The countdown timer hanging above the center of the arena was a big.

05:00.

The numbers shifted with a heavy hum, dropping instantly to 04:59.

To the thousands of people watching in stunned silence from the rows, five minutes was nothing. But down on the broken, sand-covered stone of the ring, surrounded by the eight remaining top first-years of the academy, Leo knew five minutes was a long time.

Do not push the Energy Siphon, Leo reminded himself, his jaw tight. He remembered too well what happened last time he pushed his bloodline too hard — the cracked core, his body eating itself from the inside, and Seris having to stab him just to stop the explosion.

Let the body adapt. Just hold on.

The leftover light power from Arthur’s earlier hit was still buzzing under his skin, but his healing and mana generation were fighting back, slowly fixing the small tears in his muscles and trickling power back into his core.

It was a race against a clock that did not care if he lived or died.

"Do not give him space to breathe!" Princess Cordelia’s voice cut across the arena.

She did not wait. Her pride as a royal was on the line. Her rapier lunged forward, and the air inside the ring grew very thick.

Her Sovereign Wind pushed down, dropping a heavy weight onto Leo’s shoulders. Leo knew about this power from the game — it was the scary force that would make her the Empress of Wind later in the story. Right now, that pressure was trying to stick his limbs to the floor.

Leo did not try to fight the wind head-on.

His sword style was not built on clean forms. It was a rough, unpredictable rhythm meant for survival. He forced a quick Volt Step, black lightning snapping against the sand as he burst sideways through the heavy air.

But as he broke through the wind, a shadow came from the dust on his left.

Riven appeared without a sound, his eyes gleaming with a cold, desperate need to win. Riven was a very proud person who admired pure strength, but he hated losing. He wanted to escape his grandfather’s big shadow, and beating the academy’s anomaly was the only way to do it.

To prove he was more than just the heir of House Ashford.

"You’re mine, Leo!" Riven hissed, his dual daggers slicing toward Leo’s ribs from his blind spot, coated in thick shadow affinity.

Leo did not back down. He brought his sword up, the dark steel fully out now as he swung in a hard counter.

Clang!

Metal hit metal, sparks flying into the sand. Leo used the force of his hit to tilt his wrist, dragging the edge of his blade down to push Riven’s daggers out of line. But before he could follow through, a big shadow blocked out the light above.

Alice came down like a rock, her massive longsword held in both hands. Her Reave power flared in angry, jagged red lines across the heavy steel. Her raw physical strength, from her hidden dragon blood, kicked up sand all around as she brought the blade down.

Leo’s eyes went wide. Damn it, this is dangerous. If I try to block this head-on, she will crush me into the dirt.

He immediately used the active part of his Flash Instinct.

Thump.

His heart beat once, and his view of the world slowed to a crawl. The falling longsword slowed in his sight, giving his brain a moment to see where it was going.

But the sudden rush of mana into his senses made a sharp pain burst behind his eyes, his vision blurring from the strain.

Seeing the opening in slow motion, Leo did not pull back. He used a quick Starlight Step to glide past the falling edge of her blade, stepping into her guard.

Time snapped back to normal.

Alice’s heavy sword roared past his shoulder, hitting the stone ground with a loud crash that sent pieces flying. Leo drove a hard kick into her side, the hit shaking through her guard and forcing her to stumble back into the dust.

"Now!" Marius shouted, keeping his steel sword raised as he watched the sides, acting as the team’s anchor.

A flash of grey hair and silver wolf ears cut through the dust.

Nyra lunged, her claws carrying great strength as she swung down in a hard cross-slash. Leo brought his sword up, blocking two fast strikes before spinning on his heel to deliver a heavy, lightning-filled backhand that sent the beastkin sliding across the arena floor.

03:34.

Leo let out a ragged breath, his chest heaving. The timer was ticking, but his body was taking damage with every hit. He was not unbeatable. He had power, affinities, and a bloodline that kept him going, but that didn’t mean he was invincible.

He was still just a teenager fighting the best the world had to offer, and they were pushing him to his limit.

A sudden chill hit the back of his neck.

Through the dust, a clear, shining serpent made of liquid light lunged for his legs.

Amelia stood thirty steps away, her silver-violet eyes fixed on him with a mix of determination and guilt. Her staff glowed with a deep blue light. As the Apostle of the Spirit Queen, her magic did not just wet the ground — it aimed at the flow of energy.

The water serpent was not trying to bite his flesh. It was made to wrap around his legs and slow the mana inside his paths, making his moves slower.

Amelia... Leo thought, his grip on Tempest tightening. Her spirit control has gotten tighter. She isn’t hesitating anymore.

He could not dodge the snake this time. His ankles felt heavy from using his footwork so much.

With a low curse, Leo fully unsheathed Tempest. The long, dark steel caught the gold light of the arena, and he let his Soul Flame light up along the edge.

The dark fire, with its hollow purple core, did not give off heat, but the moment the blade cut through the middle of the water snake, the liquid shape did not just splash — it fell apart. The Soul Flame ate the intent and power that held the spell together, turning Amelia’s strong magic into a harmless mist that covered the floor.

But the mist was exactly what the others were waiting for.

Boom!

A gold light tore the mist in half.

Arthur came straight through the middle, his messy black hair flying.

His broadsword came down in a perfect, clean overhead strike. There was no doubt in his stance, no fear left in his golden eyes. He was the Chosen Hero, and right now, he was treating Leo with real respect: fighting him with everything he had.

Leo met the strike head-on, swinging Tempest upward in a brutal, diagonal parry.

screeeeech—

The sound of the two blades grinding against each other was deafening, a massive shower of bright sparks exploding between their faces.

Arthur’s pressure was heavy. His Sword affinity made his blade feel like part of his body. His balance never broke, not even by a little.

Arthur’s Sword affinity made him control his blade better than anyone. His balance was perfect, his footwork never broke, and every swing carried the weight of years of training. Leo could feel his knees bending under the pressure of that skill.

In pure swordsmanship, Arthur was simply better. He had the foundation, the control, and the grace that Leo couldn’t match with his rough, instinctive style.

"You have gotten stronger, Leo," Arthur said through his teeth, his arms steady as he pushed down against Leo’s guard. "But you are carrying too much strain."

I know, Leo thought, his single open eye bloodshot as he stared into Arthur’s golden gaze. But... I also know exactly how you fight. I played as you for hundreds of hours. I know your balance. I know your favorite next move.

Instead of pushing back against the broadsword, Leo suddenly twisted his wrist, using a small space fold right where their blades crossed. The space between the metals shifted by a tiny bit, making Arthur’s broadsword slide off Leo’s guard and hit the dirt.

Arthur’s eyes went wide as his balance broke for a second.

But Leo did not get to strike back.

The real pressure came. A silver light flashed at the edge of his vision.

Roan was suddenly right in front of him. The elf prince had not even used his Time power yet — his pure battle skill alone was enough to see Leo’s recovery time. He had a wild, crazy grin on his face, his silver-storm eyes burning with pure excitement.

"Let us see you handle this!" Roan laughed, his crystal spear becoming a fast blur of thrusts and sweeps.

Clang! Clack! Clang!

Leo was pushed back at once, his dark blade meeting the spear tip in a fast, metallic rhythm.

Roan’s spear was very fast and very precise, aiming for his shoulders, his throat, his legs. Leo blocked a thrust meant for his neck, but Roan quickly twisted the shaft, using his crazy speed to whip the blunt end sideways, hitting Leo across the ribs.

Crack.

The sound of Leo’s ribs breaking echoed in his own ears. The force of the hit lifted him off his feet, sending him sliding five yards across the sand until his back hit the broken stone wall with a dull, heavy thud.

01:15.

"Leo!" Amelia cried out from the distance, her staff lowering slightly before she caught herself.

Leo sat against the broken stone, huffing violently, his breath rattling in his chest. His white hair was matted with sweat and dirt. He reached up, his fingers touching his ribs, feeling the shaky pulse of his mana channels under his skin.

The pain was a cold, sharp knife that made every breath feel like drowning.

Damn it... he thought, his vision blurring a little as he looked at the eight figures closing the distance, their weapons raised, their faces serious. One minute left. Just one more minute.

"Get up, Celestial," Riven said, his daggers dripping with shadow power as he stepped forward with Marius. "The five minutes are not over yet."

Marius stood beside Riven, his sword held steady, his eyes looking down at Leo not with hate, but with quiet respect. He is still standing after all of that. He really is an anomaly.

Leo looked up at them, a ragged, painful breath leaving his throat. He could feel his earring pulsing against his ear, keeping the dark, hungry whispers of the Soul Flame from taking over his mind, keeping his thoughts cold.

He had taken their hits.

He had felt the weight of Arthur’s sword, the crazy speed of Roan’s spear, the crushing power of Alice’s strength, and the precision of Riven’s shadows. And inside his core, under the pain and tiredness, his body was finally learning, mapping their strengths, reading the rhythm of their attacks.

He did not just want to survive this. He wanted to remember every detail of this fight.

With a low, rough groan, Leo used the stone wall behind him to pull himself back onto his feet. His uniform was in pieces, his skin was covered in cuts and bruises, and his left arm was shaking from the force of Roan’s spear.

But as he raised Tempest one last time, his fingers locking tight against the hilt, a wild, jagged grin broke across his face once more.

The timer above their heads glinted in the dust, the numbers ticking down to the final stretch.

01:00.

"Let’s continue...," Leo whispered, his voice flat, serious, and completely empty of fear as the black lightning and Soul Flames began to hiss around his boots again.