By the time the next battles were called, Vajraśila no longer sounded like an academy.
It sounded like war.
The Grand Arena trembled beneath constant elemental pressure as battle after battle unfolded across the formation fields. Lightning cracked against barriers. Flames roared skyward. Stone shattered. Water spiraled. Nature spread across the battlefield like living breath.
The preliminary eliminations were nearing their end.
And the remaining students had begun understanding something terrifying—
survival itself had become an achievement.
High above the arena, the formation screens shifted constantly as rankings recalculated after every victory.
Some names climbed higher across the overall standings.
Others began falling dangerously close to elimination.
The number of remaining contestants continued dropping.
The pressure inside the arena had become suffocating.
Then the next pairing appeared overhead.
Sasi Vyomtara — Overall Rank 2vsDraven Korr — Overall Rank 31
A ripple spread instantly through the nobles.
"Draven…"
"The Thunder Berserker…"
"He actually survived this long?"
Near the western terrace, Draven Korr rolled his shoulders once before stepping into the arena.
Tall.
Broad.
Scarred across one cheek.
Unlike many noble heirs, Draven carried none of the polished elegance taught within great houses. His dark combat robes were worn from repeated repairs, and the lightning around him lacked refinement.
But not power.
Never power.
Violent yellow-violet thunder cracked wildly around his body as he entered the battlefield like an approaching storm.
Across from him—
Sasi Vyomtara.
Calm.
Still.
Royal-blue lightning flowed quietly across his fingertips, illuminating the stone beneath his feet.
The contrast alone silenced the arena.
Wild thunder.
Royal thunder.
The barriers sealed.
The battle began.
Draven attacked first.
Thunder exploded beneath his feet as he launched forward with frightening speed, violent arcs of lightning tearing across the battlefield behind him. Several nobles flinched instinctively as the arena floor cracked beneath the pressure.
"He's fast—!"
A massive thunder strike descended toward Sasi's position.
Blue lightning flashed.
Sasi vanished.
The explosion shattered the stone where he had stood moments earlier.
Gasps erupted.
Draven turned instantly—
too late.
Royal-blue lightning curved behind him like flowing water before crashing directly into his shoulder. The impact sent him skidding violently across the battlefield.
But Draven smiled.
"You're good," he said while wiping blood from his lip.
Then thunder erupted again.
This time both fighters disappeared.
The arena became light itself.
Yellow-violet lightning collided against royal-blue currents again and again across the battlefield, strikes moving too quickly for many students to even follow.
Explosions shook the barriers.
The air smelled of ozone and burnt chakra.
Draven fought like a storm breaking apart mountains—
unpredictable,
violent,
relentless.
Sasi fought differently.
Every movement precise.
Every strike calculated.
No wasted chakra.
No wasted motion.
At first, several nobles thought Draven might actually overwhelm him through sheer aggression.
Then they realized something horrifying.
Sasi was adapting.
Every exchange became cleaner.
Sharper.
Faster.
Royal-blue lightning began intercepting Draven's attacks before they fully formed.
"He's reading him…"
Kael muttered quietly from the sidelines, jaw tightening slightly.
Draven roared as massive lightning erupted upward around him in chaotic spirals.
"THUNDER BREAKER!"
Violent yellow lightning descended toward Sasi from every direction simultaneously.
The arena shook.
Several students shielded their eyes.
Then—
blue light answered.
Not explosively.
Perfectly.
Sasi raised one hand.
Royal-blue lightning expanded outward in branching geometric arcs, weaving through Draven's attack with terrifying precision.
One strike.
Then twenty.
Then hundreds.
The storm split apart.
Silence struck the arena.
Draven's eyes widened slightly.
And Sasi moved.
A single royal-blue flash crossed the battlefield.
The next moment—
Sasi stood behind him.
Thunder echoed a heartbeat later.
Draven collapsed to one knee as the remaining lightning dispersed into the cold mountain air.
The arena fell silent.
Then erupted.
"He defeated him head-on—!"
"That final movement…"
"His control is insane…"
Draven looked upward briefly before laughing weakly through exhausted breathing.
"Tch… monsters."
Sasi turned back toward him calmly.
"No," he said quietly.
"You were strong."
For a moment—
Draven simply stared at him.
Then the healers entered the arena.
And the formation screen shifted again.
Aryan Vyomtara — Overall Rank 3vsEdrin Solmere — Overall Rank 52
The atmosphere changed immediately.
If Sasi's battle had felt violent—
this one felt heavy.
Edrin Solmere entered the battlefield slowly, long green robes moving gently beneath the mountain wind. Emerald chakra flowed around him in elegant currents while the faint image of a Verdant Crane appeared briefly behind his shoulders.
The nobles watched carefully.
Unlike many remaining students, Edrin carried reputation.
Control.
Discipline.
Some even believed he possessed the highest nature affinity among the younger noble generation—
until Aryan arrived.
Soft green chakra flowed quietly around Aryan as he stepped into the arena.
Not violently.
Not aggressively.
Naturally.
Like breathing.
The barriers sealed.
For several seconds—
neither moved.
Wind crossed the battlefield quietly as leaves drifted between them.
Then Edrin raised one hand.
Nature erupted.
Roots burst upward across the arena floor in twisting spirals while emerald leaves sharpened into blades around him. Massive chakra vines crossed the battlefield like living serpents.
Beautiful.
Deadly.
Controlled.
The nobles leaned forward immediately.
"Amazing…"
"That level of refinement…"
Even instructors nodded slightly.
Then Aryan moved.
The battlefield changed instantly.
Not through force.
Through presence.
The roots approaching him slowed.
The leaves drifting through the air shifted direction.
Nature itself seemed to hesitate around him.
Edrin's expression changed slightly for the first time.
Aryan raised his hand gently.
And the arena bloomed.
Countless luminous green leaves appeared across the battlefield like falling stars, moving slowly at first before accelerating through impossible angles.
Edrin countered immediately.
Roots collided against leaves.
Vines twisted through the battlefield.
Nature chakra filled the arena completely as green light illuminated the barriers from within.
But gradually—
the difference became visible.
Edrin was controlling nature chakra.
Aryan was harmonizing with it.
His techniques flowed too naturally.
Too smoothly.
No resistance.
No force.
As if the battlefield itself wanted to obey him.
Several nobles felt chills without understanding why.
Edrin realized it first.
His attacks were becoming slower near Aryan.
Not weakened.
Yielding.
"He's not commanding chakra…"
Edrin whispered quietly.
"He's listening to it…"
Aryan's green eyes reflected the glowing battlefield calmly.
Then the leaves moved.
Thousands of luminous fragments curved through the arena simultaneously, bypassing every defensive vine before stopping inches from Edrin's throat.
Silence.
The battlefield froze.
Edrin stared quietly at the countless leaves surrounding him.
Then slowly—
he lowered his hands.
"I concede."
The arena remained silent for several heartbeats before whispers exploded everywhere.
"He forced Edrin to surrender…"
"Without even overwhelming him…"
"That was terrifying…"
Aryan simply bowed respectfully before turning away.
No arrogance.
No celebration.
Only stillness.
High above the arena, the formation screens began recalculating once more.
The remaining numbers continued falling.
Then finally—
The entire arena quieted.
One by one, names appeared across the massive formation screen overhead.
The sixty-four surviving contenders.
Some students nearly collapsed in relief.
Others stared upward in disbelief.
Several eliminated nobles silently turned away toward the mountain paths leading home.
And among the glowing overall rankings above Vajraśila—
the triplets still remained at the top.
The preliminary eliminations were over.
But survival alone still did not guarantee admission into Vajraśila Academy.
Tomorrow—
the true tournament would begin.
And every noble still standing had already proven one thing.
They were dangerous.