Chapter 2 – The Duel of Hell Class

The training arena shone under the crystal lamps overhead, runes carved into the floor pulsing with faint light. It was designed for combat drills, but tonight it felt like a coliseum. Students crowded the edges, whispering eagerly, hungry for spectacle.

At the center stood Renjiro Arakawa, fire crackling along his fists, his golden hair gleaming with heat. Beside him, Reika Kurogami extended a pale hand, her lips tracing an incantation, her violet-red eyes cold and merciless.

And across from them—unarmed, unmoving, unshaken—stood Tendou Shinsei.

The tension was suffocating. For most of Class 1-D, this wasn’t just about pride. It was vengeance, a chance to drive out the man they despised.

The referee gave the signal.

Renjiro lunged first, his fists blazing.
“Burn out, old man!”

Each punch landed with explosive force, fire scorching across the stone floor. The ground cracked beneath his boots. Yet Shinsei shifted calmly, each movement minimal, almost lazy—sliding just enough for fire to pass him harmlessly.

Murmurs rose in the stands.
“He’s not even countering…”
“Is he afraid?”
“No… look closer…”

Reika’s voice cut through, sharp as a blade.
“O shadows, devour him whole!”

Her spell completed. Black serpents of shadow erupted from the sigil at her feet, lunging toward Shinsei with snapping jaws. They coiled, hissed, and struck from every angle.

Shinsei finally raised his hand. A faint shimmer of blue erupted around him—quiet, subdued, yet absolute. The shadows froze midair, their forms unraveling like smoke before vanishing entirely.

Gasps spread through the crowd.

“That’s… Anti-Magic.”
“No way… that’s forbidden!”
“Blue… that color means—he’s one of the strongest.”

Renjiro growled, fury igniting. “Don’t ignore me!” He swung again, fire roaring.

Shinsei did not answer. He simply reached to his side, pulling the sheath of a katana. But instead of drawing the blade, he hurled the sheath itself with pinpoint precision. It struck Renjiro in the gut with brutal force, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him sprawling across the floor.

The arena went silent.

Reika faltered mid-chant, her lips trembling. The incantation died in her throat.

Shinsei’s figure blurred—one step, then gone. Before Reika could blink, he was at her side, his voice like thunder.
“Slow.”

A single strike, faster than her eyes could follow, knocked her spellbook from her hands and sent her collapsing onto the floor.

The stands erupted in shock. Students shouted, some in disbelief, others in awe. They had never seen such speed, such ruthless efficiency.

For Shinsei, it was nothing more than habit. The style of a soldier who had survived war.

From the shadows of the crowd, two figures remained calm—Ayato Shiranui and Elise Fraulein, the hidden observers from the Order Prism. Their eyes narrowed, memorizing every detail.

“He still has it,” Ayato murmured.
Elise’s gaze flickered. “No… he has something else. Do you feel it? That presence. It’s not just him. There’s another energy here… faint, but dangerous.”

Ayato’s expression darkened. “Serpent influence. They’re watching him, too.”

In the arena, Shinsei stood alone, silent as the two students lay defeated at his feet. He didn’t raise his hands in triumph, nor did he smile. His crimson eyes scanned the class, burning through their pride and fear alike.

“This,” he said, his voice echoing across the stunned room, “is reality. Spells, pride, lineage—none of it matters if you can’t survive. If you’re slow, if you hesitate, if you waste time with vanity—you die. And I will not let my students die.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any applause. For the first time, Class 1-D understood that the man they had mocked was no ordinary teacher.

He was a soldier. A predator.
And from that day forward, he would be their merciless instructor.