Zareck was already moving.
He sprinted toward Sui, his left hand beginning to gather spiritual energy, instinct taking over before thought could catch up. Pain still throbbed through his right hand, but that only sharpened his focus. If overloading one hand had worked once, then doing it again should end this fast.
He was three steps away when she shouted.
"I give up."
The words came out sharp and hurried, almost cracking.
Zareck did not even have time to feel surprise.
A cultivation instructor appeared between them in a blur, one hand already on Sui's shoulder. In the next instant both of them vanished from the arena floor as if they had never been there.
Zareck skidded to a halt, left hand still glowing faintly with gathered energy. He stood there breathing hard, confusion washing over him a second too late.
Behind him, the three level one followers reacted almost at the same time. Panic crossed their faces. One of them raised his hands, another took a step back, and the third simply turned and ran. Cultivation instructors moved again, removing them from the arena one by one without ceremony.
Just like that, the space around Zareck emptied.
The noise of nearby fights seemed distant for a moment, as if he were underwater.
His left hand relaxed, energy dispersing harmlessly this time. His right hand trembled badly now, fingers twitching on their own. The skin had darkened to an ugly purple, veins standing out clearly.
"Zareck."
Will's voice cut through the haze.
Zareck looked up to see Will jogging toward him, breathing a bit harder than usual but otherwise unhurt. Will slowed when he got close, his eyes immediately locking onto Zareck's right hand.
His expression darkened.
"What did you do?" Will asked.
Zareck flexed his fingers. The motion sent a sharp pulse of pain up his arm. He winced despite himself.
"It's just a combat orientation," Will said, his voice low. "An odd one, yeah, but nothing more. Why are you pushing your body like that?"
Zareck opened his mouth to answer, then stopped.
He did not know.
Winning mattered, but not this much. He was not fighting for pride, or reputation, or even survival. No one here could kill him. The instructors would not allow it.
Yet in that moment, facing two opponents, he had pushed without hesitation.
Zareck let out an awkward laugh. "I guess I got carried away."
Will did not laugh back.
He shook his head slowly, eyes still on the trembling hand. "You're insane."
"Probably," Zareck said.
They stood there for a moment, letting the tension drain.
Only then did Zareck really look around.
The arena had changed.
Where before there had been chaos everywhere, now there were wide stretches of empty floor. Fights still happened, but they were scattered and fewer. Instructors were more relaxed, no longer jumping at every clash.
Zareck counted quickly.
Roughly thirty kids remained.
He was still taking that in when Will nudged him lightly. "Hey. Look."
Zareck followed his gaze.
At the far side of the arena, nearly two thirds of the remaining fighters were gathered in a rough cluster near the wall. They were not fighting each other. They were all facing the same direction.
One person.
Malichi.
Zareck's eyes widened.
Malichi stood at the centre of it all, robes slightly rumpled, hair loose around his shoulders. He was smiling, but not casually. There was focus in his eyes, sharp and intent.
Around him were at least twenty opponents.
Some hesitated. Some circled. A few already lay groaning on the ground, waiting for instructors to remove them.
Zareck blinked. "Is he… fighting all of them?"
Will stared, then let out a short laugh. "Looks like it."
The situation made no sense.
Malichi was strong, yes. Talented, without question. But even for him, fighting that many at once should surely be impossible.
Another group rushed him.
Malichi moved.
He did not charge. He did not retreat. He stepped forward calmly, palm striking one attacker in the chest, then pivoted to sweep another off his feet. His movements were clean and efficient, no wasted motion.
A third tried to grab him from behind.
Malichi twisted, elbow flashing back, and the boy crumpled with a gasp.
Zareck felt a strange mix of awe and disbelief.
"They're not holding back," Will said quietly.
"No," Zareck replied. "They're trying to take him down together."
And failing.
Without another word, both of them started running.
Zareck ignored the pain in his hand as he sprinted across the arena. Each step sent dull pulses up his arm, but adrenaline drowned most of it out. Will stayed close at his side.
As they approached, a few fighters noticed them and faltered, glancing back and forth.
Zareck did not slow.
He reached the edge of the crowd just as one boy lunged at Malichi with a reckless shout.
Zareck stepped in and struck.
He did not use Tiger Claw Fingers. He did not gather excess energy. He simply drove his shoulder into the boy's side, knocking him off balance, then followed with a sharp kick to the back of the knee.
The boy collapsed.
Will was already moving, intercepting another attacker who had been circling wide. Will's movements were fluid, confident. He blocked a punch, twisted the arm, and sent the attacker sprawling with a controlled throw.
Malichi glanced at them briefly.
His smile widened.
"About time," he said.
Zareck did not answer. There was no time.
The fight exploded outward.
Now it was three against many.
Zareck positioned himself slightly to Malichi's right, protecting his injured hand by favouring his left side. He focused on spacing, keeping attackers from rushing Malichi all at once.
Will handled the flanks, moving constantly, breaking up pairs before they could coordinate.
Despite the numbers, the momentum shifted almost immediately.
The attackers hesitated now. Fear crept in. Not just fear of Malichi, but fear of all three of them together.
Zareck caught a glimpse of the elders watching from above. He wondered briefly what they were thinking.
Then another opponent rushed him, and thought vanished entirely.