The arena floor was a battlefield carved by extremes. At its center stood Noah Winter, the frozen earth radiating a biting chill around his boots, tiny shards of ice sparkling like diamond dust in his white hair.
Opposite him stood Ray Moir, framed by two towering pillars of roaring flames. There was no warmth in Ray's eyes—only a cold, relentless desire to break his opponent. Clenching his fists, he charged without a word.
Noah watched him approach with an easy grin. what's the rush? At least let the lunch break finish!"
Ray didn't even bother replying. He threw a straight punch aimed directly at Noah's face. Noah ducked smoothly, but the next instant, Ray brought his knee up toward his stomach. Noah leaped backward, planting his palm against the frost-covered stone.
"ICE ART: FROST SPIKES!"
Jagged, razor-sharp spikes of ice erupted from the floor, lunging toward Ray. Without missing a beat, Ray wrapped his fist in concentrated flames and shattered them in a single, concussive blow.
"FIRE ART: BLAZING FIST!"
A massive wave of fire surged toward Noah. Noah crossed his arms, raising a thick wall of solid ice to shield himself. The sheer thermal shock shattered the wall into a million glistening pieces, sending Noah skidding backward across the rink.
"Wow! Even the money for building walls went to waste!" Noah joked, brushing ice dust off his jacket.
Ray ignored the banter, lifting both fire pillars into the air with a sweep of his hand. "FIRE ART: SOLAR FURNACE!"
The pillars condensed into searing spheres of fire, raining down upon Noah like meteors. Noah instantly erected a protective ice dome around himself, but with every deafening explosion, jagged cracks spiderwebbed across the surface. Finally, Ray shattered the dome with a devastating punch, closing the distance instantly.
Noah's eyes widened in mock shock. at least knock first!"
Ray's fist grazed his cheek, but Noah spun gracefully on his heel, driving a counter-punch straight into Ray's gut. Ray stumbled back, his face darkened not by pain, but by furious pride. He cloaked his right hand in blinding fire and charged again. Noah coated his knuckles in dense, shimmering ice.
Their punches collided.
A violent shockwave tore through the arena floor, cracking the stone foundations beneath them.
Noah unleashed a tidal wave of ice from his fist. Ray pulled his arm back and threw every ounce of his remaining strength into a counter.
The two supreme attacks clashed—and the center of the arena collapsed into a smoking crater.
Ray pressed the offensive, unleashing a relentless barrage of punches. Every strike was faster, heavier than the last. Noah dodged and parried by the skin of his teeth, a light, teasing smile still lingering on his lips.
Ray remained silent. He caught Noah's fist mid-swing and violently shoved him back. Noah's skin scraped against the ice, thin lines of blood welling up across his knuckles. Ray's own fists were battered and raw from the endless impacts, yet his gaze never wavered from his target.
Both fighters gathered their remaining reserves. Blue, ethereal light condensed into a thick, glowing layer of frost over Noah's fist, while the fire in Ray's hand flared with the blinding intensity of a miniature sun.
"Let's take the final exam now!" Noah declared. Ray let out a primal roar.
Their fists slammed together.
A cataclysmic explosion tore through the center of the dome. Snow, ash, and thick grey dust swallowed the entire arena in a suffocating shroud. Structural pillars cracked, the ground split open wide, and the surrounding walls groaned under the pressure.
When the dust finally settled, the wreckage was absolute.
Noah was down on one knee, his breathing ragged. Ray knelt a few feet away, leaning heavily on his arm. Both of their hands were bloodied and torn, their chests heaving for air.
Ray tried to force himself up, but his legs betrayed him, trembling before he collapsed back down. Noah attempted to rise as well, only to sink back against the rubble with a weary sigh.
"Looks like my ice battery is running low," he muttered in a drained voice.
Suddenly, a crisp, authoritative voice echoed through the ruined halls:"SPARRING MATCH RESULT: DRAW!"
Ray tightly clenched his bloodied fist, Noah glanced at him, a tired grin spreading across his face. "Definitely! Just make sure to get insurance for the arena next time."
Ray shot him a glare, while the students watching from the safety of the shattered entrance couldn't hold back their laughter.
Before the laughter could fully fade, Kyron stepped into the middle of the wreckage, shaking his head.
"You guys are in a total mess," Kyron said, crossing his arms. "I told you not to try and kill each other!"
Ray threw a sharp, mocking glance toward Noah. "I don't kill those who are weaker than me."
Noah's eyes flashed with irritation as he glared back. "Who did you call weak?!"
Before Ray could fire back, a sharp, metallic sound echoed from the heavy doors at the entrance of the arena. The doors creaked open, and a tall, impeccably well-dressed woman stepped inside. Her hair was as dark as midnight, and she carried a stack of heavy academic books cradled against her arm.
The moment she crossed the threshold, her gaze swept across the catastrophic wasteland of the arena.
"What are you idiots doing here?" Professor Sophia snapped, her voice cutting through the silence like a razor. "I've been waiting for you all in class!"
Every student in the room instantly recognized that voice—the universal sound of impending doom.
Leo stepped forward, adopting his usual calm, diplomatic tone. "Professor Sophia... we just wanted to have a quick little spar."
Sophia's eye twitched. She slowly raised a finger, pointing it directly at the massive crater and shattered pillars surrounding them.
"This is your friendly, little spar?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the broken walls. "You completely trashed the entire arena!"
Her gaze suddenly shifted, landing on Ray and Noah's bloodied, raw hands, where crimson droplets were still dripping onto the cold stone.
Panic instantly flashed across Sophia's face. "Quickly, take these two to the medical chamber! Right now!"
Leo stepped up, nodding briskly. "Okay, Professor. I'll take them." He looked over at his battered friends. "Let's go, Ray and Noah."
Together, the three of them walked out of the ruined arena, stepping out into the academy grounds—just as a torrential downpour broke across the sky. Heavy, violent sheets of rain slammed into the stone walkways.
As they hurried toward the main path, Leo suddenly froze. A strange, low frequency hum—a voice whispering just beneath the sound of the falling rain—seemed to pull at his consciousness.
Ray stopped, turning back with a frown. "Leo, where are you going? The medical chamber isn't that way."
Leo paused, looking back over his shoulder. His expression was glazed, distant. "I don't know... but I feel like I need to go that way. You two go to the chamber, I'll catch up."
Without waiting for an answer, Ray and Noah limped forward toward the medical wing, leaving Leo behind.
Leo turned and began walking in the opposite direction, drawn like a compass needle to a disturbance in the air.
The sound of the rain striking the ground grew louder, sharper, almost deafening. Above them, the sky had completely vanished behind a shroud of suffocating, bruised-black clouds that churned like ink in water.
Step by step, Leo broke into a jog, pushing past the perimeter of the main academy grounds until he stepped out into the open courtyard beyond the gates.
And there it stood.
An ancient, colossal tree—completely dead. Its massive branches stretched out like skeletal fingers into the storm, entirely stripped of life. Not a single leaf remained on its rotting wood.
And standing directly beneath its shadow was a figure.
He was roughly 168 cm tall, with damp brown hair plastered against his forehead. His skin possessed a sickly, translucent pallor, like someone who hadn't seen the sun in decades. His lips were cracked, dry, and bleeding slightly from the cold.
Worst of all was his head.
A continuous, heavy stream of dark crimson blood was steadily leaking from his scalp, soaking through his hair and dripping down the side of his temple. He was facing the dead tree, completely motionless, ignoring the freezing deluge of rain washing over him.
For a long, agonizing moment, the figure didn't move.
Then, slowly, with an unnatural stiffness in his neck, the boy turned his head around to face Leo.
His hair was completely drenched, water streaming down his pale, hollow cheeks, mixing directly with the fresh blood pouring from his head until his entire face was stained a grotesque shade of pink and red.
Despite the gruesome sight—despite the blood, the rain, and the dead tree—the boy's lips curved upward.
He smiled.
It wasn't a warm smile. It was a wide, vacant, dead-eyed grin that stretched too far across his face. As the muscles of his face shifted into that horrific expression, a fresh wave of warm blood spilled from his head, running straight down over his teeth like dripping paint.
The rain roared around them, drowning out the world.
And in a soft, unnervingly normal, conversational tone, the boy whispered into the storm:
"Hello."