David stepped onto Ring 1, where a striking figure in revealing silken robes awaited him. She was a Peak Bronze Stage cultivator, radiating a playful, dangerous charm.
"Hi there, handsome," she purred, winking at David. "My name is Lara. Go easy on me, okay? Maybe we can meet after the matches... I have other skills I'd love to show you."
David, young and still susceptible to such blatant honey-traps, felt his face heat up. "Are you serious? Fine. Consider it done. Give me your contact details after I defeat you."
Lara smiled sweetly, though her inner thoughts were jagged with contempt. Another naive brat caught in the web. I'm going to tear you apart. Aloud, she chirped, "Thanks, Senior!"
The referee lowered his hand. "Begin!"
"Go ahead," David said confidently. "Make the first move."
Idiot, Lara thought. She leaped to the edge of the ring, her fingers dancing as she channeled mana into her core.
In this world, the path of the Martial Artist and the Mage were strictly divided. A Martial Artist used mana to temper the flesh and bone; a Mage used it to evolve their internal mana core for external projection. You chose one path and stuck to it; mixing them was a recipe for a shattered foundation. unlike some novels here you can't be both their cultivation techinques tear each other if practiced seperately.
"1st-Grade Spell: Fire Arrow!" Lara shrieked.
A bolt of flame hissed through the air. David smirked, keeping his saber sheathed. He focused mana into his knuckles, sliding into a solid stance. "Iron Fist: First Form!"
He punched the air, the sheer force of his mana-reinforced blow shattering the arrow. But as his mana touched the flame, the arrow didn't just vanish—it erupted into a thick, purple cloud of toxic smoke.
"Gotcha!" Lara laughed.
David stumbled out of the cloud, coughing violently. "Cough... you bitch! Fight fairly!"
"Only fools fight fairly," Lara mocked. "Haven't you been listening to Professor Noah?"
From the stands, Ryan watched with a stony expression. He was disappointed. David was slipping back into the naive boy he had been before the betrayal. He needed a harsh reminder that in this world, mercy was a slow-acting poison.
David caught Ryan's gaze in the crowd and felt a surge of cold guilt. I've failed him again. I've made the same mistake twice. His eyes turned icy. No more.
"You think a little smoke can stop a Silver Stage?" David growled.
He unleashed his full aura. Even with the poison restricting him to 80% strength, the pressure was overwhelming for a Bronze cultivator. Lara's smile vanished. "How?! You're poisoned!"
David didn't answer. He vanished. It was the 2nd-Grade Assassin Technique Ryan had secured for him. He reappeared instantly in Lara's blind spot and buried a fist into her gut.
Lara gasped, coughing up a spray of blood as she was lifted off her feet. Before she could hit the ground, David's saber was at her throat. The cold steel bit into her skin.
"Winner: David, Number 44!" the referee shouted.
David returned to the stands and knelt silently at Ryan's feet. "I am sorry, sir."
Lucas, watching from nearby, let out a snicker. "Look at the hot-headed idiot. Got played by a girl."
Ryan didn't acknowledge David. He didn't even look at him. He simply watched the matches on the screen as thirty minutes passed. David remained on one knee, the poison still stinging his lungs. He refused to treat himself until his Lord gave the word.
"Hey, Ryan," Lucas said, feeling the awkward tension. "It wasn't that serious. Forgive the guy."
"Shut up, you bastard," David hissed through gritted teeth. "Don't bother my Lord."
Finally, Ryan looked down. "Do you regret your decision in that match?"
"Yes, sir," David whispered. "From now on, I finish them. No words. No naivety."
"Good. Get up and treat yourself." Ryan turned to Lucas. "I see your concern for David. I have no room for weaklings, but I value loyalty. I am offering you a chance: follow me, and we become brothers."
Lucas held up his hands, a nervous grin on his face. "Whoa, chill. I'm not really the 'subordinate' type. But... we can be friends. For now."
Ryan smiled—a thin, knowing expression—and turned back to the arena. David swallowed a 2nd-Grade Anti-Poison pill, his breathing finally leveling out.
The tournament accelerated. Ryan crushed his next five opponents with clinical efficiency. David, fueled by his earlier shame, tore through his bracket to reach the top ranks. Lucas fought bravely but eventually fell in the semi-finals to Alex Kellen.
When the final three were decided, David stepped down. He knew his role. He wouldn't stand in the way of Ryan's glory.
"The Final Match!" Professor Noah's voice boomed. "Ryan vs. Alex Kellen!"
The two youths moved simultaneously. Two blurs of silver light leaped from the stands, landing in the center of the main ring with a thunderous whoosh. The arena erupted in cheers as the senior students began frantically placing their final bets.