Tournament[3]

The cold metal walls of the waiting room hummed softly as Artic leaned against them. His heart pounded. 50 robots. No weapons but the school-issued swords.

His name flashed on the holographic screen overhead.

> Contestant 111: Artic – Please enter Room 34.

He stood up, rolling his shoulders.

"Let's do this."

Stepping inside, he was greeted by a massive, dark chamber. Overhead, red lights blinked, scanning his body.

A robotic voice echoed:

"Select your weapon."

Across the room, a rack slid out, revealing standard-issue swords.

Artic walked up, picked one up, and gave it a quick swing.

Too heavy. Too slow.

He didn't like relying on one big weapon. It restricted movement.

Then, tucked at the very bottom, he spotted them—

Two curved daggers.

Sleek. Light. Fast.

Perfect.

He grabbed them, flipping them between his fingers. The AI registered his selection, and a new message flashed overhead.

> Match Start in 3… 2… 1…

The floor panels opened, and ten sleek, humanoid robots shot up, their glowing red eyes locking onto him.

The moment they lunged, he moved.

Swerve. Slash. Pivot.

His daggers cut through the first bot's neck joint, sending sparks flying. Another swung at him, but he twisted low, stabbing its metal ribs before kicking off it to dodge the next attack.

One down. Two down. Five down.

Fast. But not fast enough.

A mechanical fist caught him in the ribs, sending him skidding across the ground.

"Lona!"

The turtle materialized, floating beside him. Its eyes glowed, firing twin laser beams that scorched two bots clean through their cores.

But more were coming. Fifteen this time.

The AI wasn't holding back.

"Leaf Cutter."

Two sharp, emerald-green leaves shot out from Lona's shell, slicing through metallic limbs. Artic sprinted forward, ducking under a blade strike and driving his dagger straight into a robot's power core.

He twisted. Slashed. Every movement calculated.

But he was slowing down.

His breath grew heavier. Fifteen down. Thirty-five left.

The next wave rushed him—twenty-five this time.

Lona fired another laser. Artic rolled, ducked, and used his surroundings, leaping off a broken bot's body to gain height.

Then—he flipped mid-air.

His daggers tore through two more robots' heads before he landed, sliding between another's legs and slashing upward.

Steel shattered. Sparks flew.

When the final bot collapsed, the screen flashed—

> Time Taken: 30 minutes 54 seconds.

Artic fell to his knees, panting.

"I did it. But… it took way too long."

---

Adam's Fight – A Different Level

Back in the infirmary, Artic sat stiffly, his bruises still fresh.

The massive arena screen displayed the next contestant.

> Contestant 242: Adam – Room 12

Artic leaned forward. He wanted to see just how much faster Adam was.

The countdown began—

3… 2… 1…

The first ten robots emerged.

But Adam didn't move.

Not until they attacked.

Then—

BOOM!

A burst of golden flames exploded around him. His entire body ignited, but instead of burning, the fire wrapped around his skin like armor.

Artic's eyes widened. "What the hell…?"

It wasn't just fire.

It was Phoenix Merge.

A transformation ability.

Adam blurred—a streak of fire and destruction.

His punches melted through steel chests. Every kick left behind flames that continued burning even after the bots fell.

Ten seconds. Ten robots down.

Then, fifteen more came.

Adam just grinned.

He raised his hand, and a flaming spear formed in his palm.

With a single swing—

A massive wave of fire engulfed all fifteen.

Artic watched, stunned.

"He didn't just beat them. He annihilated them."

The final wave—twenty-five at once.

Adam leaped, twisting mid-air, his body coated in phoenix flames.

He dived down like a comet.

When he hit the ground—

A massive explosion tore through the entire field.

When the smoke cleared, every single robot lay in molten wreckage.

The screen flashed—

> Time Taken: 5 minutes 10 seconds.

Artic exhaled slowly.

"This is the difference between us. A real C-Rank fighter."

---

Aftermath 

The next morning, Artic walked outside the arena, where a massive leaderboard was displayed for all participants to see.

His name was somewhere far down the list.

But at the top—

> 1st) Nick - C Rank - 4 Minutes (Class A2)

2nd) Adam - C Rank - 5 Minutes 10 Seconds (Class A3)

3rd) Vincent - C Rank - 9 Minutes 2 Seconds (Class A1)

The crowd buzzed with excitement.

"Nick finished in 4 minutes?! That's insane!"

"Adam's even stronger than I thought… 

Artic felt a cold weight settle in his chest.

He clenched his fists.

"I'm not even close to them. Not yet."

But Artic didn't just want to get stronger.

He wanted to win.