Chapter 42: The Strongest Elite of Class S VS The Strongest Elite of Class A (1)
[Teleport commencing in T-minus 5 seconds.]
The countdown boomed through the empty space between simulations, a deep rumble that shook up from the ground, making the cracked stone under their boots hum like it was waking up. The air felt tight, pressing in from all sides, like the world was holding its breath hard before letting go, the ruins around them smearing into gray nothing.
5
A bright blue light started wrapping around Lucian, Celestia, and Christopher, tugging at their clothes and hair, the glow so strong it threw sharp shadows on the walls and made their skin tingle like static before a big storm.
4
Their bodies went light all of a sudden, like stepping off a cliff for a heartbeat, the chamber melting into streaks of color—blue mana clashing with the red fog, turning everything blurry and off, like looking through dirty glass that warped what you knew.
3
A low hum filled their ears, steady and building, like a huge engine turning over slow, the kind that vibrates in your chest if you stand too close, getting louder with every tick.
2
The light got brighter, swallowing the edges of everything, the air tasting sharp with that ozone bite, like the smell right before lightning cracks the sky open.
1
FLASH!
And just like that—in a blink—they were somewhere else.
The scene slammed into them hard, overwhelming and twisted. What might've been a grand colosseum once—an arena for big fights and cheering crowds, the kind of place where stories got made and heroes stood tall—now looked like a wreck left after a storm nobody walked away from. Cracked marble pillars stuck up from the dirt like broken bones, leaning bad at angles, some half-fallen and spilling chunks of stone across the ground. The sky above was blood-red, low and angry, heavy with dark clouds that churned slow like they were boiling from the inside. The air was thick with smoke and the burnt smell of mana gone wrong, faint echoes of clashes still hanging in the haze, making the whole place feel like it was breathing too hard, too ragged. The ground was torn up bad, craters everywhere like giant fists had punched down over and over, leaving holes big enough to hide a person, and the faint glow of shattered barriers flickered out in spots, dying slow like embers in wet wood.
Lucian narrowed his deep black eyes, feeling the dense aura pressing in from all sides, heavy as a storm you couldn't see but knew was coming. 'This pressure... It's different from before. So, this is the final battlefield for the elites, huh?' he thought, his boots shifting on the loose gravel, the crunch loud in the sudden quiet that followed the teleport.
Then they saw them.
Already waiting in the center, standing tall like they owned every inch of the mess, was Johnathan Almek Leonborne—the top dog of Class S. His golden mane of hair caught the crimson light, shining like a crown nobody could take off, his body giving off pure fight energy that made the air hum around him, like he was ready to charge at a word. On his right stood Amelia Eileen Orientalia, her hands glowing with threads of white and gold mana, twisting like they were alive, ready to weave spells that could turn the tide or break it. Claire Manhattan floated a step behind, her magic circle spinning under her feet, a support field bubbling up around the team, blue and steady, like a shield you couldn't see but knew was there, keeping them sharp.
The air went tight when their eyes met—Lucian's team on one side, Johnathan's on the other, the space between them feeling smaller, charged, like the calm before a punch you see coming but can't dodge.
Lucian's team wasn't alone, though. Around the ruined arena, other students who'd made it this far lay scattered—some slumped on the ground, out cold or barely moving, their uniforms torn and faces pale from the fights they'd already been through. Others crawled slow toward the edges, hands digging into the dirt, trying to surrender or quit, but the simulation didn't let them; the barriers flickered, holding them in, like the game wanted a winner no matter the cost, no matter how much it hurt.
"Looks like it's a no-quit zone," Christopher muttered, cracking his knuckles loud, his voice low but with that edge of "let's get it over with" you hear when someone's done complaining. "Guess we fight 'til the end, no backing out."
Lucian's eyes glowed faint, mana stirring around him like a thin mist that clung to his coat and hair. 'The same as before. Johnathan and Amelia go on the offensive while Claire anchors them with her mana control. Lionborn's physical dominance and a Sorceress' adaptive magic… the perfect broken combo. I've fought this team before—in both my second life and the original game's timeline,' he thought, his grip tightening on his saber, the leather creaking under his fingers just enough to feel real.
A grim smile crossed his face, small but there, like he knew the odds but didn't care. 'But this time, I've already surpassed my weakness—my own morality, my useless sense of honor. I've long buried that part of me the moment I embraced the Demonic Path and became a Blade Demon under Seonin.'
He stepped forward, his voice sharp as a blade, cutting the quiet like it was cloth. "Christopher," Lucian started, his tone steady and boss-like, no room for messing around or second-guessing. "You'll handle Claire. She's annoying as hell when she starts supporting from the back—keeps the others up with her barriers and heals, like a wall you can't punch through. Don't let her cast uninterrupted. Break her focus, keep her moving, make her chase you."
Christopher smirked, flexing his fists, the gauntlets gleaming under the red light. "Easy enough. I'll break her barrier and give her a good scare. She won't know what hit her—trust me, I've got this."
Lucian turned to Celestia next, his eyes meeting hers even, holding for a beat. "Silvie, you'll deal with Amelia. I saw how you made Serene cough blood back there—use that same ferocity, that fire you got when you're pushed. Amelia's dangerous, but predictable; she likes to weave her spells wide and hit hard. You already fought her before, so use that experience. I trust you can handle her."
Celestia nodded firm, her golden hair swaying as her light mana started to hum around her, warm and bright, like a shield getting ready to shine. "Don't worry, Lucian. I'll defeat her this time. I know her weaknesses now," she said, her voice full of that quiet strength, her sword gleaming in her hand, ready to cut through.
Lucian gave a faint grin, the kind that meant business but had a touch of "we got this." "Good. Then it's settled."
He unsheathed his saber, the dark metal catching the crimson light, his ashen-white hair fluttering against the wind picking up from the mana in the air. "I'll take care of the lion himself—Johnathan Almek Leonborne. Let's show them that our team kneel before anyone."
Christopher laughed loud, slamming his fists together with a sharp crack that echoed. "Now that's what I wanted to hear. Alright then, time to kick some ass!" he said, his eyes lighting up with that pumped-up energy, like he was born for this.
Celestia raised her sword beside him, her aura flaring in radiant gold, bright and clean against the red sky. "Copy that Lucian," she said with a smile, her voice carrying both excitement and steel, like she was ready to run through walls. "Let's show them the true strength of our team!"
Lucian pointed his saber forward, his ashen-white hair fluttering in the crimson wind, his deep black eyes burning with quiet fire. "Let's move then."
The arena shook once more as both sides rushed in—the clash starting with a roar of mana and steel, the strongest elites of Class A and Class S finally meeting in a battle that would shake the foundations of the simulation itself.