My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 1020: Dreams of the Past: Battle for the spots (2/3)

Chapter 1020: Dreams of the Past: Battle for the spots (2/3)

BOOM!

The sheer impact shattered the arena floor, sending cracks sprawling in all directions. Debris flew into the air, dust thickened—but Arjuna was already gone.

A blur of blue.

He had leaped back, landing effortlessly on a floating platform of energy that appeared out of thin air.

Eon barely had time to register his movement before—

BANG!

A radiant arrow shot forward, point-blank.

Her instincts screamed.

She twisted at the last second—but not fast enough. The arrow struck her shoulder, and an intense burst of energy sent her skidding backward.

Her boots dug into the cracked stone, leaving deep furrows as she forced herself to a stop.

"Nice shot," she grinned, rolling her shoulder.

Arjuna’s bow lowered slightly. His sharp gaze lingered on her, the gears in his mind turning.

"Had you not dodged my first volley of arrows, you wouldn’t have been grinning this way," he finally said.

Eon twirled her mace, the movement effortless. "Please, I dodged them using my own ability," she replied. "By the way, your arrows didn’t hurt as much as I expected. So, don’t worry. I won’t be dodging by using time manipulation anymore."

Arjuna exhaled, his lips curling into a half-smile. "We’ll see about that."

With a long leap over her head, Arjuna landed on another energy-floating platform, pulling back his bowstring. The air trembled. A dozen arrows formed at once.

Arjuna’s hands blurred.

Twelve arrows. All drawn, aimed, and loosed within a single heartbeat.

Eon didn’t falter. Instead, her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she mumbled. "Go, Tezca."

Her Hourglass rotated again, and the white sands of time slowly started falling toward the other bulb.

Time slowed around her.

The world became sluggish—the arrows trailed glowing streaks through the air, moving as if through water.

She dodged the first by a hair’s breadth. Then the second. Then, the third.

Every movement was precise and calculated. She ducked, sidestepped, twisted—each arrow missing her by mere inches.

And then— she vanished.

Arjuna’s pupils dilated. "Where?"

Before he could react—

BOOM!

Eon reappeared behind him, her mace crashing against his bow.

A shockwave rippled across the arena as their weapons clashed. Arjuna flew down from the floating energy platform and landed on the ground. Sparks flew, dust billowed, and the ground cracked beneath them. Arjuna gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he held his footing.

As Eon continued to push him back, Arjuna shouted. "Hey, that’s cheating. You said you won’t use time manipulation and evade my arrows."

"I said I wouldn’t do it. I didn’t promise it," Eon replied, her smiles widening. She then poured her soul energy into her arms to increase the force as she continued to push him back.

Arjuna, who was skidding back without being able to fight against Eon in physique, moved back instead to create a gap.

For the next thirty seconds, they exchanged relentless, high-speed blows—mace against bow, brute force against precision.

Every time Arjuna tried to create distance, Eon was there.

Every time Eon tried to land a decisive blow, Arjuna parried.

Neither gave an inch. Neither backed down.

Then—

Ding!

The bell rang.

The battle stopped.

A moment of silence in the arena. Then—

The crowd exploded into cheers.

Eon exhaled, rolling her shoulders. Her body ached, her breath was heavy—but her grin never wavered.

Arjuna let out a small chuckle, lowering his bow.

"A draw," the proctor announced.

Eon smirked, spinning her mace before resting it against her shoulder. "Not bad," she said. "But next time, I’m taking the win."

Arjuna shook his head, his smile unreadable. "We’ll see."

*

A few matches afterward.

It was the turn for Group C. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"Student Arzael Garcia of Special Division and student Bheema of Special Division. Come forward." The Proctor, Catherine, announced.

The arena trembled under the weight of two titanic presences.

On one side stood Bheema, a warrior whose sheer size and power made the very ground beneath him seem fragile. His muscles rippled like coiled steel, veins bulging as he cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like rolling thunder. His presence alone was enough to send shivers through senior students and even the staff of the academy. And a fun fact: he is only 11 years old.

On the opposite end was Rael, a stark contrast to the behemoth before him. Cloaked in his usual black-and-gold robes, he stood lazily with his mutated Death Scythe resting against his shoulder. The blade’s golden glow pulsed in contrast with the inky black tendrils swirling around its edges—light and darkness entwined in perfect harmony.

Bheema let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "All that fancy power," he scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "But can you take a real hit?"

Rael tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. "I won’t need to."

Ding!

The battle began.

BOOM!

Bheema exploded forward, his sheer momentum shattering the stone platform beneath him. His charge was a blur of raw power, moving far too fast for someone of his massive build.

Rael barely had time to react—

CRACK!

A monstrous fist met scythe, sending a thunderous shockwave rippling through the arena. The sheer force sent Rael skidding backward, his boots dragging deep grooves into the ground. His arms trembled from the impact, the force jarring his bones despite his attempt to soften the blow.

But before he could even catch his breath—

Bheema was already on top of him.

BAM!

A second earth-shattering punch came hurtling towards him. Rael twisted his body just in time, barely avoiding the strike.

The air exploded from the sheer force of the missed hit, leaving a crater where he had just been standing. Dust and debris erupted into the sky.

Rael’s golden eyes flickered with amusement. He exhaled, shaking out his arms.

"He’s fast," Rael admitted, the corner of his lips curving up. "But not fast enough."

Bheema slammed his fists together, the sound echoing across the arena like a war drum. "Let’s change that."

Rael spun his scythe, the dark mist around its blade intensifying. Every rotation left a streak of golden and black energy in the air.

Then— e vanished.

Bheema’s eyes widened. "Wha..."

SLASH!

As Bheema’s eyes wandered around, a deep gash appeared on his shoulder, dark blood trickling down.

Rael stood behind him, his scythe dripping with spectral energy. His attack had landed before Bheema had even realized it. Bheema gritted his teeth, flexing his shoulder. He barely flinched at the pain.

"You can use speed tricks all you want," Bheema growled, rolling his neck. "But this fight isn’t over."

He suddenly punched the ground.

BOOM!

The earth beneath Rael ruptured, sending shockwaves in every direction. The force launched Rael into the air, his balance momentarily disturbed.

Bheema grinned.

He bent his knees and—

A blur of pure muscle and raw power shot toward Rael, fist glowing with spirit energy, a meteor ready to erase everything in its path.

Rael’s eyes narrowed. He twisted mid-air, bringing his scythe down in a full-moon arc, aiming for the charging opponent.

BAM!

The fist was met with the scythe, sending a shockwave through the arena, cracking through the battlefield, shaking the stands, and deafening the audience.

For a second, it didn’t seem like a battle between a 9-year-old and an 11-year-old or two 5-star soul realm Arcana Masters. It looked like a battle between two 7-star experts.

Both fighters were sent flying in opposite directions.

They landed on opposite ends of the arena; Bheema was panting while Rael looked calm, and their gazes locked.

Bheema wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and grinned. "That all you got?"

Rael spun his scythe, the mist around it intensifying. His expression darkened. "Not even close."

Taking a deep breath, he let go of the scythe. "Soul skill: Divine Arcane Wrath."

A surge of necrotic energy erupted from his body, black mist spiraling into the sky like a storm. The ground beneath him cracked as ghostly spectral arms emerged from the otherworldly dimension, their eerie fingers clawing toward the heavens.

The crowd gasped for a moment before everything was drawn into, a golden-black aura swirling around the scythe and Rael’s body.

Even Eon couldn’t help but narrow her eyes, surprised by the soul skill that was supposed to just boost the scythe’s power, not showing such advert effects. "Perhaps, it is because of the merge of that divine sword?" She couldn’t help but wonder, crossing her arms tightly to the chest.

Meanwhile, Bheema, who prided himself on his unwavering resolve, felt his instincts scream.

One of Rael’s irises flickered golden for a moment. His scythe pulsed with pure, unfiltered death energy.

"This is where the real fight begins," Rael said in a distorted tone.

Then—

He vanished.

Bheema’s muscles tensed—

SLASH!

A cut appeared on his chest.

Then another.

And another.

Rael flickered in and out of existence, his movements ethereal, untouchable. Each time he reappeared, a new wound was etched into Bheema’s body.

"Argghhh!"

Bheema roared, swinging wildly. His fists tore through the air but never found their target.

Rael finally reappeared above him, his scythe raised high.

"Game over."

BOOM!

The scythe came crashing down, striking Bheema with a devastating force that sent him spiraling into the ground.

The entire arena shook. Dust exploded. Cracks spread like a spider’s web across the battlefield.

Silence.

Then—

The Proctor raised his hand and announced. "Winner: Azrael!"

The students erupted in deafening cheers.

Bheema lay on his back, chest heaving. His body was bruised, bleeding—but his eyes still burned with determination.

Rael stepped forward, extending a hand. Bheema grunted before clasping it, allowing Rael to pull him up. "You won. I accept that your win against my brother is not by our stroke of misfortune. You earned my respect, Azrael," Bheema admitted, cracking his neck. After a brief pause, he added. "But next time, I’ll defeat you for sure.

Rael smirked. "I will win again." Bheema let out a booming laugh. "We’ll see about that."

As the cheers continued to echo, both fighters knew—

This wasn’t the last time they would clash.

Not by a long shot.