Thirteen students stood in front of the wooden box.
The dirt arena was quiet. The heavy breathing of the surviving freshmen filled the air. The medical teams had cleared away the bodies from the second round. Fresh white chalk marked the remaining sparring circles.
Instructor Thorne held out the square box.
"Round three," Thorne said. "Six matches. One free pass. Draw."
The line moved. A boy from the capital reached in and pulled the blank piece of paper. He let out a loud, sudden laugh of relief. He stepped out of the line and walked to the wall to rest. The bye was gone. Everyone else had to fight.
Elin pulled her chit. She unfolded it with shaking, bandaged hands. "Number two," she whispered.
Luna drew number four. Rian drew number six. Jin reached into the dark hole and pulled number one.
"Enter the rings," Thorne commanded.
Elin walked toward circle two. She held her dull iron daggers tightly. Her fast-twitch muscles were burning with severe fatigue, but her Foundation Level 7 core still held enough Aether for one more sprint.
Her opponent stepped into the ring. He was a tall, lanky boy from the Castout Empire. He stood completely barefoot in the dirt. He held a thick, heavy iron staff in both hands.
Elin lowered her stance. She planned to use the exact same strategy she used against the boy with the warhammer. Stay outside his reach. Force him to swing the heavy staff. Drain his oxygen, then strike when he misses.
"Begin," the referee shouted.
Elin engaged her speed legacy. She pushed off her back foot. She blurred forward, moving instantly to the boy's right flank.
The tall boy did not swing his iron staff. He did not try to track her movements with his eyes.
He lifted his bare right foot and slammed it violently into the ground. A thick, heavy pulse of yellow Aether shot down his leg and directly into the dirt arena.
He possessed an Earth-type Gene Legacy.
The physical properties of the ring changed instantly. The hard, dry, packed dirt inside the white chalk boundary liquefied. It turned into a pool of deep, thick, wet mud.
Elin was in the middle of a high-speed sprint. Her heavy leather boot hit the mud.
She immediately sank up to her ankle. Her forward momentum betrayed her completely. Speed requires friction. A runner needs a solid floor to push against. Without traction, speed is just a massive loss of balance.
Elin stumbled forward. Her arms flailed in the air as she tried to stop herself from falling face-first into the wet mud.
The tall boy did not hesitate. He had trapped his prey.
He took one step through the mud. His bare feet were completely used to the terrain. He swung the thick iron staff like a heavy club.
The blunt iron slammed directly into Elin's exposed ribs.
Crack.
The sound of breaking bone was sharp and loud. The sheer kinetic force of the heavy staff lifted Elin entirely out of the mud. She flew sideways through the air. She crossed the white chalk line and crashed hard into the dry dirt outside the ring.
She rolled twice and stopped. She curled into a tight ball, clutching her side. She gasped for air. She could not breathe. She was completely incapacitated.
"Winner," the referee declared.
Jin stood in circle one. He watched the medical team rush over to Elin with a stretcher.
He analyzed the fight with complete detachment. Elin relied on a single biological advantage. When the tall boy altered the environmental variables, her entire strategy collapsed. She had no backup plan. It was a fatal logistical error. Jin logged the data. Never fight an Earth legacy user on raw dirt.
He turned his attention back to his own opponent.
A lean, highly muscular boy stood across from him in circle one. The boy held two short, dull iron axes. He looked at Jin's massive falchion. He looked at the deep, crushed dent in the tower shield sitting near the wall. He knew blocking was a death sentence.
"Begin," the referee shouted.
The axe boy immediately rushed forward, but he did not run in a straight line. He zig-zagged sharply. He moved to Jin's left, aiming to slip entirely outside the vertical drop zone of the heavy broadsword.
Jin raised his massive iron blade high above his right shoulder. He engaged his Level 9 core.
He stepped forward and chopped down.
The axe boy smirked. He saw the telegraphed strike. He sidestepped hard to his right, leaning forward to bury his blunt axes into Jin's exposed ribs while the heavy sword buried itself in the dirt.
But Jin did not commit the blade to the dirt.
He let gravity pull the heavy iron down for the first half of the swing to build massive momentum. The blade reached chest level. The air whistled violently.
Then, Jin locked his thick elbows. He engaged the dense muscles in his forearms and twisted his wrists inward with brutal force.
He manipulated the momentum mid-swing. The vertical drop snapped instantly into a horizontal sweep.
The axe boy's smirk vanished. His eyes went wide with pure horror. He was already moving forward. He leaned directly into the new path of the sweeping iron. He had no time to change direction.
The flat, heavy side of the falchion slammed directly into the boy's stomach.
The air left the boy's lungs in a loud, wet rush. He folded completely in half over the thick iron blade. Jin pushed his arms forward, launching the boy backward.
The boy hit the dirt hard. He slid across the ring and stopped just short of the chalk line. He lay flat on his back, completely paralyzed by the massive blow to his diaphragm. His eyes rolled back. He was unconscious.
"Winner," the referee yelled.
Jin lowered his sword. He walked out of the ring. He did not need a second strike. He walked back to the cold steel wall.
The rest of the third round finished quickly.
Rian survived his match. He leaned heavily on his ash-wood spear. Blood dripped from his nose and a large purple bruise covered his left eye, but he managed to thrust his blunt spear tip into his opponent's throat, crushing the windpipe just enough to force a surrender.
Luna also survived. She fought a boy with a longsword. She did not panic. She threw her heavy iron chain. When the boy tried to dodge it, she warped the space around the iron ball, hooking it sharply into the side of his knee. When he fell, she pulled the chain back and hit him squarely in the temple.
The medical team carried Elin away on the stretcher. She looked up at Jin, Rian, and Luna as she passed them. She gave a weak, apologetic nod.
Jin nodded back. She was eliminated from the tournament bracket, but she was alive. Her broken ribs would heal in a few days with the Academy's green medicine. She had simply hit her current operational limit.
Instructor Thorne walked back to the center of the arena. He kicked the dirt off his heavy boots. He picked up the square wooden box.
"Round three is over," Thorne announced. His voice echoed off the cold steel walls. "Seven students remain. The bracket is shrinking. Three matches. One free pass."
Jin gripped the leather handle of his heavy falchion. The Aether in his core was draining fast, but he was still fully operational. The semi-finals were next. The final acquisition was in sight.