensed, her telepathy warning her of an impending attack. Sixtie reappeared behind her, claws aimed for her back, but Clara was ready. She spun, her hand glowing with silvery energy, and unleashed a telekinetic blast at point-blank range.

The force sent Sixtie flying, slamming her into the arena wall. She coughed, struggling to stand, but Clara didn’t let up.

Clara’s aura surged, and she reached out with her mind, locking onto Sixtie’s thoughts. "You’re strong," she said, her voice echoing telepathically in Sixtie’s mind. "But you’re predictable."

Sixtie’s eyes widened in realization as Clara’s telepathy overwhelmed her. Her movements became sluggish, her spatial rifts faltering. Clara closed the distance between them, her silver runes glowing brighter than ever. With one final telekinetic strike, she sent Sixtie crashing to the ground, her energy dissipating.

---

The arena fell silent as the dust settled. Sixtie lay on the ground, defeated but conscious, her horns dim and her tail twitching weakly. Clara stood tall, her silver aura fading as she caught her breath. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, the sound echoing throughout the arena.

"What a fight!" Ethan announced, his voice filled with pride. "Clara wins!"

The audience cheered, some chanting Clara’s name while others discussed the incredible display of power and strategy.

Sixtie pushed herself up, groaning. "You got me," she admitted, a begrudging smile on her face. "Guess you’re stronger than you look."

Clara offered her a hand, her own smile warm but tired. "You made me work for it," she said, helping Sixtie to her feet.

The two girls exchanged a nod of mutual respect as the audience continued to cheer. It was a duel to remember, and Clara had proven herself as one of the second year’s strongest fighters.

...

The arena crackled with tension as Andrew Peters and Samuel Asuman stepped onto the stage, their expressions steely and determined. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, eager to see how the clash between the dark elf and the werewolf would unfold.

Andrew’s long white hair shimmered under the arena lights, a stark contrast to his dark skin and violet eyes that glowed faintly with otherworldly energy. He stood tall and poised, his shadow affinity swirling around him in dark tendrils that seemed alive, moving with an unsettling grace.

Samuel rolled his shoulders, his muscular frame taut with energy. His yellow eyes glowed with a predatory gleam, his brown hair tousled but still giving him a rugged charm. He cracked his knuckles, his confidence evident as his metal affinity caused the air around him to hum faintly with the promise of unyielding strength.

"Fighters ready?" Ethan’s voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd.

Both boys nodded, their gazes locked in silent challenge.

"Fight!"

---

Samuel moved first, his werewolf instincts driving him forward with blinding speed. His fists glowed as a layer of metallic sheen coated them, turning them into weapons of destruction. He lunged at Andrew, swinging with brutal precision.

Andrew sidestepped gracefully, his dark tendrils lashing out to intercept the attack. Shadows coiled around Samuel’s fists, slowing him momentarily, but the werewolf’s sheer strength broke through the restraint. The clash sent shockwaves rippling through the arena.

"Samuel’s speed is insane!" someone in the audience exclaimed.

"But look at Andrew," another whispered. "He’s so calm."

Indeed, Andrew remained eerily composed, his violet eyes calculating. He raised a hand, and the shadows around him thickened, spreading across the ground like an ominous tide. The arena dimmed slightly as the dark elf began weaving his affinity into the battlefield itself.

Samuel snarled, leaping into the air to avoid the encroaching darkness. "You think I’ll let you trap me?" he growled, slamming his fists together. A metallic shockwave erupted from the impact, dispersing some of the shadows. He descended rapidly, aiming to crush Andrew beneath his weight.

Andrew’s lips curved into a faint smile. With a flick of his wrist, the shadows surged upward, forming a spiked barrier. Samuel twisted mid-air, narrowly avoiding being impaled, but the maneuver left him open.

Andrew took the opportunity, sending a shadowy tendril whipping forward. It coiled around Samuel’s ankle and slammed him into the ground with a thunderous crash. The crowd winced at the impact, but Samuel was quick to recover, rolling to his feet and snarling.

---

Samuel roared, his body shifting slightly as his werewolf nature took over. Claws extended from his metallic fists, glinting ominously as he charged again. This time, he didn’t aim directly for Andrew but instead slashed at the shadows around him, tearing through the tendrils with brutal efficiency.

Andrew frowned slightly, his calm demeanor cracking just enough to show annoyance. He raised both hands, and the shadows shifted, transforming into spears that launched toward Samuel.

Samuel met them head-on, his metal-coated claws deflecting the dark projectiles with a series of loud clangs. He moved with feral grace, closing the distance between them once more.

Andrew ducked under a swipe, his movements fluid as he retaliated with a wave of darkness that enveloped Samuel. The werewolf growled in frustration, unable to see as the shadows clung to him like tar.

"Smart move," a senior commented from the stands. "Andrew’s turning this into a battle of attrition."

Inside the darkness, Samuel’s instincts sharpened. He closed his eyes, relying on his heightened senses to locate Andrew. The metallic sheen on his body spread further, forming an armor-like shell as he prepared for the next assault.

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Andrew circled his opponent silently, the shadows masking his presence. He extended a hand, and a dagger formed from pure darkness appeared in his grasp. He moved in for a precise strike, aiming for Samuel’s exposed side.

At the last second, Samuel spun, his claws slashing through the air. Andrew leaped back, narrowly avoiding the attack, but the shadows around Samuel dissipated from the force of his counter.

---

Both fighters paused, breathing heavily but refusing to back down. The audience was on the edge of their seats, the intensity of the duel captivating everyone.

"You’re tough," Samuel admitted, his voice a low growl. "But I’m not done yet."

Andrew inclined his head slightly. "Neither am I."

Samuel charged again, his claws glowing with molten energy as he infused his metal affinity with raw power. Each strike sent shockwaves through the arena, the ground cracking under the force of his attacks.

Andrew weaved through the onslaught, his movements precise and deliberate. He wasn’t just dodging—he was waiting. Observing.

When Samuel overextended on a particularly heavy strike, Andrew made his move. The shadows surged upward, forming chains that wrapped around Samuel’s arms and legs, locking him in place.

Samuel roared, struggling against the bindings. His metallic armor groaned as it tried to resist the shadows, but Andrew wasn’t finished.

The dark elf stepped forward, his violet eyes glowing brighter. The shadows coalesced into a massive blade above him, its edge gleaming with an ominous light. He brought it down with a swift, decisive motion.

Samuel’s armor shattered under the force of the strike, the impact sending him to his knees. The chains tightened, holding him firmly as Andrew stood over him, his victory clear.

---

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement shaking the arena.

"And the winner is Andrew Peters!" Ethan announced, his voice carrying over the noise.

Andrew released the shadows, allowing them to dissipate as he extended a hand to Samuel. "You fought well," he said, his tone respectful.

Samuel grunted, taking the offered hand and rising to his feet. "You’re stronger than you look," he admitted, a grudging smile on his face.

The two boys nodded at each other before turning to face the cheering crowd. It was a battle of strength versus strategy, and Andrew’s calculated approach had secured him the victory.