HEROS OF LALANTIA ARC
IN ARENA
The arena was alive with noise. Hundreds of students packed the stands, their cheers shaking the steel beams above. Some had their crystal phones out, already streaming the match live. At the center of the massive stage stood Jimmy, scarf loose around his neck, hands resting in his pockets, and opposite him, the fiery red-haired brawler Sharika, her gauntlets glowing with faint orange runes.
High above the ring, Headmaster Varion amplified his voice magically.
"In the left corner," Varion announced, his deep voice booming, "we have the mysterious fire and ice mage, the slayer of the Second Face demons… Jimmy!"
The crowd roared.
"And in the right corner," Varion continued, "one of the five heroes of Lalantia, the blazing martial combatant… Sharika!"
The stands erupted in deafening cheers.
Sharika smirked, slamming her fists together with a metallic clang. "I won't go easy on you."
Jimmy tilted his head, calm as ever. "I'm counting on it."
The moment the word left his lips, Sharika charged, closing the distance like a bullet. Her gauntlet blazed as she threw a heavy right hook. Jimmy sidestepped smoothly and countered with a sharp jab, but Sharika twisted, narrowly dodging the blow.
"You're fast," Jimmy muttered, eyes narrowing. "And you know how to move."
"Damn right," she grinned, spinning and driving her fist straight into his chest.
The impact boomed through the arena. Jimmy staggered back, boots skidding against the smooth floor. Before he could reset, Sharika lunged again — but Jimmy swept her legs, sending her crashing to the ground.
She rolled, flipped to her feet, and exploded forward again, tackling him to the mat. Her fists blurred, raining strikes.
Jimmy caught her last punch in one hand, ice magic flaring from his palm. Sharp ice spikes erupted, but Sharika shattered them with a roar, her gauntlets glowing white-hot.
"She's strong," Jimmy thought, his eyes narrowing as the glow in his gaze shifted — his irises flaring bright blue.
In an instant, his speed surged. He stepped in, pivoted, and drove a precise kick into her gut.
BOOM!
Sharika's body shot backward, slamming into the barrier wall hard enough to crack it. She crumpled to her knees, panting, defeated.
Before Jimmy could speak, the rest of the heroes — Alexandra, Ceila, Selena, and Cassie — vaulted into the arena, surrounding him in a semicircle.
"Five against one," Jimmy muttered, his brow arching. "Seriously?"
Alexandra smirked, drawing her sword in a flash of steel. "We want to test you too."
Cassie knelt by Sharika, a soft golden glow spilling from her hands as the bruised brawler was healed.
"Fine," Jimmy said quietly, the arena growing hushed. "Come at me."
The five charged. Spells and arrows flew, blades gleamed, and Sharika roared back into the fight. Jimmy moved like a phantom, weaving through the barrage, his ice and fire flaring together in perfect harmony.
One by one, they fell — exhausted, bruised, but unharmed.
Jimmy stood in the center, calm and steady, as the five lay sprawled on the arena floor.
"You're strong," he said evenly, "but you lack discipline. Training. Remember this — priests don't decide who the hero is. You do."
The arena went silent, awe-struck, as the crowd tried to process what they had just witnessed.
The arena was still buzzing with shock and excitement when the heavy doors at the far end slammed open.
August's noble family marched in like they owned the place — four figures, heads held high, their expensive clothing shining under the arena lights.
Albert von Scraner, tall and broad with neatly trimmed black hair and a perfectly groomed mustache, strode forward first, his polished boots clicking sharply against the stone. His wife, Alicia von Scraner, followed behind, draped in a luxurious blue gown, diamonds glittering at her throat. Behind them, Alix, August's older brother, and Natalin, her older sister, trailed like entitled shadows, their faces twisted in sneers of disdain.
August froze mid-cheer, her grin vanishing. "Oh no…"
Albert's voice boomed, carrying across the silent arena. "So, this is where you've been hiding, August. Gallivanting with peasants and pretending to be something you're not."
August clenched her fists, glaring at her father. "What are you doing here?"
"You're coming home," Albert said coldly. "Your little rebellion has gone on long enough. You belong with your family — where you'll have luxury, status, everything you could ever want."
"No," August snapped. "I'm not leaving. I have a life here — friends, training, everything I want."
Alicia's eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, voice dripping with false sweetness. "Don't be a brat, August. Come home. We have a penthouse waiting for you. Servants. Endless money. You don't need… this." She gestured dismissively at the arena, at Jimmy, Adam, Liana, and even the five heroes still recovering.
August's temper flared. "I don't care about your money or your stupid penthouse! I'm staying here!"
Alix sneered, his face twisted with arrogance. "You think you're better than us? You're nothing without the Scraner name."
Natalin, arms crossed, scoffed. "Honestly, August, playing student like some commoner. It's pathetic."
August screamed back, "Better pathetic than a spoiled snake like you two!"
The arena erupted with whispers and hushed gasps. Students and teachers exchanged looks, unsure if they should step in.
Jimmy, who had been silent the entire time, sighed and stepped forward, his hands still tucked in his pockets. "Are you all done with your little family drama?"
Albert turned sharply, eyes narrowing at the boy with the scarf. "Do you know who I am, boy? I am Albert von Scraner, head of the Scraner family."
Jimmy tilted his head lazily. "Yeah. Didn't ask."
Alicia's face flushed with anger. "How dare you speak to us that way! I am Alicia von Scraner, and these are my children, Alix and Natalin—"
"Didn't ask for their names either," Jimmy interrupted flatly. "Save it. You're wasting everyone's time."
The Scraner family froze, stunned by the boy's utter disregard. Gasps and muffled laughter rippled through the students watching.
Alix stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Jimmy's chest. "You'll regret disrespecting us, peasant. We'll make sure of it."
Jimmy's gaze sharpened, voice calm but cold. "Yeah, yeah. Go cry somewhere else. Or better yet…" His eyes flared faintly blue, just enough to make the air around him hum with heat. "…try me. See what happens."
Albert growled, but Alicia yanked his arm, muttering sharply. With a final glare, the Scraners turned and stormed out, the echo of their boots fading into silence.
Adam let out a low whistle. "You know… they're definitely coming back after that."
Jimmy shrugged, calm as ever. "Then I roast them alive."
August turned to him, cheeks flushed. "You didn't have to do that."
Jimmy smirked faintly. "Sure I did. Someone had to put them in their place."
The students began to disperse, still buzzing about the fight and the drama. Jimmy and Adam headed back toward the dorms, their conversation quieter now, the adrenaline wearing off.
Inside the dorm room, Adam collapsed on his bed, flipping on the TV.
Jimmy blinked at the screen. "Moving pictures… fascinating. That didn't exist a thousand years ago."
Adam smirked. "Yeah, they started developing it in the late 19XXs. Now it's everywhere. Welcome to the modern world, old man."
Jimmy rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small, amused smirk as the glowing images flickered across the screen.
Adam sprawled across his bed, remote in hand, flipping through channels with his chinchila perched lazily on his shoulder. The small creature squeaked occasionally, clearly fascinated by the rapid changes on the glowing screen.
Jimmy sat cross-legged on the couch, scarf draped loosely around his neck, his sharp brown eyes locked on the television like it was some strange artifact.
"So…" Adam grinned, glancing at him. "Thoughts on modern technology so far?"
Jimmy tilted his head slightly, watching a show with brightly colored characters shouting attacks at each other. "Fascinating. Moving pictures, sound, and no magic involved? Just… technology. A thousand years ago, we thought something like this was impossible."
Adam smirked. "Yeah, well, times change. You missed a lot while you were… y'know… dead."
Jimmy shot him a flat look but said nothing. Instead, his gaze lingered on the screen, where a hero in shining armor defeated a villain in a single blow. The crowd on the TV cheered, the sound filling the room.
"Heroes…" Jimmy muttered under his breath, almost too soft for Adam to hear.
Adam glanced up from the remote. "What was that?"
Jimmy shook his head. "Nothing. Just… the word doesn't mean what it used to."
The chinchila hopped from Adam's shoulder onto the coffee table, pawing curiously at the glowing screen. Jimmy smirked faintly and reached out, scratching the creature behind the ears, something that made it chirp happily.
"You know," Adam said casually, "most people your age — your real age — would probably be freaking out about all this new stuff."
Jimmy leaned back against the couch, eyes still locked on the screen. "Most people didn't spend a thousand years sleeping and then wake up surrounded by teenagers with magic and technology I don't understand. So, no… I'm fine."
Adam chuckled. "You sure? You look like you're analyzing that TV like it's a tactical enemy."
"It's loud," Jimmy said simply. "And overly dramatic."
Adam rolled his eyes and flipped to another channel — a news broadcast showing footage of the arena battle. The camera panned across the moment Jimmy had defeated Sharika and the others, the image slowed to highlight his blue-glowing eyes.
"…The mysterious first-year student Jimmy has shocked the academy," the reporter's voice boomed. "Speculation grows as to whether he could be the next champion of the upcoming Magic Games—"
Adam winced, muting the sound. "Yeah… so much for keeping a low profile."
Jimmy's brow furrowed, his expression unreadable. "Great. Just what I needed. More attention."
Adam laughed softly, leaning back. "Hey, look on the bright side. At least you're famous now."
Jimmy didn't answer. He just kept watching the muted footage, his reflection mirrored in the glowing blue of the screen.
After a long silence, he finally muttered, almost to himself, "Fame gets you killed faster than any demon ever could."
Adam glanced at him, sensing the weight behind the words, but didn't push. Instead, he handed Jimmy a bowl of popcorn. "Here. If you're gonna brood, at least snack while you do it."
Jimmy blinked at the bowl, then at Adam, before reluctantly taking a handful. "…Not bad."