The Grand Arena of Aethelgard was a coliseum built for titans.
One hundred thousand spectators filled the seats. The roar of the crowd was a physical force, a wall of noise that could shake the soul of a weak man.
Banners waved in the wind.
Gold for Class A.
Silver for Class B.
Bronze for Class C.
And in the darkest corner of the arena, where no light seemed to touch, stood Class S.
They wore new uniforms. Kaelen had commissioned them himself using the Pirate King's gold. They were deep midnight blue, trimmed with silver thread. On the back of each robe was a single emblem: A Broken Chain.
"I feel sick," Bo muttered, clutching his stomach. "There are so many people. If I trip, 100,000 people will see my underwear."
"Stand tall," Kaelen commanded, adjusting his gloves. "You are not a thief today, Bo. You are a warrior of Class S."
In the VIP Box, the Principal (Archmage Varian) sat on a throne. He looked benevolent, like a kind grandfather, but Kaelen saw the cold, calculating darkness behind his smile.
Beside him sat General Thorne and Lancelot.
"Let the Tournament Begin!" The Principal announced, his voice amplified by magic.
"The First Round is the Qualifier! To enter the main battles, you must prove your power."
A massive object was lowered into the center of the arena.
It was the Bell of Judgement.
It was an ancient bronze bell, covered in runes, hanging from a massive archway. It weighed fifty tons.
"Strike the Bell!" The Referee shouted. "The number of rings determines your score. 1 Ring is a Pass. 5 Rings is Elite. 9 Rings is Legendary."
...
The Elite Classes.
Class A went first.
Valerian, whose arm had been healed (though he still flinched when he saw fire), stepped up. He glared at Class S.
"Watch and learn, rejects," Valerian spat.
He drew a Greatsword.
"Mountain Cleaver!"
CLANG!
He struck the bell with all his might.
Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong... Bong.
"6 Rings!" The Referee shouted. "Excellent!"
The crowd cheered. "As expected of Class A!"
Cedric (the noble Kaelen humiliated at the gate) stepped up next. He used a Golden Spear.
CLANG!
"7 Rings!"
Cedric smirked, basking in the applause. He pointed his spear at Kaelen. "Top that, peasant."
One by one, the students struck the bell. Most got 3 or 4 rings. Lancelot didn't participate in the qualifiers; as the Student President, he was seeded directly into the finals.
Finally, it was Class S's turn.
The crowd booed. "Get off the stage!" "Go back to the basement!" "Don't break your bones!"
Kaelen ignored them. He looked at Dante.
"Dante. You're up. Remember the lesson."
Dante walked up to the massive bell. He didn't draw a weapon. He stood with his hands in his pockets.
The crowd laughed. "He forgot his sword!"
Dante smiled. "Sword? I am the weapon."
He pulled his right hand out. A small, spinning Blue Lotus Flame hovered on his fingertip. It wasn't big. It looked like a candle flame.
"That's it?" Valerian laughed from the sidelines. "That won't even warm the metal!"
Dante flicked his finger.
"Bloom."
The tiny blue flame shot forward. It hit the thick bronze of the bell.
There was no CLANG.
Instead, there was a HISSSSSS.
The blue flame didn't push the bell. It drilled into it. The heat was so concentrated that the bronze turned to liquid instantly. The flame punched a clean, fist-sized hole right through the thick metal.
The shockwave from the thermal expansion vibrated the bell from the inside.
HUUUUUUUUUUUM.
It wasn't a ring. It was a deep, resonant hum that made everyone's teeth ache.
The Referee stared at the hole in the ancient artifact.
"Uh..." The Referee checked the mana readings. "The vibration equivalent... is... 8 Rings."
The crowd went silent. The boy had melted the Bell of Judgement?
Dante blew on his finger like it was a smoking gun. "Too easy."
"Next! Elara!"
The Demon Girl walked up. She dragged her Blood-Drinker Scythe.
She didn't use magic. She used speed.
Slash.
She moved so fast she vanished. She appeared on the other side of the bell.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then, a thin red line appeared on the bronze surface.
DING.
A sharp, high-pitched note cut through the air.
"7 Rings!"
"Next! Grom!"
The Orc cracked his knuckles. He activated the Titan-Grip Gauntlets.
BAM!
He punched the bell. The bell swung wildly, almost ripping off its chains.
"7 Rings!"
The audience was stunned. The "Rejects" were scoring higher than the Nobles. 8, 7, 7. These were scores for geniuses.
"Who trained them?" General Thorne whispered in the VIP box, his eyes narrowed. "Three weeks ago, they were garbage. Now they are soldiers."
Finally, it was Kaelen's turn.
"Last student! Kael!"
Kaelen walked up. The stadium fell silent. Everyone wanted to see what the leader of the monsters could do.
Kaelen stood before the bell. He looked at the hole Dante made. He looked at the scratch Elara made.
"A bit messy," Kaelen critiqued softly.
He placed his palm gently on the surface of the bell.
"He's going to push it?" Cedric scoffed. "He has no weapon!"
Kaelen closed his eyes.
He didn't use force. He used Resonance.
Every object has a natural frequency. If you match it, you can control it.
Kaelen sent a pulse of Dragon Qi into the metal. He found the bell's heartbeat.
And then, he flicked it.
Just a finger flick.
Ting.
It was a soft sound. Like a spoon hitting a glass.
The crowd erupted in laughter.
"HAHAHA! That was it?"
"1 Ring! He failed!"
"What a loser!"
The Referee raised his hand. "Score: 1 Ri—"
CRACK.
The sound cut off the Referee.
A massive crack appeared where Kaelen had flicked the bell.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
The cracks spread like lightning webs, covering the entire fifty-ton structure in milliseconds.
The laughter died in their throats.
Kaelen turned around and started walking away.
"Wait for it," Kaelen whispered.
SHATTER.
The massive bronze bell didn't just break. It disintegrated. Billions of bronze shards rained down onto the arena floor, turning into sparkling dust.
The Bell of Judgement was gone.
The vibration hadn't rung the bell. It had overloaded it.
Kaelen walked past the stunned Referee.
"Score that," Kaelen said.
Silence. Absolute, terrified silence.
In the VIP Box, the Principal's wine glass shattered in his hand.
General Thorne stood up, his chair scraping loudly.
Lancelot's eyes were wide behind his glasses.
"He didn't hit it," Lancelot whispered, sweating. "He destroyed its internal structure with a single tap. That requires perfect mana control. Who is he?"
The Referee looked at the pile of dust.
"Score..." The Referee's voice trembled. "Infinite. Class S... Advances to the Main Event!"
Bo ran up to Kaelen, dancing. "Boss! You broke another machine! We are going to get billed for this!"
"Let them bill me," Kaelen smiled, looking up at the VIP box, locking eyes with the Principal. "I'm just getting started."
The Qualifier was over. Class S hadn't just passed. They had declared war on the entire Academy.
Author Note: "If you like the story, please vote with Power Stones! It helps me write faster."