Team One stood opposite Team Three.Team Two faced Team Four.The air in the coliseum trembled with the weight of expectation.

"BEGIN!"

The announcer's amplified voice thundered, and the entire arena erupted into chaos.

The heavy knight of Team One was the first to move—charging forward with ground-splitting force, his greatsword dragging across the platform and screeching like metal claws on stone. Sparks flared beneath the blade as he ran. Despite his weight and bulky armor, his speed defied logic. Each stride cracked the black surface beneath him.

He roared, swinging his sword in a massive arc aimed at the entire front line of Team Three. The impact came with a clang that echoed through the stands, forcing two of Team Three's swordsmen to block together just to absorb the strike. Their combined guard trembled under the blow, boots grinding against the ground until both dropped to one knee.

The rest of Team Three reacted instantly. Their remaining members circled wide, blades drawn and mana gathering in their palms as they attempted to flank.

But the archer of Team One was already in motion. He slid a glowing arrow into his mana bow, drew, and let loose a flurry that split into several spectral projectiles midair. The arrows screamed as they rained down toward Team Three's rear.

The two swordsmen of Team Three fell back, but their mage stepped forward, planting his staff firmly into the ground. A ring of blue light rippled outward, freezing the air for a heartbeat. The arrows halted midflight, trembling, then reversed direction in perfect unison.

They tore back through the air toward Team One.

The archer's eyes widened. "What the—"

Before he could finish, the mage of Team One acted. Her red aura flared like a sunrise. With a burst of speed that blurred her figure, she dashed ahead of her team and slammed her staff against the platform.

A pillar of fire erupted from the ground, roaring upward. The reversed arrows hit the flames and vanished instantly, disintegrating into sparks that showered down across the arena.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side, the battle between Team Two and Team Four began.

Through the chaos of clashing steel and shouting voices, the two archers of Team Two launched volley after volley at their opponents. The arrows glowed faintly blue, each one enhanced by runic precision to curve midflight.

Team Four's lone swordsman moved first. His movements were serpentine—impossibly quick, weaving through every arrow as if he'd predicted their trajectories. His blade remained sheathed, his body low, sliding between bursts of mana light. The rest of his team—three magicians and one archer—stayed back, oddly motionless.

Avin leaned forward from the stands, elbows on his knees. "That's weird… why's he the only one attacking?"

"They probably have some kind of infiltration plan," Henry replied, eyes tracking the motion.

The lone swordsman reached striking distance, the storm of arrows now flying uselessly past him. He skidded to a stop, hand reaching over his shoulder to pull something cylindrical from his back—sleek, metallic, covered in faintly glowing inscriptions.

He spun it once in his grip and jammed it into the ground.

A loud click echoed. Three thin metal arms shot out from its base, embedding into the platform with a low hum.

"What's that?" Avin asked, glancing sideways at Henry.

Henry's lips curled into a grin. "Transportation device."

"Transportation device?"

"Smart," Henry said, eyes glinting. "Let the dodger plant it where no one can interfere and—"

He didn't finish, because at that exact second, the glow from the device surged bright white.

A crackling wave rippled outward, forming a mana circle large enough to swallow the space between the teams. The runes spun rapidly, and in an instant—whoomph!—the entire formation of Team Four vanished in a burst of wind.

Avin blinked. "They—wait, what?"

When the light cleared, Team Four reappeared—right in front of Team Two, perfectly repositioned. The crowd erupted into gasps and cheers.

Meanwhile, the battle between Team One and Team Three raged on.

The heavy knight was still locked with the two swordsmen, his greatsword raised high. He brought it down again with a vertical swing that split the air like thunder. Both swordsmen rolled opposite ways to dodge, and the sword smashed into the ground, shaking the entire platform.

The impact left a web of cracks and a deep crater where he stood. Dust and bits of concrete flew upward.

The swordsman on the knight's right countered immediately, thrusting his blade into the gap in the armor's side. The attack landed—clang!—but the blade barely scratched the surface. The armor absorbed it without even denting.

The heavy knight turned toward him, ignoring the failed strike. He left his greatsword buried in the ground and charged bare-handed toward the other swordsman who had dodged left.

The man barely had time to raise his weapon before the knight's massive hand engulfed his head.

The crowd winced.

With one arm, the knight lifted him off the ground, his grip tightening. The captured fighter kicked wildly, slashing his sword without control. Then, with a guttural roar, the knight swung and hurled him clean off the edge of the platform.

The swordsman crashed outside the boundary. The announcer's voice flared through the arena:"TEAM THREE—ONE MEMBER ELIMINATED!"

The heavy knight pulled his greatsword free from the ground, resting it casually on his shoulder as he turned toward the other opponent—the one still crawling away, trembling, desperate to retreat.

He loomed over him like a mountain of metal and swung again.

At the same time, the rest of Team One clashed with the remnants of Team Three. Two swordsmen and their mage now faced off against Team One's archer, martial artist, mage, and the lightly armored swordsman.

Since the archer's earlier mass attacks had failed, he held his ground this time, stepping back to support from a distance.

The magicians faced each other next—Team Three's mage chanting low, energy building in the air as floating circles formed around his staff. Each spell fired off one by one—shards of ice, orbs of flame, and bursts of kinetic force—but every single one was met with an immediate counterspell from Team One's mage.

Boom—boom—crackle!Each collision sent shockwaves through the space between them, bursts of heat and mist colliding midair before dissolving into nothing.

The mages stayed back, now acting as long-range artillery while their frontline members took over.

At the front of Team One stood the unarmed martial artist and the lightly armored swordsman. For Team Three, the two remaining swordsmen took their stances.

They each picked their opponent—and charged.

The martial artist closed distance first. His movements were fluid, a blur of reinforced muscle and precise mana flow. His fists glowed faintly gold as he ducked under a blade swing and countered with a sharp uppercut. Thud! The impact rang like breaking stone.

The swordsmen's duel beside them was even fiercer. Every strike and parry sent bursts of sparks scattering through the air. The rhythm of their clash became almost hypnotic—clang—shff!—clang!

Each attack was met, redirected, or dodged with precision. The two seemed evenly matched, until—

Team Three's swordsman suddenly kicked his opponent in the chest.

It wasn't a strong attack, but it was unexpected. The blow made the other stumble, losing footing. He took two hurried steps back, trying to steady himself.

That single moment was all the swordsman needed.

He drew in a sharp breath, sliding his sword back into its sheath. His knees bent, his aura shifting from blue to silver.

He placed one hand on the hilt, eyes closed for a heartbeat.

Then—

DASH!

He vanished, reappearing behind his opponent with a sound like tearing air. His sword was already halfway sheathed again.

Avin's eyes widened. He could barely follow the movement—even with his mana sight partially active.

The other swordsman froze. His blade slipped from his hand, and a faint line of light appeared across his torso before he collapsed.

"Damn," Avin muttered under his breath.

Henry whistled softly. "Fast."

But Team Three's swordsman made the mistake of relaxing—straightening his back, letting out a short breath.

Too soon.

By the time he realized, it was already over.

The martial artist had finished his own fight—his opponent lay unconscious off the edge—and was already closing in. He appeared beside the swordsman in a blur of motion.

A single punch to the face crumpled the man's helmet inward. The shockwave that followed blew dust off the arena floor.

BOOM!

The crowd gasped as the man's body launched backward, flying off the platform and landing outside the boundary.

"TEAM THREE—ELIMINATED!" the announcer declared.

The heavy knight, having finished his own opponent, looked up from the edge of the stage, his chest rising and falling slowly. The cracked floor around him was proof enough of his dominance.

All that remained of Team Three was their mage—standing alone now, staff trembling slightly.

The members of Team One regrouped, forming a line as if by instinct. The air shimmered with heat from the residual mana.

The mage of Team Three raised his staff one final time, defiant despite knowing the outcome. Flames, lightning, and frost all swirled together into a chaotic sphere at its tip.

Team One's mage responded in kind, summoning a shield of runic fire that expanded in front of them.

The explosion that followed shook the arena but left the outcome unchanged.

When the smoke cleared, Team Three's mage was on his knees, his staff shattered beside him.

Avin leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, eyes still following the movement of mana trails that lingered in the air.

He exhaled slowly, a faint smile curving his lips.

"Intriguing," he said quietly. "And entertaining."

Henry chuckled beside him. "You look like you're taking notes."

Avin's crimson eyes gleamed faintly as he watched the next gates begin to open.

"Maybe I am."

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