Chapter 3 " Refusal to Fall"

The arena had gone deathly quiet. Twenty merciless minutes had passed since the last explosion of mana. 

The barrier flickered, webbed with cracks like a shattered mirror. Smoke and dust drifted lazily under the harsh mana-lamps, turning every breath metallic.

Only two examinees remained standing in the entire ring. Everyone else (dozens of so-called “geniuses” who had bragged for weeks) 

were scattered across the stands now, wrapped in bandages, slumped against railings, or nursing broken arms while they watched the final deathmatch they’d failed to reach.

Kael and Soya hadn’t moved an inch. Kael’s legs shook violently, but his crimson eyes never left his opponent. Blood dripped from his split lip, tracing a slow red line down his chin.

Soya wasn’t any prettier. His left arm hung limp, shoulder visibly dislocated. Shadows still writhed across his skin like living tattoos (the last remnants of his ultimate). 

Silver hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and someone else’s blood. Yet neither fell.

From the upper seats, a defeated third-year (face swollen, one eye black) slammed the railing.

“Fall already, damn it! I had money on the shadow kid!” “Twenty minutes of this crap?!” another loser spat, clutching a cracked rib. 

“I got eliminated in thirty seconds and these first-years are still standing?! ”Bitter laughter and groans rippled through the beaten crowd. 

They had come as kings and left as spectators to two monsters. Kael’s cracked lips twitched into a ghost of a smirk.

“Hey, kid… just drop already.” Soya bared bloodstained teeth in a feral grin. "I’d rather die on my feet than bow to you.”

A ripple of shocked murmurs from the wounded gallery. “That shadow brat just talked back to Kael Voss…?”

“He’s insane. Beautifully insane.” Two broken statues, refusing to crumble. Then came the sound of a single pair of boots descending the stone stairs.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Every bruised head turned. A woman in an emerald cloak stepped into view 

Verdant, official scout of the Neia Club. Four and a half stars glinted on her collar. Living legend.

She stopped at the barrier’s edge and raised one gloved hand.

“Enough.”

Soft green light exploded outward like a spring storm. Bones snapped back into place. Torn flesh re-knit. Blood vanished into healed skin.

Kael blinked as strength flooded his limbs against his will.“…Huh? ”Soya’s face twisted into pure horror.

“No stop healing us! Don’t !” Because he knew. Zero ultimates left. Zero hidden cards.

Only the Shadow Mark burning in his soul and a shattered sword in his grip. If the fight restarted now, he was dead.

Verdant’s voice was calm, almost gentle. “Stand tall, both of you. This exam ends when one of you breaks (body or will).”

The barrier hummed, repairing itself in a cascade of light. The defeated crowd lost their minds.

“She’s restarting it?!” “She’s gonna let the shadow kid die?!” " this scout is ruthless…”

Kael rolled his healed shoulder, a reckless, electric grin splitting his face. He lifted his right hand, palm forward.

“Combustion.”

The word was soft. Then hell arrived. A needle-thin beam of absolute white punched straight through the air. 

The temperature spiked so hard the front-row losers felt their eyebrows singe. The barrier screamed as it tried to contain the pressure.

BOOM.

The shockwave knocked half the spectators off their benches. Someone’s crutches went flying.

When the light died, Soya was already a tumbling black comet. He slammed into the far wall, slid down like a ragdoll, and collapsed.

Breathing.Unconscious.Alive.Dead silence.

Kael lowered his smoking hand, voice light and almost wondering.

“Converts every atom in a straight line into saturated mana… then excites it past critical.”

He laughed (short, wild, alive).“Boom.”

Up in the stands, the defeated prodigies stared with slack jaws.

Verdant’s eyes widened for the first time in years. Then she smiled, slow and satisfied.

“…Oh my.” She stepped through the barrier as if it were mist. “Welcome to the club, Kael Voss.”

Kael didn’t smile back. His gaze drifted to the boy crumpled against the wall.

"If that guy had one more spell… I’d be the one on the ground." His fist clenched. I can never be this weak again.

Hours later Medical Ward 7

Soya woke to a ceiling too white and a heart too heavy. My one chance… gone. He bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

“Why wasn’t I strong enough…?” The door hissed.Heavy boots.“Hey, kid.”Soya didn’t look. His voice cracked.

“I won’t give up. I’ll crawl through hell if I have to”

“Wanting it isn’t enough, simply not giving up doesn't mean you will make it you need us” The words cut deeper than Combustion.

Soya finally turned.

The man was built like a war machine. Old scars, bandaged fists, black coat with a blazing crimson eye emblem.

Ashwel. Rank 3 Striker. Neia Club’s infamous “Hell’s Talent Scout.”

He flicked a silver contract sheet onto the bed. It landed with a soft, dangerous shimmer.

“I watched you refuse to fall, shadow brat.” He leaned in, voice a low growl.

“That’s rarer than any ultimate these spoiled brats bring through the gate.”

The contract pulsed like it had a heartbeat. “Sign before sunrise… and Neia will forge you into something that can crush that white-haired monster next time.”

“Or don’t. And stay broken forever.” Ashwel turned and left without another word.

The door hissed shut. Soya stared at the silver sheet for a long, long time. Then his trembling fingers closed around the pen.

To be continued… 

*Author's note 

Hey 😅 Guys I was working on this chapter for a while so it took so long to come . I hope you all enjoyed it.