The air in the Academy's subjugation hall crackled with tension.

Rows of lanterns lit up the massive stone chamber, their orange glow bouncing across reinforced steel walls. At the center lay the wide, circular arena where the coming battle would unfold—a killing ground designed to test the mettle of the Academy's most promising students.

High above, instructors and the scholars sat behind protective barriers, ready to observe and evaluate.

Among them, Freya Littlefinger leaned forward, hands folded neatly beneath her chin, eyes narrowing in interest. Mordi Reaves twirled a quill idly, jotting down notes in his worn leather book.

Frost Winister merely folded his arms, expression amused as always.

The Headmaster, Dagon Heartfield, sat at the highest pedestal, having a grim expression on his aged face while he watched what was about to unfold.

The students gathered below were buzzing like a hive on the verge of frenzy.

Today was their first real Dragon Subjugation Session, and everyone knew what that meant.

Draco stood silently at the edge of his team, his sharp eyes scanning the arena floor.

His group of ten students clustered around him, most faces pale with nerves but still resolute. Jonathan was there, rolling his shoulders as though preparing for a fistfight rather than a dragon hunt. Lenard adjusted the straps of his gauntlets with meticulous care.

The others shifted uneasily, waiting for Draco to speak.

Across the chamber stood Jet Ashborne and his faction. They were every bit as confident as their leader, clustered like a pack of wolves.

Jet himself met Draco's eyes across the hall.

His expression was calm, but the way his fists clenched at his sides betrayed his anticipation.

Lizbeth leaned against the wall beside him, lips curled in a smirk of disdain.

The tension between the two factions was almost thicker than the Essence that saturated the innermost regions of a Dragon's heart.

Finally, the voice of an instructor echoed across the hall.

"Today's dragon has been selected. A Land Dragon, classed as a Rank 2 Earth Fragment Drake. Resistant to flame, its body armored in hardened fragments of stone. Size—ten meters. Attributes—durability and brute strength. Speed—average. As for its Breath… hehe, that's for you to figure out."

Murmurs erupted among the students.

"Resistant to flame?"

"But the only D-H we have is fire-based, isn't it? How can we use the Amber Ignis Breath against something like this?"

"This is impossible…"

"Silence," the instructor snapped. "You have ten minutes to form your strategies. Use them wisely."

The massive clock on the wall began to tick down.

Ten minutes.

The room immediately fractured into two zones of frantic planning.

Jet pulled his team into a tight huddle, speaking quickly, his voice low but urgent. Draco watched briefly, then turned back to his own group.

"All of you, eyes on me," Draco said, his tone cutting through the noise like a blade.

One by one, the voices around him fell quiet until only his team listened.

"You've heard the description. Land Dragon, body coated in Earth Fragments. Fire resistance. That means the Academy wants us to think this is hopeless. They're testing not our power, but our adaptability. Understood?"

Heads nodded hesitantly.

Draco crouched low, sketching quickly on the dusty floor with a piece of chalk he pulled from his pocket. His movements were sharp, confident, almost military.

"First: this dragon isn't fast. It's a tank. That means we need to exploit its lack of agility. I'll draw its attention. I can last long enough for the rest of you to act without being turned into paste by its movements."

"And what exactly are we supposed to do? Our flames won't burn through its hide." Jonathan frowned as he retorted.

"Direct burns won't." Draco smirked. "But what happens when fire meets stone over and over again?"

Lenard's eyes widened as he caught on. "The fragments weaken. Cracks form. Repeated strikes in the same place will break it apart."

"Exactly," Draco said. He pointed to the dragon's outline in his chalk sketch. "We'll target its legs. If it can't move, it can't fight. Forget its head or chest. Focus on immobilization."

One of the younger students—Marcos—shifted nervously. "But won't it crush us before we can do that? One stomp and—"

Draco's glare silenced him.

"That's why I'll keep its eyes on me. You'll stay in pairs. One to distract, the other to strike. Don't scatter. Don't panic. Follow my signal."

His hand swept across the sketch, outlining a circle around the dragon's limbs.

"We concentrate fire here and here. Once the fragments crack, Jonathan and Lenard move in to strike the weakened points directly. Don't waste your Breaths anywhere else."

The group exchanged uncertain glances, but Draco's calm confidence began to anchor them.

"Listen," Draco said, his voice dropping low, intense. "You've all trained under me this past week. You know what I expect. You know what you're capable of. This isn't just about Student Points or pride. It's about survival. If you freeze, you die. If you hesitate, you die. Trust me, trust each other, and we'll win. Understood?"

A chorus of voices answered him, stronger this time.

"Understood!"

Draco straightened, crossing his arms. His eyes flicked once more to Jet's group. They were still huddled, Lizbeth gesturing wildly while Jet argued back. Their voices carried faintly—disorganized, uncertain.

A small smile tugged at Draco's lips.

'So that's your plan, Jet? Let your team argue while I sharpen mine into a blade? You've already lost.'

The clock ticked down.

Five minutes.

His teammates rehearsed the formation, murmuring positions to each other, adjusting grips on their weapons. Sparks of Ignis Breath lit up their hands as they tested the flow, small tongues of flame dancing over skin that shimmered faintly with protective runes. The air grew hotter, tinged with the sharp smell of ozone.

Three minutes.

Jonathan punched his fists together, fiery gauntlets sparking. "When do I get to hit it?"

"When I say." Draco gave him a flat look.

One minute.

The two groups were separated by a translucent barrier, dividing their respective trials so neither could interfere with the other.

Then—

The arena gates rumbled.

Massive gears ground against one another as the enchanted doors creaked open. The sound shook the chamber, sending vibrations up through the students' boots.

The instructors leaned forward and the students fell into tense silence.

"Haaa… it's time…" Draco exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, flames licking faintly around his fists.

The clock struck zero.

"ROOOOAAAARRRR!!!" A roar split the air.

The ground trembled as the dragon charged forward, its body a mountain of muscle and stone shards, its eyes burning with molten fury. Earth fragments clattered against one another like grinding armor plates, sparks flying with each movement.

The beast's massive claws gouged furrows into the stone floor as it burst into the arena, tail dancing behind its armored back.

Its jaws gaped, a terrifyingly hungry growl rolling like thunder.

The students did not dare to feeze for even a heartbeat as they stared at up at ten meters of death incarnate.

—A spawn of evil!

'Since we are using my method, I won't have to attack the Dragon, so I don't need to worry about my Class Restrictions acting up.' Draco's grin broadened with delight. 'We can go all out!'

His voice instantly shattered the silence.

"Positions—NOW!"

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