Seven students stood in front of the wooden box.
The dirt arena was quiet. The medical teams had cleared the blood and broken teeth from the previous matches. The white chalk circles were redrawn.
Instructor Thorne held out the box.
"Round four," Thorne said. "Seven students. Three matches. One free pass. The final four go to the semi-finals."
The line moved. A boy with a heavy iron shield reached in and pulled the blank piece of paper. He sighed in relief and walked to the wall. The bye was taken.
Rian pulled his chit. He looked at the ink. "Match one."
Luna drew next. Her hands were shaking again. Her spatial manipulation in the last round had burned a massive amount of her Level 7 Aether. She unfolded her paper. "Match two."
Jin stepped up. He pulled his lot. "Match three."
"Enter the rings," Thorne ordered.
Rian walked toward circle one. He leaned heavily on his ash-wood spear. His left eye was completely swollen shut from a previous strike. He limped on his right leg. He had survived on pure willpower, but his physical limits were completely maxed out.
His opponent was a fresh, arrogant boy from the Apex Empire holding twin iron maces. The boy radiated a thick, heavy aura. Foundation Level 9.
"Begin," the referee shouted.
Rian thrust his spear forward. He pushed with his back hand, keeping his form perfect. But form cannot overcome a complete lack of physical capital.
The Level 9 boy did not even dodge. He swung his right mace and smashed the wooden spear shaft aside. The sheer difference in muscle density ripped the spear completely out of Rian's bruised hands.
The boy stepped forward and drove his left mace directly into Rian's stomach.
Rian folded in half. He vomited bile into the dirt. He collapsed to his knees, completely paralyzed by the pain. He could not stand up. The Aether tank was completely empty.
"Winner," the referee declared. The medical team rushed in.
Jin watched Rian get carried away. It was pure mathematics. A battered Level 8 cannot beat a fresh Level 9 in a direct physical exchange. The result was inevitable.
In circle two, Luna faced her own nightmare.
She stood inside the white boundary. She held the wooden handle of her dull kusarigama. She looked across the dirt ring at her opponent.
It was a tall, incredibly quiet boy. He wore a simple black tunic. He did not carry a sword or a spear. He wore a pair of heavy, dull iron gauntlets on his hands.
Jin analyzed the boy from across the arena. His dark eyes narrowed slightly.
The boy's aura was not leaking into the air like the other students. It was completely contained, pressing inward against his skin like a compressed spring. He was not Level 9. He had broken past the ceiling of the Genesis State.
He was at the Half-Step Core Formation Realm.
It was a massive leap in biological evolution. His flesh and bones were currently fusing with pure Aether to create a solid core. The gap in power between Level 9 and Half-Step was wider than the gap between Level 1 and Level 8.
"Begin," the referee yelled.
Luna did not hesitate. She threw her heavy iron chain instantly.
She knew she could not fight him directly. She engaged her depleted Level 7 core. She twisted the space in front of the tall boy. She warped the trajectory, hooking the heavy iron ball violently toward the side of his knee.
The tall boy did not dodge. He did not even look at the chain.
He simply stepped forward.
As the heavy iron ball struck his leg, a thick, visible wave of dense Aether flared outward from his skin. It acted like a solid concrete wall. The iron ball slammed into his knee and completely stopped dead. It did not even tear his pants. The blunt force kinetic energy was entirely negated by his superior aura.
Luna gasped. The chain went slack in her hands. Her primary spatial attack had completely failed.
The tall boy moved.
He was impossibly fast. His speed did not come from a Gene Legacy. It came from raw, evolved muscle power. He crossed the fifteen feet of dirt in a single, silent stride. He appeared directly in front of Luna.
He did not punch her. He did not try to break her jaw. He simply raised his iron gauntlet, placed his open palm against the center of her chest, and pushed.
The physical force was staggering.
Luna was lifted off her feet. She flew backward through the air like a discarded ragdoll. She soared over the white chalk line and crashed heavily into the dirt ten feet outside the ring.
She rolled to a stop. She laid flat on her back, staring up at the golden dome of the Academy. She was not severely injured, but the wind was completely knocked out of her lungs. The sheer physical gap was absolute.
"Winner," the referee shouted.
Jin watched Luna slowly sit up outside the ring. She was eliminated. Her tournament run was over. But she had survived without broken bones. She had gained practical data.
Jin turned his attention back to his own circle.
He stood in ring three. His opponent was a Level 9 student holding a heavy iron glaive. The boy looked tired, but his grip was firm.
"Begin," the referee yelled.
The boy gripped the long wooden handle of the glaive and swung it in a wide, horizontal clearing arc. He wanted to keep Jin at a distance.
Jin did not raise his heavy falchion to block. He did not step back.
He calculated the exact trajectory of the swinging iron blade. He stepped directly forward, moving inside the danger zone before the blade reached its maximum velocity.
He raised his heavy iron sword and jammed it straight down into the dirt, using the thick flat side of his blade like an iron pillar.
The wooden shaft of the incoming glaive slammed violently into Jin's anchored sword.
Crack.
The glaive stopped dead. The boy's wrists jarred heavily from the sudden kinetic halt.
Jin did not swing his massive sword. He let go of the leather handle entirely. He stepped forward, grabbed the front of the boy's black uniform with both hands, and threw his body weight backward.
He used the boy's own forward momentum against him.
Jin dropped his hips and tossed the Level 9 student over his shoulder. The boy flipped through the air and slammed face-first into the hard dirt. The impact rattled his skull. Before he could push himself up, Jin planted his heavy leather boot directly on the back of the boy's neck, pinning his face into the ground.
The boy struggled for one second, then went limp. He yielded.
"Winner," the referee declared.
Jin pulled his boot back. He reached down, grabbed his heavy iron falchion out of the dirt, and walked out of the ring. He did not waste a single drop of unnecessary Aether. Efficiency was the only metric that mattered.
Instructor Thorne walked to the center of the arena. He threw the empty wooden box to the side.
"Round four is over," Thorne's deep voice boomed. "The bracket is finalized."
Jin walked back to the cold steel wall. Luna and Rian were sitting in the dirt. Medical faculty were wrapping a cold compress around Rian's swollen eye. Luna was rubbing her chest, still catching her breath.
"I could not move him," Luna whispered as Jin sat down. "The chain just bounced off."
"He has a higher biological density," Jin stated simply. He rested his blade on his knees. "Your weapon lacks the mass to penetrate an evolved aura. It is a hardware limitation."
Jin looked back at the center of the arena.
Four students remained standing.
Jin was one of them. He was Foundation Level 9.
Two other students stood near the weapon pile. They were both Level 9. They were battered, bruised, and breathing heavily.
The fourth student stood completely still. It was the tall, quiet boy in the black tunic. The Half-Step Core Formation monster. He did not look tired. He did not have a single drop of sweat on his forehead.
The semi-finals were set. The hostile acquisition had finally reached the board of directors.