Tournament[1]
The competition was going to be held in Section A. After waking up, I made my way to the cafeteria, my mind already focused on the fights ahead. The cafeteria was filled with students, some casually chatting, others nervously eating as they mentally prepared for the tournament. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling meat filled the air, but I wasn't hungry. My stomach was too tense for that.
After grabbing a bottle of water, I walked to my personal training room—a small but well-equipped space allocated to the participants for warm-ups. The walls were sleek metal, reflecting the artificial lights above, and the floor had soft padding to absorb impact.
I raised my left arm and tapped on my bracelet. Instantly, a blue holographic screen appeared, displaying the items stored in my bracelet:
1. C-Rank Sword
2. Energy Potions (3x)
I tapped on the C-Rank Sword, and a glowing light emerged before the blade materialized in my hand. The sword was slightly longer than a short sword, with a well-balanced grip and a sharp, clean edge. I took a deep breath, then started practicing.
The tournament was set to start at 12 o'clock, and the current time was 10 AM. That gave me an hour and a half to refine my movements before freshening up for the match.
Huff… huff… My breath came out in short bursts as I swung the sword repeatedly sword was harder to learn than a dagger , each motion flowing into the next. By the time I stopped, sweat dripped from my forehead. I sheathed my sword and headed toward the washroom. After a quick shower, I changed into my battle attire—a black t-shirt and black pants, with a scabbard strapped to my left side, containing the sword. However, I had to submit my weapon before the matches began. It would only be available to me in Round 3, provided I got that far.
I walked toward Section A, where a large crowd of students had already gathered. Some had serious expressions, their eyes sharp and focused, while others observed the competitors with curiosity or mild amusement. Conversations filled the air, voices mixing together as anticipation built.
A massive elevated stage stood a few meters above the ground, with a sleek black microphone at its center. Behind the mic stood Vex Dorian—the principal of our school. He was a handsome man, seemingly in his twenties, with long black hair tied up and crimson eyes that held an authoritative yet calm gaze. He wore an orange t-shirt and white pants, a simple but striking combination that only added to his intimidating presence.
Behind him, several professors stood in a neat row, their faces unreadable.
Vex Dorian's deep voice rang out, commanding silence.
"Hello, everyone present here." His tone was firm, carrying a weight that made people straighten up.
"You have all gathered here for one purpose—to prove your strength. This is your first step in real combat, where skill, strategy, and power will determine the victor. You will each be assigned a number, and when your number is called, you will step onto the stage."
A pause. His crimson eyes swept across the crowd.
"Let's begin, shall we?"
Round 1 Begins
The first round was 1 vs 1, with 500 first-years competing. The arena was massive, filled with spectators from all years—first, second, third, and even fourth-years. Some older students watched with a calculating gaze, analyzing the first-years like hunters observing potential prey.
As competitors, we were seated in a large waiting room on the left side of the arena, a thick glass window separating us from the battlefield. In front of us was a huge screen where the fights would be displayed.
I glanced at my device, which showed my assigned number—111.
There were 10 fights happening at the same time in each round that meant 25 fights, before moving to the next part of tournament.
Suddenly, a robotic voice announced the first matchups:
Round 1:
Number 1 vs Number 23
Number 34 vs Number 76
Number 31 vs Number 2
Number 3 vs Number 422
Number 88 vs Number 4
Number 8 vs Number 499
Number 9 vs Number 332
Number 99 vs Number 78
Number 80 vs Number 10
Number 11 vs Number 29
I exhaled in relief. My number wasn't in Round 1.
I leaned back, relaxing slightly as the huge screen flickered to life, displaying all 10 matches simultaneously. The clarity was so high that we could clearly see every detail of the fights.
My attention immediately locked onto Fight #3 i saw one of my old classmate Patrick vs Number 31.
---
Patrick I remembered had an ice type ability his rank was hmm E yess he was one of the strongest in our class
Patrick, my old classmate, with medium Grey hair and a good build was standing with his back straight.
His opponent was a tall, bulky girl with orange hair. From her build, it was clear she relied on raw physical strength.
As soon as the match started, she charged forward, her fists clenched tightly.
BAM!
She swung a massive punch, aiming straight for Patrick's chest.
But Patrick remained calm.
SHHHK!
A jagged ice shield instantly formed in his left hand, absorbing the impact. The shield shattered on impact, but when the dust cleared—
The girl's right fist was bleeding.
Her eyes flickered with hesitation for just a moment.
Patrick saw the opening.
Without wasting time, he formed another ice shield—but this time, he didn't defend.
Instead, he punched her with the ice shield.
BAM!
The impact sent her stumbling backward, her boots scraping against the arena floor. Her expression twisted into frustration.
She leaped into the air, aiming for a dropkick.
But the moment her foot was about to strike Patrick's shoulder—
His shoulder transformed into sharp ice thorns.
Her eyes widened in shock. She twisted her body mid-air, trying to retreat, but—
THUD!
Her balance broke, and she hit the ground, landing awkwardly.
Patrick didn't hesitate. He rushed forward, summoning another ice shield.
CRACK!
A single shield punch to the head.
She went unconscious instantly.
The robotic voice announced:
"Number 2 wins!"
I smirked. Patrick had gotten stronger.
---
After about 1-2 hours, Round 1 ended.
In round 2
I saw another old classmates of mine , Mathew who was number 71 he had very short dark red hair which made his face looked round , in his fight against Number 189 a wind ability user
Mathew specialized in fireballs, a fire-elemental variant that wasn't pure fire but still effective.
His fight lasted for 9 minutes it was a close fight but he won .
---
Finally, Round 3 was announced.
"Round 3 Matches:"
Number 5 vs Number 39
Number 233 vs Number 99
Number 500 vs Number 111
Number 12 vs Number 450
Number 287 vs Number 178
Number 97 vs Number 331
Number 215 vs Number 423
Number 68 vs Number 141
Number 356 vs Number 71 (Mathew again)
Number 94 vs Number 275
I clenched my fists.
It was finally my time to shine.
I stood up and walked toward the arena.