"Let the games begin."
Valen's voice didn't just boom over the magical speakers; it seemed to vibrate in the fillings of my teeth. He sat back in the Royal Box, legs crossed, looking like a Roman emperor deciding who got to be lion food.
The crowd, however, was less composed. The stands were a sea of confusion.
"Squad 7?" the announcer stammered, his voice cracking. "But... they aren't on the roster for Block B! They were reported missing in action!"
The five students standing opposite us—clad in matching polished steel armor with blue capes—looked insulted. Their leader, a tall second-year with a buzzcut and a tower shield, stepped forward.
"This is a joke," he spat, banging his mace against his shield. "We are the Iron Phalanx. We don't fight dropouts who fall from the ceiling covered in dust."
I looked down at myself. I was indeed covered in dust, dungeon grime, and a little bit of slime residue. Kaelen looked like a dark knight who had been dragged through a chimney. Ria was picking cobwebs off her Phase Blades.
"We didn't drop out," I called out, my voice surprisingly steady. "We were just... training. Deep training."
"Deep is right," Tybalt mumbled, clutching his invisible cloak (which was currently deactivated and looked like a grey blanket). "So deep."
"Disqualify them!" the Buzzcut Leader shouted at the referee. "They're interfering with a sanctioned match!"
The referee, a nervous-looking mage in striped robes, looked up at the Royal Box.
Valen raised a hand. Silence fell instantly.
"I sanction it," Valen said smoothly. "The Iron Phalanx was complaining about a lack of competition. Consider this... a stress test. If Squad 7 wins, they take Squad 12's spot in the bracket."
"And if we lose?" I asked, looking up at him.
Valen smiled. "Then you go back to the hole you crawled out of."
The crowd cheered. They didn't care about rules; they wanted drama. And five dirty first-years crashing the party was peak drama.
"Ren," Kaelen whispered, gripping the handle of The Prototype. "This sword... it's humming. It wants to hit something."
"Don't kill them," I hissed back. "This is a sport, not a war. Use the flat of the blade. And dial the output down to 5%."
"5%?" Kaelen frowned. "That's barely a warm-up."
"Trust me."
"Squads ready!" the referee shouted, scrambling out of the blast zone. "Begin!"
The Iron Phalanx moved instantly. They were disciplined. Three shield-bearers locked ranks in the front, forming a steel wall, while two mages behind them began charging bombardment spells.
"Formation A!" Buzzcut yelled. "Crush them!"
They charged. The ground shook under their heavy boots.
"Standard phalanx," I noted, watching their movements with [Observer Vision]. "Weakness: Flanks and mobility."
I pointed forward. "Kaelen. Break the line."
Kaelen didn't run. He walked. He held the massive black greatsword with one hand, letting the tip drag on the stone floor.
SCREEEE.
The sound of the blade carving a groove in the arena floor set everyone's teeth on edge.
Buzzcut sneered. "One swordsman against three tower shields? Idiot. Brace!"
The three shield-bearers slammed their shields into the ground, activating a Fortress skill. A blue energy barrier connected them.
Kaelen stopped five feet away. He didn't use a skill. He didn't yell an anime move name. He just swung the sword.
Horizontal slash.
WHOOSH.
He didn't even touch them.
The air pressure generated by the swing hit the shield wall like a cannonball.
BOOM.
The blue barrier shattered instantly. The three students were lifted off their feet and thrown backward like ragdolls, crashing into their own mages.
The crowd went dead silent.
Kaelen looked at the sword, then at the pile of groaning students. "Oops," he muttered. "Maybe 3% next time."
"Mages exposed!" Ria shouted. "Mine!"
She vanished.
She didn't use invisibility; she just moved that fast. The Phase Blades cut through the air with zero resistance. She appeared behind the two mages who were scrambling to get up.
She didn't stab them. She spun the daggers and tapped the hilts against their helmets.
Clink. Clink.
"You're dead," she whispered.
The mages froze, terrifyingly aware that if the blades had been turned the other way, they would be headless.
Buzzcut, the leader, stumbled to his feet. His shield was dented—from the air pressure. He looked at Kaelen with pure terror.
"Monster," he gasped. "What kind of weapon is that?"
"It's a loaner," Kaelen said dryly.
"Finish it, Cian," I ordered.
Cian unrolled the Infinite Scroll. He didn't need to chant long incantations anymore. The scroll did the heavy lifting.
"Bind."
Black ink shot out of the scroll, turning into physical chains of gravity magic. They wrapped around the entire Iron Phalanx team, hoisting them three feet into the air and leaving them hanging there like a weird art exhibit.
"Match!" the referee squeaked. "Winner: Squad 7!"
The silence in the arena broke. The roar was deafening. It wasn't polite applause; it was the frenzied screaming of a crowd that just saw an underdog annihilate a favorite in under thirty seconds.
"We won?" Tybalt asked, peeking out from behind me. "I didn't even have to be a bush!"
"We won," I said, but I wasn't looking at the crowd.
I was looking at the Royal Box.
Valen wasn't clapping. He was leaning forward, staring at Kaelen's sword. Then his gaze shifted to Ria's daggers. Then to Cian's scroll.
He knew exactly where we got them.
He stood up, adjusted his cloak, and walked out of the box without a word.
"Ren," Kaelen said, sheathing the sword (which felt like sheathing a thunderstorm). "We made a scene."
"We had to," I said. "If we looked weak, he would have crushed us. Now? Now we're assets."
"Assets for what?" Ria asked, spinning her dagger.
"For the main event," I said.
We walked off the arena floor, heading for the contestant tunnels. Other teams backed away from us as we passed, eyeing Kaelen with fear. The "Monster" rumor was back, and this time, it had teeth.
We reached the locker room assigned to Squad 7. It was a small, damp stone room that smelled of sweat and old leather.
I locked the door and cast a quick Silence ward (using a scroll I looted from the dungeon, since I still had zero magic).
"Okay," I said, turning to the team. "Good work. But now the real problem starts."
"Valen?" Cian asked, sitting on a bench and hugging his scroll.
"Valen knows we raided the Admin Room," I said. "Those weapons? They're basically cheated items. If he wanted to, he could disqualify us for using 'illegal equipment'."
"So why didn't he?" Kaelen asked.
"Because he wants to see what happens," I said. "He's bored. And he thinks he can still beat us even with the upgrades."
I pulled the Second Source Code Fragment from my pocket. It pulsed with a soft blue light, humming in harmony with the Prototype sword.
"We have two days before the next round," I said. "I need to integrate this."
"Here?" Tybalt asked. "In the locker room?"
"It's secure enough," I said. "But I need you guys to watch the door. If anyone comes in—Elara, a teacher, Valen—you stall them."
"What does that one do?" Ria asked, peering at the crystal. "The last one let you edit memories. Does this one let you edit... I don't know, gravity?"
"I hope so," I said. "Because I'm tired of throwing rocks."
I sat on the floor. I gripped the crystal.
[Source Code Fragment (2/5)]
[Origin: The Null-Titan]
[Attribute: Physics/Collision]
[Integrate?]
"Physics," I whispered. "That sounds fun."
"Do it," Kaelen said, standing guard.
"Integrate."
CRACK.
The sensation was different this time. The first fragment felt like a mental rewrite. This one felt physical. My bones ached. My skin felt like it was vibrating. I felt heavy, then weightless, then heavy again.
The locker room walls flickered. For a second, I could see through the floor, down into the earth, past the plumbing, past the dungeon we just left, all the way to the void beneath the world.
Then, it snapped back.
I gasped, falling forward onto my hands.
[Integration Successful.]
[Observer Level: 4 -> 5]
[New Skill Unlocked: Noclip (Short-Range)]
[New Skill Unlocked: Kinetic Redirect]
I looked at my hand. The quill tattoo had grown. A geometric pattern now spiraled up my wrist.
"Ren?" Cian asked. "You're... glowing."
"I'm okay," I wheezed, sitting up. I felt... solid. More real than before.
"What did you get?" Ria asked.
I looked at a heavy iron bench bolted to the floor.
"Kinetic Redirect," I murmured.
I punched the air.
I didn't hit anything. But ten feet away, the iron bench dented inward with a massive CLANG, as if an invisible sledgehammer had struck it.
"Whoa," Tybalt jumped. "You have telekinesis?"
"Better," I said, standing up and flexing my hand. "I can transfer impact. If I get hit, I can send the force somewhere else. And if I punch... I can choose where it lands."
"That's broken," Kaelen said, looking impressed. "That's completely unfair."
"We're fighting a guy with Admin privileges," I said. "Fair is for people who aren't trying to save the world."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Someone pounded on the locker room door.
We all froze.
"Squad 7," a muffled voice called out. "Open up. Inspection."
It wasn't Valen. It wasn't Elara.
"That sounds like Professor Thorne," Kaelen whispered. "Vance's uncle."
"Hide the weapons," I ordered. "Kaelen, wrap the sword. Ria, sheath the daggers. Cian, roll the scroll."
I walked to the door, took a deep breath, and deactivated the Silence ward.
I opened the door.
Professor Thorne stood there. He looked furious. Behind him were two Academy Inquisitors—different ones from yesterday.
"Room search," Thorne barked, pushing past me. "We have reports of unauthorized magical artifacts being used in the arena."
He looked at Kaelen, who was casually leaning against his wrapped sword.
"Unwrap it," Thorne ordered.
Kaelen didn't move. "It's a family heirloom, Professor. It's delicate."
"Unwrap. It."
Thorne reached for the sword.
If he touched The Prototype, he would feel the Admin magic. He would know it wasn't from this world.
I had to act.
[Skill: Kinetic Redirect]
I tapped my foot against the doorframe. Just a light tap.
But I redirected the force.
Across the room, the shower pipe "accidentally" burst.
PSSSHHHH!
A jet of high-pressure water exploded from the wall, hitting Professor Thorne directly in the face.
"GAH!" Thorne sputtered, blinded by the spray. He stumbled back, slipping on the wet tiles.
"Oh no!" Tybalt yelled, putting on his best acting performance. "The plumbing! It's the sinkhole damage! The pipes are unstable!"
"Turn it off!" Thorne screamed, flailing.
"I got it!" I yelled, running over and pretending to fumble with the valve. I made sure to spray him one more time before shutting it off.
Thorne stood there, dripping wet, his dignity completely washed away.
"This... this incompetence..." he stammered.
"Sorry, Professor," I said, looking contrite. "Building C really did a number on the infrastructure."
Thorne glared at us. He looked at the wrapped sword, then at his ruined tweed jacket.
"This isn't over," he snarled. "I'll be watching your next match. Closely."
He turned and stormed out, the Inquisitors following him, trying not to slip in the puddles.
I closed the door and locked it.
We all looked at each other.
Then Ria started laughing.
"Did you see his hair?" she gasped. "He looked like a wet rat!"
"Kinetic Redirect," Kaelen mused. "Useful for plumbing accidents."
"We bought time," I said, leaning against the door. "But he's right. They're going to scrutinize everything now."
I looked at the group.
"We need a disguise for the weapons," I said. "We need to make them look normal. Cian, can you make an illusion spell?"
"With the Scroll? Easy," Cian said. "I can make Kaelen's sword look like a giant baguette if you want."
"Let's stick to 'rusty iron sword'," I suggested. "Less conspicuous."
"Next match is in two days," Kaelen said. "Quarter-finals."
"Who are we fighting?" Tybalt asked.
I pulled out the tournament bracket sheet I'd swiped from the hallway.
I looked at the name in the next slot.
Squad 7 vs. Squad 1 (The Royals)
"Squad 1," I read. "Led by..."
I stopped.
"Led by who?" Ria asked.
"Led by Lysandra," I said. "And her new teammate."
I pointed to the name listed next to hers.
Teammate: Jareth Pyke.
"Jareth?" Tybalt asked. "The bully? How did he get on the Royal Squad?"
"Politics," I said. "Or Valen. He's stacking the deck against us. He put the Heroine and the Bully on the same team to force Kaelen into a moral conflict."
Kaelen stared at the paper. "I have to fight Lysandra."
"And Jareth," I added. "But mostly Lysandra. She has Holy magic. Your sword is Dark. If you clash... it's going to be messy."
"We can't hurt her," Kaelen said immediately.
"We won't," I said. "We're going to win. But we're going to do it without hurting the Heroine."
"How?"
I looked at my hand, at the new geometric tattoo.
"By breaking the game," I said. "Again."