Morning sunlight spilled across the rooftops of the dormitories, slipping through cracked windows, half-opened doors, and tiny gaps in the wooden walls. Golden beams stretched across quiet rooms and resting students.
Inside one of them, Sora opened her eyes.
For a moment, she remained still on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was calm—too calm. Her silky yellow nightgown shimmered faintly as she slowly pushed herself upright.
Her fingers curled into tight fists.
"My limiter makes me feel weak… but I still have to impress Yamato."
Her voice was quiet, but her resolve wasn't.
A loose strand of her messy morning hair fell into her eyes. She brushed it aside gently, exhaled, and stepped off the bed.
Cold water from the shower struck her shoulders minutes later, sharp and refreshing. She let it run over her head, washing away hesitation. By the time she stepped out, she looked different—focused.
She dressed quickly in her school uniform: ash-colored shirt, knee-length black shorts. The fabric fit snugly against her athletic frame. She tightened the buttons, adjusted her collar, then stepped out of her dorm room.
The air outside was cool and calm.
As she walked toward the tournament grounds, she listened—to the whisper of wind dragging dried leaves across the stone paths… to the faint hum of a campus slowly waking.
Is everyone still sleeping? she wondered, breathing out slowly. I'm not that strong. I don't expect a huge crowd at my match.
But as she neared the arena, the ground began to vibrate.
A distant rumble.
Then louder.
Then chants.
The sands trembled beneath her feet.
Sora paused.
Voices overlapped. Cheers. Shouts. Excitement.
Before she could fully process it, the speaker above the stadium screeched sharply. She covered her ears instinctively.
Then a familiar voice boomed through the arena.
"Let's give a warm welcome to the vessel of the Water God… Sora!"
It was the Headmaster—Regns.
Her name echoed across the stadium.
Her heart jumped violently in her chest.
Her fingers trembled.
But her body reacted before her fear could take control.
Pressurized water burst from beneath her feet—compressed and explosive. It launched her skyward like a cannon shot.
Gasps filled the arena as she soared above the crowd before descending gracefully into the battlefield.
She landed on one knee.
Her right palm struck the ground to steady herself.
The impact cracked the stone beneath her slightly, fragments scattering outward.
Across from her stood Chella—the eighteen-year-old vessel of the Earth God.
Chella met Sora's blue eyes without hesitation.
"I have a goal," Chella said calmly. "And I intend to reach it."
Sora's lips curved into a small smile.
Her gaze drifted briefly to the stands.
She spotted Yamato and Lumei watching. Yamato was smiling.
Her chest tightened.
She turned back to Chella.
"Hey girl… you might have a good goal," Sora said quietly. "But I need someone to notice me."
Chella blinked and glanced toward the stands, following her gaze.
She saw Yamato.
Chella turned back slowly. "Is he the crush?"
"Shhh!" Sora immediately raised a finger to her lips. "Don't say a word to a soul."
Chella chuckled. "Then I can't go hard on you. You have to win."
Sora planted her feet firmly into the arena floor. "No. I need him to notice that I'm strong… and not a third wheel."
Chella burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. "Hahahaha! Then… your luck."
She straightened her posture and faced Sora fully.
The crowd rained chants down into the arena—calling both their names. Students, judges, teachers—even Yamato and Ichiha watched carefully.
The referee stepped forward.
"Fight!"
Sora moved first.
She dashed forward at blinding speed. Fast enough to blur—but not too fast for trained eyes to track.
Her fist drove straight toward Chella's face.
Chella did not move.
Instead, she planted her feet deep into the ground. The earth beneath her cracked and sank, forming a small crater as a defensive barrier of hardened earth rose before her.
Sora's punch collided with it.
CRACK.
The impact echoed loudly.
A fracture spidered across the barrier.
Sora smirked. "You should've made it stronger."
Chella countered immediately.
Her fist flew toward Sora's face—swift and precise. The speed carried a sharp gust of wind behind it.
Sora weaved back, dodging the direct hit—but the sheer force still blasted her backward several steps.
Without hesitation, Sora charged again.
Punch after punch targeted the same spot near Chella's head. Controlled. Focused. Repetitive.
The cracks deepened.
Chella gritted her teeth. "Why do you go for the head?"
Sora leaped back lightly. "It's a Yamato technique."
Then she surged forward again, raining blows on the weakened point.
The crowd roared.
The intensity grew.
"Go full power, you girls!" someone shouted from the stands.
Both of them smirked.
"I'm going all in," Chella declared.
"My pleasure," Sora replied.
Chella dropped her barrier.
A brownish glow enveloped her body.
Aura exploded outward in a massive burst. Wind blasted across the arena, forcing some spectators to brace themselves.
The pressure was immense.
Sora felt it.
But she didn't retreat.
She chuckled softly. "So this is what Yamato meant… releasing power alongside its usage."
She opened her arms slightly, letting the wind rush past her.
Her body trembled—not in fear, but in excitement.
Water gathered at her fingertips.
Her aura flowed outward—not violently like Chella's—but like a calm ocean current. Smooth. Controlled. Yet undeniably powerful.
The crowd was stunned.
Two completely different energies filled the arena—earth shaking and solid, water flowing and alive.
Sora dashed forward again, faster than before.
Her fists blurred.
But Chella had adapted.
She sidestepped effortlessly, redirecting Sora's momentum with minimal movements. At the same time, she raised her arm—and from the ground behind her, a massive boulder tore free.
It towered above them.
Then it shot forward.
The ground vibrated violently as it hurtled toward Sora at crushing speed.
Sora inhaled sharply.
She could feel the incoming mass through the shifting air pressure.
Her fingers weaved rapidly.
A towering wall of compressed water surged up in front of her.
The boulder collided with it.
THOOOM!
A deep explosion echoed as stone met water.
But instead of breaking through—
The rock crumbled.
Water pressure tore it apart, dissolving its structure.
In seconds, it turned to thick mud that splattered across the battlefield.
The crowd erupted.
Cheers. Screams. Amazed laughter.
Chella froze.
No water user had ever shattered her rock like that.
Not only had Sora blocked it—
She transformed it.
Mud dripped around them.
Chella's confidence flickered.
Her eyes narrowed as her mind worked quickly, reassessing.
Then she stomped the ground.
Stone surged upward around her, reshaping into towering figures.
Massive golems—each over eight feet tall—formed in seconds. Their heavy stone fists clenched as they loomed over Sora.
The arena darkened under their shadows.
Without hesitation, the golems charged.
Their enormous arms swung downward in devastating arcs.
Sora leaped aside just as a stone fist cratered the earth where she had stood. Shockwaves rippled outward.
Dust filled the air.
Another golem attacked from behind.
Sora pivoted sharply, releasing concentrated bursts of water to deflect the blows while darting between their legs and massive limbs.
Each movement required precision.
Each mistake could crush her.
Across the arena, Chella watched carefully—breathing steadily now, fully focused.
The battle had evolved.
No longer just fists and barriers—
Now it was control versus control. Adaptation versus endurance.
Blow after blow echoed through the stadium as Sora fought against the towering creations.
The intensity escalated.
The crowd could no longer sit still.
Chants grew louder.
The arena shook repeatedly from stone impacts and surging water.
Neither girl backed down.
Neither slowed.
And as dust, mud, water, and shattered earth filled the battlefield—
The outcome hung dangerously in the balance.