Chapter 19: The Bloodwood Qualifiers
The blare of the bone-horn shattered the morning air, signaling the start of the First-Year Ranking Qualifiers.
There were no classrooms today. No theoretical arrays or chalkboard diagrams. The Academy had dumped eighty squads into the center of the Bloodwood—a sprawling, ancient section of the enchanted forest where the trees had bark like rusted iron and the canopy blocked out the sun.
The rules were brutally simple: At the center of the forest was a ruined stone ziggurat housing a dormant Mana-Geyser. The first squad to reach the summit and hold the geyser for ten unbroken minutes qualified for the main tournament. Everyone else failed.
"Movement on the left flank!" Rolf roared.
The werewolf was already fully transformed, his massive, fur-covered frame crackling with yellow Beast-Aura. He caught a charging Orc mid-sprint, lifting the two-hundred-pound brute by the chest plate and hurling him bodily into a thicket of razor-thorns.
"Keep the perimeter tight!" I barked, standing near the top of the stone steps. "They think we're an easy target because of me. Let them bottleneck at the stairs!"
The air was thick with the smell of ozone, burning pine, and blood. It was absolute chaos. Spells of fire and ice detonated across the forest floor, uprooting trees and scattering the weaker squads. But my squad was a perfectly calibrated machine.
Nyssa stood at the summit just behind me, her silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the emerald fire building in her hands. She was a walking artillery battery. "Three-second casting delay! Clear the center!" she shouted.
"Rolf, drop!" I ordered.
Rolf hit the dirt just as Nyssa unleashed a sweeping arc of emerald flames. The blast incinerated the front line of a demon squad trying to push the stairs, sending them screaming back into the tree line.
But as the smoke cleared, my [Sharp Eye] caught a subtle, terrifying shift in the ambient mana pressure.
"We have a problem," I said, my voice cutting through the ringing in my ears.
Emerging from the burning tree line was a squad that hadn't engaged in the initial chaotic brawl. They were High Elves, dressed in pristine white and gold combat leathers, flanked by a towering Minotaur vanguard. At their center stood a blonde Elven mage whose hands were weaving a massive, intricate geometric array. The air around him was literally warping with heat.
"A Tier-3 Siege Spell," Nyssa gasped, her face going pale. "He's compressing a Solar Lance. If that hits the ziggurat, the stone will melt. We can't block that!"
"Kaelith!" I yelled. "Can you reach him?"
Kaelith appeared from the shadows of a ruined pillar, her daggers dripping with black ichor. The silver star-bracelet I had given her caught the light of the fires. "The Minotaur's Aura is too dense," she assessed coldly, her eyes scanning the enemy formation. "If I strike the mage, the beast will crush me before I can extract."
The Elven mage's spell was glowing blindingly bright. We had maybe ten seconds before he wiped us off the map.
"Rolf, Nyssa, Kaelith—funnel all your attacks on the Minotaur!" I commanded, drawing my short wooden gladius. "Make the mage think his vanguard is about to break!"
"What about the spell?!" Nyssa yelled over the roaring wind of the gathering magic.
"I'll handle the spell."
I didn't wait for them to argue. I stepped off the stone stairs and immediately triggered [Phantom Tread].
The shadows of the ruined ziggurat instantly leaped up to cling to my coat. The crunch of my boots against the gravel vanished entirely. To the rest of the battlefield, I became nothing more than a blur of dark, shifting static.
I sprinted down the flank, skirting the edge of the clearing. My lungs burned, but my newly tempered Endurance held. I watched as Kaelith and Rolf launched a coordinated, ferocious assault on the Minotaur, forcing the massive beast to roar and raise his heavy iron shield. Nyssa pelted the shield with concussive blasts, creating a deafening distraction.
The Elven mage sneered, his eyes locked on the summit, entirely focused on finishing his Solar Lance to annihilate my squad. He completely ignored his blind spot.
I slipped behind him, silent as a ghost.
The Sovereign's Conduit roared to life in my chest.
I didn't need to weave a spell. I didn't need to overpower his magic. I just needed to break his concentration. I inhaled the chaotic, burning mana of the battlefield and forcefully shifted it into heavy, dense Aura.
The silver light pulsed violently down my arms.
I stepped out of the shadows directly behind the Elf and drove the pommel of my Aura-coated gladius directly into the back of his knee.
The joint buckled instantly. The Elf let out a shocked, agonizing gasp, his rigid casting stance completely collapsing.
"What—" he started to yell, turning his head in panic.
Exhale. Magic.
The Aura vanished from my limbs, converting instantly into raw Arcane heat. Before he could regain control of the massive, unstable siege spell hovering between his hands, I slammed my open palm directly against his spine and released a microscopic, disruptive pulse of my own mana into his array.
"Duck!" I roared, throwing myself backward into the mud.
The resulting feedback loop was catastrophic. The Solar Lance, stripped of its structural containment, detonated prematurely.
A shockwave of blinding, golden light erupted from the Elf's hands. The concussive force blasted the Minotaur off his feet and threw the rest of the Elven squad into the trees like ragdolls. I was sent skidding through the mud, my ears ringing violently.
Slowly, the dust and smoke began to settle.
The Elven squad was entirely wiped out, groaning and unconscious in the dirt. The massive siege spell had done our job for us.
I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, spitting out a mouthful of ash, and looked up toward the ziggurat. Rolf, Kaelith, and Nyssa were staring down at me in absolute, stunned silence. They hadn't even seen me move until the spell exploded.
[System Alert: Tactical Domination Acknowledged.]
[Host has successfully neutralized a Tier-3 threat. Experience Matrix updated.]
"Timer's ticking!" I yelled up at them, wiping the mud from my face as I got to my feet. "Watch the tree line! We still have three minutes!"
Kaelith was the first to snap out of it. A fierce, incredibly proud smirk crossed her face before she melted back into the shadows to guard the flank. Rolf let out a deafening, triumphant howl, banging his fists against his chest.
Nyssa just adjusted her glasses, her emerald eyes fixed on me with a look of absolute, terrifying awe.
We weren't just the squad with the goblin tactician anymore. We were the apex predators of the Bloodwood. And the Academy was finally going to realize it.