The jungle arena was thick with the scent of ozone and the metallic tang of blood. Alex Kellen's golden aura pulsed violently, his feet digging into the soft loam as he prepared to launch himself at the senior who had just broken their classmate's arm.
"That arrogant bastard..." Alex growled, his knuckles turning white as he reached for his spear. "I'll show him what a Kellen's rage looks like!"
He was halfway into a leap when a voice, as cold and sharp as a falling icicle, cut through the humid air.
"Are you dumb or just incredibly naive, you idiot?"
Alex froze mid-motion, spinning around to see Ryan Ragnor leaning casually against a thick spirit-vine. Ryan wasn't even looking at the ring; he was cleaning a speck of dirt from his fingernail with a small, black-steel dagger.
"What did you say?" Alex snapped, his golden eyes flashing with a mix of shock and fury.
"I said you're a fool," Ryan replied, finally looking up. His eyes were like two bottomless abysses, devoid of the "heroic" fire that consumed Alex. "Look around you, Alex. There are thirty vultures who have spent a decade learning every dirty trick in the Academy's book. And here you are, our Rank 1, wanting to jump in first while they are still fresh."
Ryan stepped forward, his voice dropping into a low, predatory whisper. "We are the only fighters in this batch who actually stand a chance of contending against them. If you go in now and get exhausted—or worse, injured—who is left to stop Gideon and Amy? The Bronze-tier 'trash' behind us?"
"They're our classmates, Ryan! They're being slaughtered!" Alex shouted, gesturing to a girl being carried off.
"They are being tempered," Ryan corrected him. "In this world, the weak are harvested. That is the rule. If you want to win this bet, you wait. You let the others go. Let them exhaust the seniors' mana. Let them reveal their techniques. We don't move until the wolves have blunted their teeth on the sheep."
"I don't know about you," Ryan added, loud enough only for Alex to hear, "but I will only step in once every person weaker than me has already been defeated. Otherwise, forget it."
Alex was shocked, but deep down, he knew the cold logic was flawless. He controlled his breathing and turned to the rest of the frightened freshmen. "Everyone... please. This is our only chance to get back everything we've lost. Just hold on." He spoke with an expression heavy with guilt.
Ryan watched the exchange and chuckled inwardly. He will be an easy pawn to control, he thought.
Beside him, Jasmine was trembling. Ryan noticed her knuckles were white as she gripped her robes. Without looking at her, he reached out and lightly tapped her shoulder. "Relax," he murmured, his voice surprisingly smooth. "They won't use a heavy hand on you. You're far too valuable an alchemist to break. Besides, I wouldn't want such a pretty face getting bruised before our next study session."
Jasmine's breath hitched, a faint blush creeping up her neck despite the carnage in front of them. "I... I wasn't worried about that," she whispered, leaning slightly closer to him. "I just didn't think you'd notice me standing here."
"I notice everything that matters, Jasmine," Ryan said, his eyes returning to the ring.
The "Joint Field Duel" turned into a slow, agonizing meat grinder. For two hours, the jungle floor was a stage for the freshmen's suffering. "He's like a wall!" one student cried as a senior sent another boy flying. "We've sent thirty people and that guy hasn't even broken a sweat!"
But Ryan's strategy began to bear fruit. The seniors' Peak Bronze fighter eventually hit his limit after thrashing twenty-four freshmen. The twenty-fifth student caught him in a moment of mana exhaustion and finally sent him sprawling.
As the match continued, the seniors were forced to deploy their Silver Stage fighters. After two grueling hours, the score was grim:
Seniors: 28 defeated , 2 remaining
Freshers : 397 defeated 3 remaining
Even Lucas was forced to concede. "Damn it," he hissed as he stumbled back to the group, clutching a bruised side. "I took one down, but that Silver-Middle senior has a core like a tank. Ryan, tell me you're actually going to do something or I'm asking for a refund on that 'backer' promise."
David turned to Ryan. "Should I surrender to save my strength, or fight?"
Ryan's gaze landed on Amy, the prominent member of the Mage Club. "Amy is a good opponent. Go show her why I am a leader worth following. Force her to reveal her hand."
David blurred into the ring, facing Amy, a genuine Silver Peak.
"A freshman with a Rank 3 badge," Amy said, her fingers dancing as a circle of wind formed around her. "You're the one who follows the Ragnor boy. Why? A talent like yours shouldn't be playing servant."
David unsheathed his saber, the metal humming. "A talent like mine is only useful if it has a direction. My Lord provides the path. You provide the target."
"Loyalty is a heavy burden for someone so young," Amy countered, launching a volley of Wind-Blades.
"It's lighter than the weight of mediocrity," David replied, weaving through the magic with a blur of Ragnor-refined footwork. He closed the gap, his blade clashing against her mana shield with a shower of sparks. "You're draining your pool just to keep me at bay, Senior. Is that the experience you bragged about?"
Amy gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing. "Don't get cocky, brat!" She clapped her hands together, shouting, "3rd-Grade Frost Lock!"
The ground beneath David froze instantly. He used a vast array of techniques to shatter the ice, forcing Amy to realize that her "experience" wasn't enough to overwhelm his "foundation." Finally, backed into a corner, Amy was forced to reveal her trump card—a massive eruption of mana that blanked the area.
David, already exhausted from the high-speed parries, was pushed back. He conceded the match, stepping out before she could land a finishing blow. He wasn't gravely injured—Amy had felt Ryan's icy gaze on her from the sidelines and hadn't dared to follow through.
David walked back to Ryan, breathing hard. "She used everything, sir."
Ryan nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Good. She's tired. And more importantly, she's curious."
Now, only the "Top Two" remained. And the seniors were finally looking at Ryan with something that looked very much like fear.