078 TEN AGAINST ONE
Damen struck without warning.
In a blur, he dashed into the bespectacled boy—his punch landing like a hammer of pure kinetic force. The boy's chest caved in with a crunch, air bursting from his lungs as his body flew backward.
But the attack didn't stop there.
The impact echoed.
The kinetic force rippled through the air like invisible shockwaves, slamming into the students behind him. One by one they fell, collapsing under an unseen crush—Momentum Collapse Echoes rippling outward in layers.
The entire group hit the ground, groaning in pain.
Damen stood tall, raising his fists in a calm, deliberate gesture—a warning that his next strike would not be so merciful.
The formerly confident group was now shattered, both in body and spirit.
Fear replaced pride.
One by one, they scrambled to retreat until only two Rank E students remained.
"Damen Dark!" one shouted, trembling but defiant. "You can chase away the cowards, but you don't scare us!"
They clasped hands, summoning a massive shimmering barrier. The Force Field surged around them, humming with light and density.
Damen tilted his head, amused. "Of all the defenses you could use… a force field?" He chuckled. "That's useless against me."
He lunged forward and kicked. The impact sent a low thunderclap across the arena—but the barrier held firm.
From the viewing platform, Principal Misk nodded approvingly. "That summon shield is perfectly executed. Not even Damen Dark—or most of our elites—could break through that level of defense."
Freeland Veyran leaned forward, a small smile creeping across his face. "Finally. This is how it should go."
But the satisfaction didn't last.
Without warning, both students were hurled backward, their bodies twisting midair before slamming into the ground. Their shields shimmered—then shattered like glass.
The crowd gasped.
"How—how did you break through our force fields?" one of them stammered, clutching his chest.
Damen's expression didn't change. "I didn't break your force fields," he said. "You gave them up."
They stared at him, confused.
He continued, almost lazily, "My Momentum Collapse doesn't just strike once. Its echoes rebound inside the kinetic shell—resonating through every surface. The more you reinforce your shield, the more pressure the echo builds… until you absorb all of it."
But the explanation fell on deaf ears, they passed out before Damen finished explaining.
Damen exhaled softly, flexing his fingers. "This Echo Core… is fantastic."
He turned to the referee with a casual grin. "Congratulations to me. I win."
The spectators erupted in disbelief.
"How can one student defeat so many? Even the two Rank E summon shield geniuses lost?"
"Their combined force fields could withstand a Rank D strike!"
"This Damen Dark… he's a real demon."
And up on the pavilion, Freeland's smile vanished.
-----
Freeland Veyran talked fast with the heirs of the Zetheris and Snow families. Presscott Aukuoma, representing his clan, stood close enough to be part of the whispering ring.
These three houses were the school's biggest patrons. Those students that their family supported or recommended filled the academy's top ranks.
All of the final challengers came from those families.
They had a plan to crush Damen Dark.
Damen would defeat some of the students while most others would surrender or give up. In the end, all who remains were the families handpicked ten—each an E-rank prodigy, hardened by special training and injections.
They grouped like a tactical unit, trading signals and assignments with the efficiency of a professional squad.
When the ten stepped into the arena, Damen hadn't been idle.
"These are the last of the challengers?" Damen asked.
He scanned them with his mining app, parsing skills and weak points. With that he already had a rough map of their strengths.
"Let the battle begin."
The challengers moved into a tight, circular formation.
Those on the inside locked hands and poured energy into their cores. Light braided between palms and rose upward, knitting into a shimmering dome that hummed with layered wards.
Damen watched, curiously. He held his phone up and swept the dome. To his surprise there was a readout across the dome.
"Fantastic, is this another function of my upgraded software?" Damen asked.
The readout was as follows:
Name: Formation Force Field Dome
Rank: D
Armor: 160
Damen smiled, almost amused. "So… the armor rating is 160. I wonder if I can break it," he thought.
He didn't react rashly. Instead, he ran the numbers in his head, feeling for a pattern the app couldn't show: how Momentum Collapse resonated, how echoes built when a kinetic shock reflected against a solid shell.
Damen circled the dome, his eyes on his phone screen. He wanted to know if the shield's integrity was even across the surface.
Armor: 140… Armor: 175… Armor: 120.
The readings fluctuated. The armor's strength wasn't uniform at all.
He smirked. "Of course. These are only students, not professionals trained in proper formation-field discipline. The uneven flow meant one thing—weak points existed."
Suddenly, the outer-ring challengers raised their hands, summoning meta energy that shimmered around their palms.
"What the hell are they doing?" Damen muttered.
The crowd knew the answer before he did.
A crimson blaze erupted from their line, a wave of flame rolling across the field.
"That's the basic meta skill—Flame Wave!" someone shouted.
"Damen's strong in close combat, but against ranged metas, he'll lose!"
"Flame Wave, huh…" Damen whispered. He dashed left, skidding across scorched grass as the firestorm swept past.
Before he could counter, another surge of energy exploded from the dome. This one wasn't fire—it was ice, shaped into a lion's roaring head. It lunged toward him, frost tracing its wake.
"That's Snow Lion Raze—the Snow family's signature move!" a student exclaimed.
Damen recognized it instantly. "This is the same trick that noob guy who tried to rob me of my VIP apartment used before—but this one's faster and stronger."
He leapt again, but the air shifted with a howling. A cyclone tore loose, pulling dust and debris into a spiraling tower.
"The Great Swirl—a Veyran family technique!" another voice cried.
The storm struck from the opposite flank, followed by streaks of light and arcs of plasma. Six students, six different elements—all converging on a single point.
Flames. Frost. Wind. Lightning.
All these elements were all aimed at Damen Dark.
Damen's body twisted and rolled.
He avoided most, but not all the incoming harm. The Snow Lion caught his shoulder, its claws raking across his armor before detonating in a burst of freezing mist. His motion slowed—the air was heavy around him afflicting him with stinging cold shards.
"We got him finally!!!"
"Now! Fire again!" shouted one of the challengers.
They unleashed everything—flame, wind, and radiant force—merging in a catastrophic blast.
The arena convulsed, shockwaves hammering against the barrier walls of the arena. Even the principal and teachers raised protective wards as the ground split and smoke swallowed the Defender.
When the roar subsided, all that remained was ruin.
The center of the field was a crater of ash and glass. Black smoke drifted upward in lazy curls.
"Did… did we get him?" one student whispered.