The battlefield had reached its breaking point.
Two zones remained active.
Two fighters remained standing.
And both were reaching their limits.
---
Zone Four trembled under the pressure of Seraphina Lys.
Her breathing had grown heavier.
Her once perfect posture had begun to waver.
Golden mana that once surged violently around her now flickered unevenly.
But her eyes—
Still burned.
Still refused to surrender.
Two teachers already lay unconscious behind her.
One collapsed near the barrier wall.
Another sprawled across the cracked stone floor.
Their weapons scattered.
Their armor dim.
Knocked out.
By a single student.
---
Zone Three mirrored the same destruction.
Rynelle Aeris stood barely upright.
His body trembled slightly.
His breathing rough.
His ethereal armor flickered at the edges.
The floating crown above his head glowed faintly—but less stable now.
Two teachers lay defeated around him.
Instructor Dareth—unconscious.
Instructor Valeen—down near the boundary line.
Both knocked out.
Both overwhelmed.
But the cost—
Was enormous.
---
Sweat ran down Rynelle's chin.
His arms felt heavy.
His legs strained under exhaustion.
Mana reserves nearly empty.
Each movement now carried weight.
Each breath now burned.
Still—
He did not fall.
Not yet.
---
Across the field—
Seraphina spun sharply.
Her blade flashed in a wide arc.
The third teacher lunged forward.
Fast.
Precise.
But slower than before.
Because even teachers had limits.
Even teachers grew tired.
Their stamina tested.
Their endurance strained.
And Seraphina—
Was relentless.
---
She stepped forward.
Twisted sideways.
Dodged a sweeping strike.
Her blade moved upward—
A sharp diagonal cut.
The teacher blocked.
But barely.
The impact forced him backward.
Stone cracked beneath his feet.
Seraphina followed instantly.
No hesitation.
No pause.
She spun mid-motion.
Her blade rotated downward.
The strike connected.
Hard.
Clean.
Direct.
The third teacher staggered.
Then collapsed.
Unconscious.
---
Silence spread across Zone Four.
Three teachers—
Defeated.
Only one remained.
A support-type instructor.
Standing several meters away.
Watching.
Breathing unevenly.
For the first time—
Fear flickered across his face.
Not overwhelming fear.
But hesitation.
Doubt.
Uncertainty.
Because the student before him—
Should not still be standing.
Not after this much combat.
Not after this much mana loss.
Not after defeating three trained instructors.
Yet—
She stood.
Barely.
But still standing.
---
Then—
Seraphina swayed.
Her body tilted slightly.
Her breathing grew uneven.
Her grip loosened.
Her blade slipped from her fingers.
Clattered.
Against stone.
She took one more step forward.
Tried to raise her arm.
Tried to continue.
But—
Her body refused.
Her vision blurred.
Her legs gave way.
And—
She collapsed.
---
Gasps echoed across the arena.
"…She fell…"
"…After defeating three teachers…"
"…That's insane…"
The final teacher in her zone stepped back slightly.
His expression tightened.
Because he understood what that collapse meant.
She had reached absolute exhaustion.
Mana drained.
Body pushed beyond limits.
She had nothing left.
---
Zone Three reached its climax at nearly the same moment.
Instructor Ardin remained standing.
One of the strongest among the four assigned teachers.
His breathing had grown heavy.
His armor dented.
His stance slightly unsteady.
But still—
Standing.
Still—
Fighting.
Still—
Dangerous.
---
Rynelle exhaled slowly.
His sword trembled faintly in his grip.
Mana flickered weakly along its edge.
His crown dimmed further.
Barely glowing now.
Instructor Ardin lunged.
One final push.
One final decisive attack.
His blade struck downward—
Fast.
Precise.
Deadly.
---
Rynelle moved.
Not with speed.
Not with power.
But with memory.
Okkotsu's movement surfaced once more.
A slight pivot.
A controlled shift.
A clean redirection.
He stepped sideways—
Barely.
His blade rose upward.
Intercepted.
Redirected.
Then—
Countered.
---
A final strike.
Short.
Sharp.
Perfectly placed.
The impact connected with Instructor Ardin's side.
His body froze.
His balance shattered.
His legs buckled.
Then—
He collapsed.
Unconscious.
---
A teacher—
Down.
Third teacher—
Defeated.
Three instructors defeated by one student.
Silence struck Zone Three like thunder.
Only one teacher remained.
Standing several meters away.
A ranged-class instructor.
His weapon lowered slightly.
His breathing shallow.
His eyes wide.
Not with anger.
Not with pride.
But—
Fear.
---
He looked at the fallen instructors.
Then at Rynelle.
Standing alone.
Barely upright.
Barely conscious.
Barely breathing.
Yet still holding his weapon.
Still facing forward.
Still refusing to fall.
---
Across the arena—
Observers watched in stunned silence.
Even the VIP balcony had gone quiet.
Seraphina lay unconscious in Zone Four.
Rynelle swayed weakly in Zone Three.
Both had defeated three teachers.
Both had pushed themselves beyond normal limits.
Both now faced—
One final teacher.
---
Rynelle's breathing grew heavier.
His vision blurred slightly.
Darkness crept into the corners of his sight.
His arms trembled.
His fingers loosened slightly around his sword.
The floating crown flickered weakly.
Unstable.
Fading.
Almost gone.
---
Across the field—
Seraphina remained motionless.
Collapsed.
Unconscious.
Her last teacher stood still.
Watching her carefully.
Not attacking.
Not approaching.
Because he understood.
One wrong move—
Could push her beyond safe limits.
And despite sparring rules—
They were still teachers.
Not executioners.
---
Back in Zone Three—
The final teacher stepped back.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Fear lingered in his expression.
Because even exhausted—
Even drained—
Even barely standing—
Rynelle Aeris still looked dangerous.
Still unpredictable.
Still evolving.
---
Rynelle tried to lift his sword again.
But his arm refused.
His body shook violently.
His breathing became ragged.
His knees trembled.
Then—
His fingers released the weapon.
The ethereal sword shattered into fading threads.
Disappearing into the air.
The floating crown above his head flickered once—
Twice—
Then dimmed almost completely.
---
He took one step forward.
Tried to stay standing.
Tried to continue.
But—
His body had reached its final limit.
His vision darkened completely.
His legs gave way.
And—
He collapsed.
---
Gasps erupted across the arena.
"…He fell…"
"…After defeating three teachers…"
"…Just like Seraphina…"
"…Both of them…"
"…Collapsed…"
---
Now—
Only one teacher remained standing in each zone.
Two teachers.
Two survivors.
And both—
Looked afraid.
Not of defeat.
Not of losing.
But of what these two students—
Had just proven.
Students capable of defeating three teachers.
Students capable of fighting beyond exhaustion.
Students capable of evolving mid-battle.
Students capable of terrifying growth.
---
High above the arena—
Instructor Virel watched silently.
His expression unreadable.
But inside—
His thoughts shifted heavily.
Because what he had just witnessed—
Was not ordinary talent.
Not ordinary growth.
Not ordinary potential.
This—
Was the rise of monsters.
Not beasts.
Not villains.
But prodigies.
Dangerous prodigies.
And this spar—
Was no longer just training.
It had become proof.
Proof that the academy's balance—
Was about to change forever.