The arena stretched like a shattered chessboard, platforms floating precariously over jagged gaps and glowing with faint magical residue. Dust hung in the air, swirling in the unnatural stillness that came before a storm.
On one side, the Crimson Class females lined up. Raya, Rhea, and the rest of the class stood tense, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in the charged silence. Lina was absent today, leaving a small, quiet void in their formation—but the others carried her spirit in their resolve.
Raya adjusted her stance, eyes scanning the opposing side. The Sovereignty Class females had already taken their positions, their aura a knife-edge of raw confidence and lethal intent. There was no hesitation in their posture, no doubt in their expressions—they would hold nothing back.
Rhea's hands trembled slightly as she flexed her fingers. Her body had healed from the last encounter, but the memory of exhaustion lingered. I can't falter. Not today. Not here.
Above the battlefield, in the shadows cast by the arena's floating platforms, Sage crouched silently. Her breathing slow, deliberate, barely making a sound. Her gaze was locked on the field, fixed on the fight's center, waiting for the signal from Kira. She didn't need to move yet; her patience was part of the strategy. One wrong move now, and the Sovereignty Class would notice her.
A faint murmur ran through the crowd, but it went unnoticed by the fighters. The tension was palpable—an invisible line stretching across the arena. When the first Sovereignty striker stepped forward, the air seemed to bend around her, sharp as a drawn blade.
The fight began not with a shout, but a ripple through the battlefield. Rhea and the other Crimson girls launched forward simultaneously, moving with synchronized precision, testing the enemy's reactions. Sparks flew as spells collided, as blades clashed, as energy met energy in bursts of pure force.
The Sovereignty Class countered immediately. No hesitation. No holding back. They struck with ruthless efficiency, using every technique they had. The Crimson girls staggered, some narrowly avoiding elimination, others forced back with sheer power. It was clear: this was a fight to cull the weak, a demonstration of supremacy.
Raya's aura flared, a quiet storm of fire and steel coiled around her. She blocked an attack from a twin-striker pair, twisting midair to redirect one blast into the other. Every second counts. Every move could be the difference between life and elimination.
Rhea tried to support her teammates, but every attempt left her drained, energy bleeding faster than she could recover. A wave of mana from an approaching caster slammed into her side, forcing her to the edge of a platform. Her body sagged under the strain, each movement a test of endurance.
And through it all, Sage remained unseen, watching. Her eyes didn't waver from the chaos, reading the battlefield, calculating the perfect moment. She was a shadow waiting to strike—a hidden ace in reserve.
One by one, the Crimson students fell under the relentless onslaught. Only Raya, Rhea, and a few of the strongest remained, clinging to the shattered platforms, their breaths shallow, their resolve burning brighter than exhaustion.
From the shadows, Sage's fingers twitched. She could feel the right moment approaching. The field was set. The surviving Sovereignty fighters were overconfident, careless, thinking the battle nearly won. And when Kira's signal came, the true lesson would begin.
The arena waited. The air seemed to thrum with silent anticipation, the calm before the storm. And Sage… she waited, ready to become the storm.