The sky literally burned.
It wasn't a metaphor. It wasn't poetry. Serene Sinclair pointed her hand toward the synthetic, bruised clouds, and the atmosphere simply ignited.
A shockwave of pure, unadulterated thermal energy exploded outward from the Fort Core, expanding in a massive, localized dome. The remaining Corrupted Wyverns, which had been circling for another dive, didn't even have time to shriek. The heat was so absolute, so overwhelmingly dense, that the moisture in the air vaporized instantly. The beasts hit the thermal dome and simply dissolved into ash, their dark mana burning away before Nyxaris could even sniff it.
Down on the ground, the heat wave washed over the battlefield like a physical wall. Aria's undead army collapsed into dust, their structural integrity failing under the sheer temperature. The Troll Vanguard, caught in the epicenter of the blast outside the gate, had their heavy iron armor fused directly to their skin before they dropped dead, cooked from the inside out.
And then, as quickly as it had erupted, the fire vanished.
The gray fog was gone. The clouds were gone. The sky above our fortress was a clear, crystal blue, wiped entirely clean.
I stood on the wall, leaning heavily on my rusty sword, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My uniform was scorched, my hair smelled like burnt ozone, and my muscles were trembling so violently I thought my knees were going to buckle.
Down in the courtyard, Serene slowly lowered her hand. The golden glow faded from her eyes, returning to their natural, sharp emerald. She swayed slightly, catching herself against the Fort Core.
"Well," she breathed, her voice raspy. "That worked."
"You... you vaporized the entire wave," Trent stammered, staring at the empty, smoking wasteland beyond the shattered gate. He was still sitting on the ground, clutching his bandaged ribs. "I didn't even know fire could do that."
"It can when you feed it four thousand coins worth of raw mana," Aria said, walking gracefully down the stairs, looking entirely unfazed by the localized apocalypse we had just witnessed. She patted Serene gently on the shoulder. "Excellent execution, President."
Serene managed a tired but triumphant smirk.
⟨Wave Three Complete. Area Secured.⟩
The system's voice echoed, breaking the quiet aftermath.
⟨Calculating Final Clear Times and Assigning Ranks...⟩
The giant holographic leaderboard materialized for the third time. We all gathered around the core, our eyes fixed on the top spot. If we dropped rank now, after exhausting almost all our resources and nearly blowing up our own fort, it would be a disaster.
The names populated.
⟨Rank 1: Independent Faction (Representative: Serene Ivy Sinclair) - Clear Time: 01:45:12⟩
⟨Rank 2: Lady Aurora's Faction - Clear Time: 01:58:30⟩
⟨Rank 3: The Crimson Vow Faction - Clear Time: 02:05:15⟩
⟨Rank 4: Second Prince Faction (Representative: Arey De Solaria) - Clear Time: 02:10:45⟩
⟨Rank 5: Third Prince Faction (Representative: Aurelius De Solaria) - Clear Time: 02:18:20⟩
...
"We held it," Lira whispered, covering her mouth with her hands.
"Look at the shifts below us," I said, a genuine, tired laugh escaping my chest. I sheathed Nyxaris, who was currently completely comatose, digesting a concerning amount of wyvern souls. "Lady Aurora jumped to second. And Aurelius dropped to fifth."
"Arey burned out his artificial units in round two, leaving him exposed to the flying wave," Aria analyzed smoothly, her eyes dancing with political delight. "And Aurelius... well. He probably tried to protect his artificial units again. A noble sentiment, but tactically flawed against an aerial assault. The cracks in the royal factions are turning into chasms."
"Let them crack," Serene said, her voice regaining its usual icy edge. "We just proved we don't need them."
Ding!
A massive, ornate platinum chest materialized in the courtyard. It practically hummed with high-density mana.
⟨Congratulations to the Conqueror Team. Awarding Base Clear Coins: 3,000. Awarding Rank 1 Bonus: 5,000 Coins.⟩
⟨Total Faction Balance: 8,000 Coins.⟩
"Eight thousand," Trent breathed, his eyes wide. "We could buy a small army for the Special Round."
"We aren't fighting the Special Round," Serene said, turning away from the chest.
We all stared at her.
"What?" I asked, frowning. "Ten minutes ago, you said we were absolutely doing the Special Round to get the relic advantage for tomorrow."
"That was before I channeled the equivalent of a minor sun through my circulatory system, Leonhart," Serene replied dryly, gesturing to her slightly trembling hands. "I am tapped out. The Overclock Module burned my reserves to the absolute bottom. If we fight a Boss Monster now, I will be throwing firecrackers at it."
"I am also significantly depleted," Lira admitted, raising a hand timidly. "Healing Trent took a lot out of me, and maintaining the area-of-effect stamina buffs during the wyvern dive nearly emptied my core."
I looked at Aria.
"I have mana," the Silver Rose smiled pleasantly. "But my curses require time to erode high-tier targets. If a Boss Monster charges us, I cannot hold it alone."
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. They were right. We were battered, bruised, and running on fumes.
"System," I called out, looking up at the gray sky. "Give us a status report on the other factions."
⟨Fifteen factions have been eliminated due to Core destruction or Representative death,⟩ the genderless voice replied instantly. ⟨The remaining fifteen factions have been offered the option to participate in the Special Round.⟩
⟨Current Acceptances: Zero.⟩
"No one is taking the bait," Aria noted. "They're all too exhausted from the wyverns. They are prioritizing survival for tomorrow's Second Trial."
"Exactly," Serene nodded. "There's no shame in a strategic retreat. We hold Rank 1. We have eight thousand coins carrying over. We leave."
I stood there, looking at the platinum chest, then at my exhausted team. I knew she was making the logical, rational, commander-level decision.
But logic is boring.
And my rusty sword was currently experiencing a massive sugar crash and screaming in my head to wake up and eat something big.
"System," I asked, "If we initiate the Special Round and fail, are we eliminated from the tournament?"
⟨Negative. The Special Round is entirely optional. Failure results in immediate teleportation back to the Academy Grounds with no penalty to your current standing or accumulated coins.⟩
I looked back at Serene. A slow, reckless grin spread across my face.
"It's a free roll," I said.
"Rias, no," Lira panicked. "Trent is hurt!"
"I have eight thousand coins," I countered, tapping the Faction Shop interface that still hovered near the core. "I can buy a small army of heavy knights to act as a meat wall. I can buy an array of automated siege ballistas. And," I pulled the carved wooden totem out of my pocket, twirling it between my fingers, "we have the [Sovereign's Echo]. A one-shot tactical nuke."
Serene crossed her arms, her emerald eyes narrowing. "You want to fight a Boss Monster by yourself, using summoned units and a piece of wood."
"I want the relic reward," I corrected her. "Aurelius is going to come back swinging tomorrow. Arey is going to be out for blood. If we have an unknown, special-tier artifact from this round, it gives us an unpredictable edge."
"He's entirely motivated by spite," Aria said to Serene, looking highly amused. "I say we let him try. If we die, we wake up in our comfortable beds."
Serene stared at me for a long time. She looked at my scorched uniform, the tear in my sleeve, and the casual, borderline arrogant way I was holding the wooden totem.
"If you get us killed and it somehow hurts my political standing," she said coldly, "I will personally set your dormitory on fire."
"Deal."
I turned back to the interface.
"System," I announced. "The Independent Faction accepts the Special Round."
⟨Acknowledgment Received. Special Round: Boss Subjugation will commence in 60 seconds.⟩
⟨Warning: Threat Level is classified as Calamity.⟩
"Calamity?" Trent squeaked.
I didn't waste time. I spent the 8,000 coins with reckless abandon.
Bzzzzrt! Bzzzzrt! Bzzzzrt!
I purchased twenty Heavy Artificial Knights, arranging them in a thick, overlapping phalanx at the breached gate. I bought ten more Automated Ballistas, lining the walls. I dumped the remaining coins into a series of localized, high-tier magical traps right inside the courtyard.
"Get behind the core," I told my team, drawing Nyxaris. The sword woke up immediately, humming with a groggy but terrifying eagerness.
[We are doing something stupid, aren't we?] she asked.
'Very.'
⟨5... 4... 3...⟩
The ground didn't shake this time. The air didn't scream.
The gray sky simply… tore open.
A massive, jagged rift appeared above the wasteland, bleeding pitch-black energy.
⟨2... 1...⟩
⟨Boss Summoned: The Abyssal Behemoth.⟩
It dropped from the rift like a falling meteor.
When it hit the ground, the impact sent a physical shockwave of dark mana that instantly shattered my twenty Heavy Knights into pixelated dust before the fight even began.
The dust cleared.
It was a monstrosity of bone and shadow. It looked like a minotaur that had been flayed alive and wrapped in thick, pulsing chains of dark magic. It stood forty feet tall, holding a massive, rusted executioner's axe that dripped with corrosive acid.
Its eyes burned with a hollow, silver light.
"That… is not a first-year monster," Lira whimpered, clutching Serene's coat.
"It's an Arch-Bishop level threat," Aria breathed, her usual amusement completely gone. "The system is trying to kill us for being arrogant."
The Behemoth roared. The sound was a physical pressure that forced me to drop to one knee.
'Okay,' I thought, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. 'Maybe I was slightly overconfident.'
The monster raised its massive axe, locked its glowing eyes on the Fort Core, and charged.