[Arena 04: Eric William vs. D+ Holy Griffin]

Eric appeared on the peak of a floating, cloud-wreathed island.

The wind whipped at his immaculate uniform, but he stood unmoving, his expression one of cold disdain and high above, a creature circled—a majestic Holy Griffin, its body that of a lion, its head and wings that of an eagle.

Its feathers shimmered with a divine light, and its cry was a beautiful, piercing sound.

'An aerial type opponent. How tedious' Eric thought, his hand resting on the pommel of his blade.

He had no intention of engaging in a prolonged, flashy battle.

His family's art was one of efficiency, of absolute victory with no wasted motion.

The Griffin screeched and dove, its talons glowing with holy power, ready to rip him apart.

Eric didn't move until the last possible second.

Then, his eyes flashed.

"Lightstyle swords Arts: Sky Piercer."

He drew his sword in a single, fluid motion—an upward thrust so fast it was almost invisible.

A needle-thin beam of pure, condensed light shot from the tip of his blade. It wasn't a grand explosion like Leon's fire or a chaotic storm like Aiden's lightning.

It was a single, perfect, lethal point of energy and the beam struck the Griffin directly in the chest.

The majestic creature froze mid-dive, its divine light sputtering out before it dissolved into particles of data, its cry of pain swallowed by the wind.

The entire fight had lasted less than ten seconds. Eric sheathed his sword, a bored expression on his face, as if he had just swatted a fly.

______________________________________

Back in my arena, the Minotaur charged. Its hooves thundered against the stone, each step a miniature earthquake.

The double-headed axe swung in a brutal, horizontal arc, a blur of motion that aimed to cut the world in half.

'Head-on is suicide. Raw strength is its domain.'

I didn't meet the charge. I activated the first form of Siekie Ryoku Arts.

"Swift Step."

My body flickered, an afterimage of light left in my wake as I sidestepped the attack with inches to spare.

The wind from the axe's passage whipped at my clothes and next second the weapon slammed into the stone wall behind me, shattering it and sending a spiderweb of cracks across the arena boundary.

Before the beast could pull its axe free, I was already moving.

My blade, Draken, pulsed with a cold, blue light as I poured my mana into it. The air temperature plummeted.

"Ice Domain," I whispered.

FWOOM!

Frost exploded outward from my position in a perfect circle, a wave of absolute zero that flash-froze the arena floor.

The cracked stone was instantly coated in a sheet of treacherous, glistening ice.

The Minotaur roared in frustration as its heavy hooves slipped, its powerful, grounded stance now its greatest weakness.

Its lumbering movements became a clumsy, sliding dance of rage.

It had entered my world now.

The instructors on the viewing screen leaned forward.

"He's controlling the entire battlefield," one muttered in disbelief.

"Ice to control movement… it's a classic strategy, but the speed of execution is flawless."

Alastor just grinned, a fierce pride in his eyes.

"That's my boy."

The Minotaur, enraged by its lack of footing, abandoned its axe and slammed its fists into the ground.

The ice cracked and shattered under the brute force, but I was already a step ahead.

My ice affinity crackled to life, a vibrant, chaotic blue wrapping around Draken's icy blade. I darted in, a blur of motion across the slick surface.

The Siekie Ryoku Arts were designed for speed, and on the terrain I had created, I was an untouchable phantom.

I didn't waste energy on its thick, armored hide.

My gamer instincts, honed over a lifetime, screamed for me to target the weak points.

My space-infused blade slashed across its knee joint.

The beast roared, not just from the cut, but from the space shock wave that seized its muscles.

Before it could recover, I was on its other side, my blade slicing through the tendons of its elbow.

Each strike was a surgeon's cut—precise, debilitating, and cruel.

The beast howled in pain, its powerful limbs now hindered by both the freezing cold and the spasming of its charged muscles. It was a titan brought to its knees.

Finally, seeing its defenses completely broken, I prepared the final blow. I skidded to a halt a few meters away, planting my feet firmly.

I channeled all my remaining mana into Draken. The blade, already a fusion of ice and lightning began to glow with an intense, blinding silver-blue light.

My aura, my mana, my very will poured into this single strike.

'Quantum Analysis Mind confirms a 99.8% kill probability. This is the moment'

"Heaven Splitter," I breathed, unleashing the third and most devastating form of my sword art.

I vanished.

Not a blur of speed, but an instantaneous displacement.

I reappeared directly above the kneeling Minotaur, my body inverted, my sword descending in a flawless, vertical arc and my blade sliced through the thick bone of its skull as if it were soft clay.

The Minotaur froze and its crimson eyes, once burning with rage, went wide with disbelief.

For a single, eternal moment, it remained there, a statue of defeat. Then, it began to crumble, dissolving into a shower of golden data particles that drifted silently into the churning red sky.

[Victory.]

[Time Elapsed: 3 minutes, 14 seconds.]

I landed softly on the now-empty arena floor, my chest heaving, the after-image of my attack still hanging in the air.

In the VR Hall, a new set of times flashed onto the main screen, updating in real-time.

Eric William: 10 seconds.

Aiden Stromfang: 2 minutes, 45 seconds.

Leon Lionheart: 3 minutes, 05 seconds.

And then, my name appeared.

Michael Wilson: 3 minutes, 14 seconds.

A wave of murmurs rippled through the spectators. I was slower than the others. I hadn't won by speed.

But then, the screen updated again, this time with a detailed score breakdown.

[Michael Wilson - Score Analysis]

[Time: 850/1000 pts]

[Efficiency (Mana/Stamina Usage): 980/1000 pts]

[Damage Taken: 1000/1000 pts (Zero damage)]

[Strategy & Control: 1000/1000 pts (Perfect battlefield manipulation)]

[Bonus - Weak Point Exploitation: +500 pts]

[Bonus - Affinity Fusion: +500 pts]

[Total Score: 4830 pts]

The scores for the other students appeared.

Leon: 4550.

Aiden: 4400.

Even Eric, with his lightning-fast victory, had a lower score: 4600.

His efficiency and strategy scores were abysmal. He had won with a single, massive cannon blast, while I had won with a scalpel.

A stunned silence fell over the hall. I hadn't just won. I had achieved a perfect, strategic victory.

I had demonstrated a level of control and mastery that was simply on another level.

____________________________

In the VR Hall, the huge holographic screen featured an exhibition of brute force.

It circled through the climaxes, the last, explosive scenes of the last four battles: Ten seconds of execution of Eric, lightning storm of Aiden, holy fire of Leon, my cold and calculated destruction of Minotaur.

To the spectators in the gallery it was an exhibition of prodigies--a preview of future S-rank hunters.

The air was filled with wonder and murmurs of a thousand people talking.

But there are a hundred lights that fight to shine in the dark, to every burning star.

Even though the center screen occupied the majority of attention, dozens of smaller holograms were placed on the edges of the hall.

They demonstrated the constant ordeals of the other students-in the backstage where the harsh reality of the Subjugation Trial was being experienced.

There were no ten-second wins, just sweat, blood and struggle to survive.

[Arena 07: Selena Veylan vs. D+ Corrupted Treant].

Selena was floating like a ghost through a simulated, desolated forest.

The air smelled of decay. She was fighting a Corrupted Treant--a hideous mixture of nature and black.

its bark was as hard as iron; its branches were tipped with vicious thorns, and there was a nasty shadowy smell oozing out of its very heart, and making the soil sick.

like a living and dead creature, said Selena; her scythe was drawn out of a curling of shadows.

"How fitting."

The Treant raved like a cracked lumber and struck her with a giant thorny branch--Selena made no withdrawal.

She moved, like a dancer; she performed the Step of the Reaper, and made her body a shadow-wisp, which returned behind the monster.

"Night Veil Slash."

A crescent of condensed shadow flashed through the air and struck the back of the Treant and produced but a shallow groove in its hardened bark.

The monster was fighting against the darkness, which kept it alive.

Whispers were heard by the watching students.

Her black magic is not doing her good. "It's a bad matchup."

Selena stayed calm. She looked calm with her violet eyes shining with the brightness of analysis.

She turned her scythe; the dark blade moved and a bright sacred light blossomed within, and a shinning light enclosed the metal.

The Treant would shrink back, hissing with the touch of the sacred power on its rotten flesh.

You are a perversion of nature, you are, Selena, I said in a voice soft but firm.

And light is the judgment you cannot escape.

She made a second attempt, this time by no longer feeling her way by shadow, but by light.

Her scythe had become a silver flash; every blow was a sharp, disinfecting blow. Light blazed down on the corrupted bark of the Treant and burnt away the darkness of it, exposing the living wood beneath.

And then, with a last classy turn, she went back to shadow, and buried the dark edge in the now-weak center.

The Corrupted Treant gave a last quailing groan, and fell to pieces.

Selena was in the lonely forest, her two affinities going around her in perfect unison. It was not a conquest of strength, but of absolute power.

(To be Continue)

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