Tournament!

✦ The Devil Wakes ✦

The day of the tournament finally arrived.

Capital One Arena stood vast and imposing at the edge of the academy grounds, a structure built precisely for spectacles like this—a stadium by all appearances, yet the floor was crafted from a unique adhesive compound designed to keep impacts contained, the dust settled, and any devastating collisions from tearing the grounds apart. Tier after tier of seats rose up from the central field, wrapping the combat zone in a sea of eager spectators.

Today, those seats were packed. Every second and third-year student had turned out to watch, many clustered together by class and rank. Even the prestigious Child Of Lights from years one to three had gathered in prominent rows. Though the first-year chosen ones wouldn't be participating—their magic already far beyond this proving ground—they were present in full force to watch the slaughter unfold.

Claire was among them, her silver hair unmistakable in the crowd, her expression hidden but her eyes sharp and calculating.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the dim quiet of a dorm room far from the roaring crowds, a figure stretched languidly on a narrow bed. Arms rose above his head, joints popping as he gave a catlike yawn. Darkness still clung to the corners of the room, but a sly grin had already carved itself across his face—like the slow, sinister curling of a predator's lips.

"So it's today, huh… All the preparations are ready," he whispered to no one. Aether's eyes gleamed as he pushed himself upright. "And since I heard the first-year chosen ones aren't participating… sigh, can't be helped. But… I know exactly how to make him move."

His smile deepened, almost feral, as he ran a hand through his hair. The room seemed to darken around him, a shadow stretching that hinted at something more devilish than human. Then, with the lazy finality of a cat who'd decided the hunt would be amusing, he left to meet his fate.

✦ The Whistle Blows ✦

When the sun rose high over the arena, the entire student body was already assembled. Chatter ricocheted across the stands, a rising storm of laughter, excited bets, and hushed speculations about which class would be humiliated first.

Soon enough, a small procession made its way onto a raised platform near the field. At its center stood the headmaster himself, an elderly man with a kind smile and sharp, fox-like eyes that missed nothing.

"Hello, students," the headmaster began, his voice rolling smoothly over the crowd. "This is, as you know, merely a friendly tournament. I trust there will be no casualties—at least none lasting." He chuckled softly, a sound that somehow managed to be both reassuring and faintly threatening. "I wish you all the best of luck. Now then… let it begin!"

A loud, piercing whistle sliced through the air.

"Beepppp!"

And just like that, the first year's first tournament was underway.

✦ A One-Sided Slaughter ✦

The rules were simple: groups with the most standing members at the end would be declared the winners. Unsurprisingly, the mages wasted no time. Spells flared across the field like a storm of fireworks, bright sigils burning against the sky. Fireballs roared, water whips cracked, stones surged from the ground to hammer their targets.

Non-mages scrambled to activate defensive mechanisms—small shields, crude auto-barriers, half-finished deflection rods. But most were new to crafting such things, their designs raw and riddled with flaws. The onslaught was brutal. One by one, their mechanisms failed, shattered under waves of overwhelming magical power.

Above it all, the mages laughed. "Haha, this is too easy!" one sneered, energy swirling at his fingertips as he prepared another strike. It was less a competition and more a purge.

✦ A Still Point in the Chaos ✦

Claire watched from her seat among the chosen ones, her chin resting on her clasped hands. Olivia was perched on the row below, twisting around to peer up at her. "So it's today, huh? You seem calm, Claire. But… the first-year chosen ones aren't even competing. Aren't you bored?"

Claire didn't answer immediately. Instead, a small, almost mischievous smile curved her lips. Her gaze narrowed, locking onto a single figure out on the field.

"Yeah… they aren't. But don't worry, I know exactly how to make him move."

"Eh? Claire sis, what do you mean by that?" Olivia's brow furrowed in confusion.

With that same quiet smile, Claire leaned back. "You'll see soon enough."

On the field, the massacre continued—until it didn't.

Suddenly, scattered shouts rose over the din. "Hey! Hey! Look at that! That guy's mechanism—it's not breaking! No matter how hard we hit it!"

Claire's eyes flashed with delight. "Ah, guess it's time to play, huh."

✦ The Spider at the Center of the Web ✦

Out on the torn-up tournament grounds, amid the scattered scraps of shattered defenses, one structure still stood pristine. A complex lattice of reinforced panels and gleaming arcs of power conduits thrummed quietly, deflecting every blast thrown its way.

Behind it stood Aether, hands tucked casually in his pockets, half-lidded eyes tracking the chaos with cool indifference.

He let out a soft sigh, his breath curling into a faint laugh. "You guys… are boring. I didn't come here to toy with the likes of you."

His gaze slid upward, finding Lucas in the stands. That old rival looked anything but calm, his jaw clenched, hands gripping the rail. Aether's smile sharpened.

"Hurry up and come down, Lucas-kun… mama's waiting," he purred, voice dripping playful malice.

"Ehh… Claire sis, is this what you meant?" Olivia turned again, eyes wide.

"Mm-hmm," Claire replied, her smile bright and proud. "When it comes to mechanisms, no one can beat him. He's been studying them since he was a kid. At first, he found it dull… but eventually, he fell in love with building. It's one of the reasons our family sent him here in the first place."

✦ The Turning of Tides ✦

On the field, the tide was shifting in real time. As the mages hurled spell after spell, draining their mana reserves, Aether's classmates began to realize it—those precious mana pools were drying up. With renewed hope, they launched attacks of their own, overwhelming the exhausted mages in hand-to-hand clashes and basic countermeasures.

The laughter from the stands died down, replaced by stunned silence. Even the headmaster leaned forward slightly, brows raised. The mighty gap between mages and non-mages… closing? Before everyone's eyes?

Far above, Ryan practically frothed at the mouth. "Tch! That kid's just lucky!" he spat, glaring daggers down at Aether.

Meanwhile, Lucas was seething. His nails dug crescent moons into his palms. Every triumphant cheer from the stands for Aether was like a personal insult.

Aether watched it all unfold with gleaming satisfaction. "Ohhh, you're more worked up than I expected. Crap—I really love guys like this. Charging right into the trap without a clue…"

✦ The Fuse Lit ✦

Lucas couldn't hold back anymore. He shot to his feet, voice echoing across the stadium. "Tch! All of you are worthless weaklings—can't even crush one useless boy with his cheap mechanisms?!"

In that instant, Aether's grin went razor-sharp. "There it is. That's my cue."

The crowd shifted, tension spiraling. Every eye swung between Lucas and the calm, faintly amused figure standing unscathed on the battlefield below.

✦ To Be Continued

(Jojo'z Theme erupts, as the camera spirals from Aether's sly grin to Lucas's fury, the entire stadium hanging breathless for the next strike.)