The word of the courtyard fight spread like wildfire in campus.

The third-years had disappeared off the lower campus before sundown and the Class C students walked with their heads tilted a little higher.

I had won the battle—on paper.

I would have only made a bigger target out of my back, in the real sense.

The following evening, on my desk, there was a folded note.

No name of the sender, a wax seal: the crimson insignia of Magnus Daven.

{Old Observatory Tower. Midnight}

It wasn't a request.

The observatory towered above the academy like a mute relic. Its domed roof had been broken and time-streaked. Moonlight was pouring in through the great window, and silvering the dust.

Magnus was in front of the glass, his hands behind his back. He didn't turn when I entered.

He said finally, with a smooth, almost pleasant voice, Michael Wilson. "I must admit—I'm impressed. You were as accurate with Baron as you could be.

I was only doing my job, I said, and remained at the door.

He chuckled softly. "Your job? Or Emily Lionheart's agenda? She's using you well, you know that right "

"A hero to inspire the Commoner—very poetic."

This has got nothing to do with Emily.

"Doesn't it?" He turned, eyes sharp and cold.

"We both want change as we witness the rot behind the golden walls of this academy. The difference is, I would burn it all down."

"You, on the other hand, want to polish the rust."

He stepped closer and said.

"You align with the Lionheart heir yet you claim to fight corruption."

"How contradictory ."

My hand was reaching the Darken sword under my jacket.

Magnus's smile deepened. "Relax. I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to offer you a deal."

I said nothing.

"You have enemies, you have made", he went on. "Powerful ones. They will cheat, plot against you and they will do anything to make you lose in the midterms."

He paused then make look of himself like gentleman and said " But I can protect you."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

"Simple." He spread his hands. You will have opponents of my choosing during the tournament..... Easier ones....You will get to the semi-finals with ease."

"In exchange—you will leave my faction alone.No disciplinary reports, no investigations and don't charge against them for a semester "

A devil's bargain.

Power now, corruption later.

A shortcut I despised.

I met his gaze. "No deal."

The smile on Magnus did not subside, but his eyes hardened. "You're idealistic. That will kill you one day."

"I'll take my chances."

He looked me over a little, and then returned to the window. "So be it. You have taken the more difficult way, Michael Wilson. How far shall you walk it,--alone?"

I will not be alone, I said to myself and I thought of Leon, Maria, Alex and the others.

Magnus gave a faint laugh. "We'll see."

As I came out of the tower the night was sharp and cold.

The lights of the academy were like the stars on the smooth water below.

Tonight Magnus Daven and I had crossed a line.

The midterm tests would not be a competition any more.

It had become a war now between Magnus and Me.

______________

The atmosphere inside the VR Hall was thick enough to taste.

It was a cocktail of nervous sweat, the sharp tang of ozone from the humming pods, and the almost palpable weight of a thousand pairs of eyes.

First-years stood in neat, anxious rows, their freshly pressed uniforms already feeling stiff and suffocating.

Above, in the tiered viewing galleries, upperclassmen lounged with the casual cruelty of predators watching a new generation of prey.

And on the main holographic viewing screen, which dominated the hall like a god's eye, sat the instructors.

"The system is assigning the opponents now," Professor Evelyn Whitehound noted, her voice a calm murmur amidst the tension.

Her hair was tied back, and her sharp eyes dissected the data scrolling across her personal tablet.

"Rank, combat data, affinity potential… it's all being factored in so one gets an easy fight."

Beside her, Alastor Greythorn let out a low chuckle, his arms crossed over his massive chest.

"Good....Good.....Easy fights create weak hunters. Let's see if any of these brats have learned a damn thing."

His gaze, even from the screen, felt like it could pierce steel.

He wasn't looking at the data but watching the students themselves—their posture, their breathing, the flicker of fear or fire in their eyes.

One by one, names were called, and students filed into the obsidian-black VR pods that lined the hall.

The doors sealed with a soft, pneumatic hiss, and the runes on their surfaces began to glow, signifying the connection was live.

I found my assigned pod, the number '4' glowing faintly on its side.

As I stepped in, I caught a glimpse of my friends. Maria gave me a small, sharp nod, her expression a mask of icy composure, but her eyes held a flicker of warmth.

Aiden shot me a wild grin and a thumbs-up, lightning already crackling faintly between his fingers in anticipation.

Leon stood apart, his back straight as a spear. He caught my eye, and for a moment, the rivalry between us was a palpable force.

He didn't smile. He simply inclined his head, a silent acknowledgment as want to say don't disappoint me.

The pod door sealed shut. Darkness enveloped me, and the world dissolved.

The virtual world materialized not with a gentle fade, but with a jarring lurch.

---------------

I was standing in a vast, circular arena of cracked, obsidian-like stone.

A simulated sky of burning crimson and bruised purple churned overhead, casting the world in a hellish twilight.

The air was hot, smelling of sulfur and old blood.

A notification blazed into existence before me, its letters crafted from fire.

[Opponent Selected: Crimson-Eyed Minotaur]

[Rank: D+]

My lips curled into a thin, humorless smile.

' D+ rank beast. A pure power and endurance type. The system isn't pulling any punches. It wants to see if my rank is just a number.'

Across the arena, particles of light began to coalesce.

A monstrous form took shape, growing larger, more solid, with each passing second. It was a hulking beast, easily three meters tall, its muscular body covered in coarse, matted black fur.

A massive, double-headed axe, its edges chipped from countless battles, was clutched in its gnarled hands.

And its eyes… they ignited with a crimson glow, burning with a pure, uncomplicated rage that promised only destruction.

"GROOOOARRR!"

The roar it unleashed was a physical force, a shockwave that shook the very foundations of the virtual arena and sent a tremor through the floor.

I drew Draken, the blade's dark steel absorbing the hellish light.

The faint hum of the divine weapon was a comforting presence against the beast's overwhelming aura.

Let's begin.

____________________

Meanwhile, in the viewing galleries, screens flickered to life, displaying the battles of the top-ranked students.

[Arena 02: Leon Lionheart vs. D+ Flame Drake]

Leon found himself on a rocky plateau surrounded by molten lava.

The air shimmered with heat and his opponent is a Flame Drake, was a lithe, serpentine creature covered in obsidian scales, its wings like scorched leather.

It perched on a spire of rock, its intelligent, reptilian eyes tracking him with predatory focus.

'A test of my affinity,'

Leon thought, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The pressure of the Lionheart name weighed on him.

Second place in the previous trial, behind Michael. It was a stain he was determined to erase.

He would not just win; he would win with overwhelming, undeniable power.

The Drake shrieked, a sound like tearing metal, and launched itself into the air. It swooped down, its maw opening to unleash a torrent of liquid fire.

"Hmph." Leon stood his ground. He drew his blade, and his own mana flared to life—not the chaotic red of the Drake's fire, but a brilliant, pure gold.

"Holy Flame Manifestation!"

A wall of golden fire erupted in front of him, meeting the Drake's attack head-on.

The two flames clashed, orange and gold, in a violent explosion of heat and light. The very air seemed to melt.

______________________________

[Arena 03: Aiden Stromfang vs. Pack of 8 C+ Shadow Wolves]

Aiden landed in a simulated dark forest, the canopy so thick that only slivers of moonlight pierced the gloom.

He grinned, cracking his knuckles. "A pack hunt? Now this is more like my style!"

From the shadows, glowing red eyes emerged. One pair, then two, then eight.

Shadow Wolves, sleek and silent, their forms flickering as they blended with the darkness. They circled him, a pack of living nightmares.

"Come on then, you mangy mutts!" Aiden roared, drawing his twin short swords.

Lightning exploded from his body, a brilliant blue-white nova that momentarily banished the shadows.

"KRA-KOOM!"

The wolves snarled, their shadow forms recoiling from the light. He didn't give them a chance to regroup.

He charged, a whirlwind of crackling energy and flashing steel, his laughter echoing through the haunted woods.

He wasn't a hunter; he was a storm itself.

(To be Continue)

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