CHAPTER 90— The "Odd Trio" and the "Loser Trio"(3)
Inside the digital simulation arena, the battle raged on with fierce intensity.
Freshman Group 42 maintained their structured formation, though the friction of combat was starting to stress their operational lines. Rowan stood firmly at the vanguard, his prismatic axe gripped tightly in his hands.
Behind him, Sarina covered the mid-range corridors, while Damon held the outer flank, effortlessly parrying incoming spells with calculated precision.
Even as Damon deflected a stray bolt of lightning, his sharp eyes flicked sideways, observing Rowan.
Rowan drew back his blade, muscles tensing as he channeled his mana. With a grunt, he swung the weapon forward.
"Water Chop!"
A heavy, fluid-infused crescent of water erupted from the blade's edge, racing across the arena. But his hands were trembling visibly.
It wasn't the fine tremor of physical exhaustion but a tight, involuntary shudder running straight down to his bones.
The repeaters casually flicked their wand and staves, easily shattering the water chop with a combined cross-element counter-spell.
As their counter-attack surged forward, the spells rippled through the air, tinged with the distinct, heavy dark hue standard to the simulation environment.
Rowan froze.
The swirling, dark-tinted spell rushing toward him abruptly distorted in his vision.
The sharp glare of the arena lights vanished, replaced by the choking, suffocating gloom of the Rune Island caverns. He saw the corrupt, suffocating dark magic of the dark mage he had met in the island, closing in around him all over again—the terrifying abyss that had nearly consumed him.
His breath hitched. Rowan bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, his eyelids snapping shut as his limbs locked up entirely. He couldn't move a muscle.
Clutch.
Before the dark-tinted spell could impact him, Sarina grabbed a handful of Rowan's collar from behind, violently hauling him backward out of the impact zone. With a flick of her wand, she deployed a compressed wall of water that neutralized the enemy's projectile with a sharp hiss.
"Rowan! Wake up and focus!" Sarina snapped, her voice cutting through the ringing in his ears.
Rowan stood paralyzed, staring blankly at the ground, unable to form a coherent response.
Before Sarina could secure his positioning, another concentrated barrage whistled through the smoke from the repeaters.
Swish—CRACK!
Damon materialized in front of them in a blur of motion, swinging his wand in a wide arc to shatter the incoming barrage into harmless sparks of mana.
Damon turned his head, his expression cold and unimpressed. "What the hell do you two think you're doing standing around in the middle of an active battle?"
Sarina didn't flinch. She kept her sharp eyes locked on Damon's back. "Damon. Hold the front line and keep them off us for a minute. Just a bit."
Damon studied her face for a fraction of a second. Seeing the absolute urgency beneath her calm exterior, he didn't waste breath arguing. With a silent nod, he stepped past them into the vanguard, though he cast a brief, suspicious glance back at Rowan before raising his guard.
Left momentarily shielded behind Damon, Sarina turned her full attention to the shaking boy. She grabbed his shoulders, her grip firm and unyielding.
"Rowan! Look at me. What is your problem?" she demanded, her tone sharp, laced with a mix of frustration and underlying concern. "You've been shaking like a leaf ever since the match started. If you're going to freeze up, do it after we pass, not while we're in the crossfire!"
Rowan swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stared at the cold floor. He hesitated, his voice trembling as the words forced their way out.
"I... I don't know. Every time... every time I see those dark-tinted spells coming toward me..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "It reminds me of Rune Island. The dark magic... I can't stop seeing it."
Sarina clicked her tongue, a sudden wave of realization dawning in her eyes. "Rune Island..." 'Of course. I should have already saw this coming. That incident messed with his head far worse than he let on.'
She didn't offer empty pity or soft coddling—that wasn't her style. Instead, Sarina tightened her grip on his shoulders and shook him slightly, her voice dropping into a harsh, grounding command.
"Snap out of it, Rowan!" Sarina hissed, her eyes blazing with fierce conviction. "Look around you! Are we trapped in some collapsing underground ruin? Are there any dark mages here trying to kill you right now?"
Rowan blinked, his chest heaving as her words pierced the fog in his brain. He looked up, his gaze meeting Sarina's fierce, unyielding stare.
"No," Sarina continued, her tone unrelenting but steady. "There's none here."
"That was weeks ago. You survived that hell, and you came back stronger. You got a new weapon from Master Orven, and you fought your way onto this floor. Those aren't dark mages out there—they're just a bunch of slacking repeaters throwing school-sanctioned spells in a controlled simulation. You are not powerless, Rowan. So stop living in the past and look at the present!"
The harsh reality of her words acted like cold water thrown over his burning panic. The phantom chill of Rune Island receded, replaced by the real, tangible hum of the arena around them.
Up ahead, Damon deflected another heavy spell, sliding back a few inches under the pressure. He threw a glance over his shoulder.
"If your little heart-to-heart is finished," Damon called out sharply, ducking under a flying wave of wind. "would you two care to rejoin the actual battle?!"
Rowan took a deep, shuddering breath, filling his lungs with cool simulation air. The tremor in his hands slowly faded, replaced by a firm, steady grip. He reached up, gently placing his hand over Sarina's to remove it from his shoulder, offering her a resolute, determined nod.
"Thanks, Sarina." Rowan whispered.
He stepped forward, his posture upright and eyes clear, sliding back into his position at the vanguard. Sarina stepped into her support lane, and Damon reclaimed his flank as the three freshmen locked their formation back into place, fully prepared to face the repeaters head-on.
"So... What should we do, anyone got any plans?" Rowan asked his voice flat but firm.
Sarina's lips curled up just a fraction in relief at the return of his steady composure. "Hey, Damon, you got any plans?" she asked without looking back.
"Why are you asking me? I thought you two were discussing a strategy since you told me to buy you time."
"Oh," Sarina blinked. "So does that mean none of us have an actual plan right now?"
Across the arena, the repeater group remained blissfully casual, acting as though they were hanging out in a campus lounge.
"Yawn... How long is this boring exam is gonna get dragged on?" the first repeater, a lanky senior named Julian Jinoaha, complained, stretching his arms.
"Yeah, I want to get back to my Harem simulator game already." The second repeater, a laid-back guy named Caleb Socaba who had been casually checking his watch just minutes prior, finally lowered his arms and let out a soft sigh.
"Alright, let's just get it over with," the third repeater—their de facto leader, a sharp-eyed senior named Mason Minsermine—said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the zone.
"It was a decent match, but if we drag this out any longer, we're going to miss the bakery's afternoon dessert window."
Before Rowan could process the sheer audacity of the statement, all three repeaters shifted simultaneously.
There was no countdown, no verbal signal, and no visible casting prep. They simply moved as a single, terrifyingly synchronized organism.
Julian launched a blinding flare of fire magic straight down the center. Simultaneously, Caleb swept his staff across the ground, sending a jagged, high-speed ridge of stones shooting straight toward them.
And Mason suddenly lashed out, hurling bolts of concentrated thunder with terrifying speed.
The color of those incoming spells were heavily tainted with the dark simulation hue.
But this time, Rowan didn't flinch. He kept his grip on his axe firm, his breathing steady, and his posture relaxed. He planted his feet and swung his heavy blade.
"Fire Chop!"
A roaring, blazing crescent of fire erupted forward to meet the incoming assault. Right behind him, Sarina launched a stabilizing razor sharp wind to counteract Caleb's earth spike, while Damon smoothly neutralized Mason's lightning bolts with a calculated counter-shock.
The repeaters' eyes widened slightly in surprise as the freshmen's coordinated counter-attack completely neutralized their opening barrage.
"Wow..." Mason hummed, raising an eyebrow. "Looks like the freshmen have finally found their footing."
Up in the spectator deck, Ritvik was watching the unfolding engagement with narrowed eyes.
'Hmm... the way those repeaters are moving,' Ritvik analyzed mentally. 'There's only one way to break their synchronized rhythm and win but—the real question is... whether any of them have figured it out or not.'
Down in the simulation battle zone, Rowan, Sarina, and Damon stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Rowan was panting lightly, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead, but he kept his breathing strictly controlled.
"Hey, Rowan," Sarina called out from behind.
Rowan glanced back over his shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"I think I just figured out a plan to win this," she said quietly.
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CHAPTER ENDS