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As Vyros's fist flew toward his face, Arthur's mind was cool, calm and collected. There was only one simple thought running through him.
'Ignite.'
And so, raising his arm slowly, he pulled the mana from his chest and let it flow into his fingers, and then, like the spark to the flame, the snap was the key to unleashing it all.
He let go.
A small marble of mana formed in the air directly in front of Vyros's fist, crashing into it.
SCREEECH!
All of his momentum pushed into the small marble, but he wasn't able to push it back. Vyros's eyes went wide as he threw everything he had into forcing the marble back, but it refused to move.
Up in the stands directly above their court, the fans lucky enough to have a bird's eye view of the match leaned over the railing, many wondering what exactly was happening down below.
"What is this stupid thing?" Vyros pulled back his fist and sidestepped, trying to punch in from the side, except the marble followed his fist, blocking it again.
"What the fuck? Get this stupid shit out of my face!" Vyros screamed out as he threw a flurry of punches, but every time he struck, the marble found its mark, blocking the attack, rendering everything he did useless.
"Is that really all you can do? All this big talk, and you can't even get past a little orb of mana?"
Arthur taunted Vyros, whose face had grown bright red from embarrassment and shame, his bloodline doping increasing as he raged out in fury, punching with more intensity than before. But the marble never cracked, blocking every single attack as if it were nothing more than paper in the wind.
"The fuck is this made of?!" Vyros screamed out as he tried his absolute hardest to push past the orb, but it was no use.
Bam! Bash! Boom!
Vyros's fists echoed out from his constant assault on the orb, and the section of the crowd overlooking their court roared out in a craze. The dominating force Arthur was showing was too much for Vyros. He was supposed to make light work of Arthur here, but instead Arthur was treating him like someone not worth his full attention.
"Fight with honor, you bastard!" Vyros screamed at Arthur, demanding he fight him.
"Make me." Cold hearted, Arthur continued to stand tall, as if he was on a leisurely stroll through the woods.
"RAAAGH!"
Raging out, Vyros kicked into second gear as a red hue started to emit from his skin, doping him up even more, especially as his chest plate began to glow blue, contrasting against his red skin. From the chest plate, the blue started to run in lines up along his limbs, enhancing his arms and legs like an exo suit.
"Let's see if you can handle this!" Vyros yelled out as he smashed his fists together.
However, before Vyros could unleash his new power, Arthur stepped forward.
"Hmm. You might actually be able to break the orb with that strength. I guess I too could turn it up a notch."
And like a puppeteer controlling his puppet, Arthur pushed out the orb, finessing it to expand in size. The small orb, once no bigger than a marble, now grew. From a bowling ball to a beach ball all the way to a bicycle, the orb swelled until it loomed over their court, and it kept growing.
Their match was just one of sixteen scattered across the vast arena floor, and until now the crowd's attention had been split every which way. But an orb of swirling mana rising above the center courts was impossible to miss. Heads began to turn, first in the stands, then on the field itself, fighters in the neighboring courts stealing glances mid-match at the thing swelling over Arthur's head.
"Henry, are you… are you seeing what I'm seeing? Ladies and gentlemen, eyes to the center field! Vyros, a peak Bronze powerhouse, has not landed a single blow, not ONE, and Arthur Webb hasn't moved his feet since the match began!"
"That's not even the scary part, Jonathan. Look at the control. One orb of pure mana, no bloodline, no named technique, just pure skill in tracking a peak Bronze berserker at full speed. Such finesse of mana is unheard of, folks!"
"And that mana, Henry… take a second look. Doesn't it remind you of something?"
"You're right, Jonathan. It's not degrading, the density hasn't dropped since the snap. Arthur Webb's mana is behaving like arcane mana!"
"Arcane, folks! Rare, but not unheard of, the stuff of the highest casters in the kingdom. And a first year is out here brushing against it!"
"Well, whatever he is, the rumor is dead. Long live the fact. Arthur Webb is the real thing!"
The massive orb now swirled in the sky like a prison of water, its color drifting between a cool blue and teal while its deeper parts ran darker, more mystical in nature.
And like a flood, the orb exploded, engulfing Vyros instantly, coating him in a torrent of mana.
The torrent crashed down and swept across the court, and the boundary runes lining its edges flared bright, lines of light crackling awake one after another as they strained to keep the flood penned inside the battlefield. Arthur's court sat near the middle of the arena, close to the wall, and the fans in the stands directly above got the full show, the wash of pressure rolling up over the railing, whipping hair and banners as those with even a shred of sensing ability grabbed at their chests, feeling the weight of Silver tier mana press down on their lungs.
Across the arena floor, fight after fight stuttered to a halt as fighters and referees alike turned to stare at the wall of water-like mana churning in the center courts.
For one long breath, that whole section of the Coliseum went completely silent.
Then it erupted.
"WEBB! WEBB! WEBB!"
"I BET ON YOU, WEBB! FIFTY TO ONE, BABY! DROWN HIM! BUY MY DINNER!"
"Who the hell had money on the Webb?!"
"THE SMART ONES, THAT'S WHO!"
Somewhere in the rows above the court, a man was already weeping into his betting slip, and the chant spread down the stands as the torrent raged on below.
"Ah, you bitch!" Vyros screamed out, his body flailing as he tried to fight back against the current, but it was of no use. The mana of the orb was heavy, almost like an obstacle in itself, making every movement even harder for Vyros to push through.
And like a tidal wave, the mana wrecked Vyros, picking him off the ground and pushing him back.
Vyros tumbled through the torrent like a leaf in a river, his enhanced limbs clawing for purchase that didn't exist, and the current carried him back, back, back, until the edge of the court rushed up to meet him.
BOOM!
His body slammed into the arena wall beneath the stands, the impact cratering the stone as the flood finally released him, letting him slide down to the ground in a heap. His limbs twitched once, the red hue draining from his skin and the blue lines of his chest plate flickering out, and then he moved no more, knocked out cold at the base of the wall while the last of the mana washed off him like receding tide.
The referee's hand shot up.
"Winner, Arthur Webb!"
The section above the court exploded, the chant of his name rolling down the stands in waves as Arthur simply lowered his hand, turned, and walked off the court the same way he'd walked on. Calm, unhurried, as if he'd just finished a light stretch.
'That should be enough noise for one day.'
-
Beneath the Coliseum, the squad was losing its collective mind.
"DID YOU SEE THAT?!" Mars grabbed Garrett by the shoulders and shook him. "The wall! He put him IN the wall!"
"I saw it, I saw it, get off me!" Garrett shoved him away, though the grin on his face betrayed him.
"That poor bastard," Mars said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "But finally, someone else gets to feel the pain we did. That marble… just thinking about it haunts me."
"May he rest in peace." Garrett bowed his head solemnly toward the hologram, where Vyros was being scraped off the arena floor by the medic team.
"At least somebody else finally knows the pain," Amy giggled, a bright smile on her face, happy to see Arthur win.
"He went easy on him," Angela said quietly.
The three of them turned to look at her.
"…What?"
"Compared to our training? He went easy." Angela's eyes stayed on the hologram, and slowly, one by one, the rest of the squad remembered the drills, the endless drills, and a shared shiver ran through them.
"May Vyros rest in peace," Mars repeated, and this time nobody laughed, because they all bowed their heads with him.
-
On the other side of the arena, a chair went flying.
Crash!
"USELESS! Every single one of them, USELESS!" Damien's voice cracked through the second year section as the men around him found somewhere else to look. The holographic screen still hung in the air, still replaying the highlight, the flood, the wall, the referee's hand going up, Arthur Webb's name rolling through the Coliseum like a coronation.
Silver tier. Real. Confirmed in front of every noble scout from the capital, in front of the whole academy, in front of everyone who mattered.
"My lord…" Jeffrey began carefully.
"Don't." Damien's hand cut through the air, his breath ragged, his perfect composure hanging in tatters as he stared at the screen with eyes full of venom. Money gone. Two fighters gone. And that Webb bastard hadn't even broken a sweat.
He needed to think. No. He needed to not think.
Damien straightened his collar, smoothed his hair back into place, and turned from the screen with his jaw clenched tight enough to creak.
"Jeffrey. Where is Vespa?"