The battle was about to start.
There were many people present here on the training field. It was built like an arena, with stands for people to sit in and balconies to watch from.
It was much closer to a small stadium, actually.
And it was filled with people.
Everyone was here to witness the first title match of the first-years.
In fact, it was the first title match of this academic year.
An Ace can put their title on the line in a duel, but most of them don’t do that. Why would they? Unless they had something to gain from the fight.
So, title matches were rare outside of a few examinations and events where it was mandatory for an Ace to defend their position against a worthy challenger.
So, needless to say, people were excited.
And a lot of them were excited for another reason.
They wanted to see Samael Kaizer Theosbane fall!
That arrogant bastard.
People hadn’t forgotten his speech during the award ceremony on the day of orientation.
They hadn’t forgotten how he acted like he was better than them all the time.
That lunatic! How did he ever get the position of the Ace?
Sure, he was strong, but he was undeserving of that title!
He once ate a cake from the ground, for god’s sake!
And yet he had the audacity to call them inferior?!
That egotistical fool!
So, yeah, most of the audience present here was wishing for his downfall.
And one among them was Calem Ardent himself, one of the participants in today’s match, Cadet rank twenty.
He was in the commoner faction.
And he was ready to do anything to get his revenge against Samael today.
Calem stood at the left edge of the arena, his fingers curling and uncurling into fists by his sides.
Beneath his gloves, the heat of his own anger pulsed through his skin.
He could still remember that day.
The day of the Evaluation Exam when Samael Theosbane had taken everything from him with an infuriating, smug smirk.
He had trapped him and a few more Cadets in the ground using his innate power, and then he began extorting everyone.
Yes, instead of eliminating them with dignity, he forced them to pay him in exchange for not eliminating them!
That in itself was fine, but he took something else from Calem as well.
He took his sword.
A sword that his father had sacrificed so much to buy.
That blade was supposed to be a chance at his family’s future.
His sister had a chronic illness, but she bravely held back her tears as she smiled at him the day he left for Apex Academy.
“You’ll be strong, right, Cal? You’ll win?” He remembered her saying that, her voice soft, her hands small in his.
And he had promised her.
He had promised to win, to get stronger, to rise high enough in the ranks to earn a sponsorship – one that would let him afford the treatment she needed.
That sword was a part of that dream. His father had taken a loan to buy it, believing in him, trusting that he would wield it to carve out a future for their family.
But Samael Theosbane took it.
He hadn’t even needed it. He took it because he just could.
He took it like it meant nothing.
Like Calem meant nothing.
After that, Calem barely survived the elimination period before being taken out by a blind noble girl that he would later come to realize was the scion of the Zynxx family.
Nevertheless, that day Calum learned a valuable lesson.
If you are strong, you can do anything.
So, that’s what he did.
He trained like a maniac and became strong.
Strong enough so that one day he could take his revenge on the youngest Theosbane.
Strong enough so that he wouldn’t feel insignificant ever again.
He rose through the rankings, challenging one Cadet after another. He challenged everyone who was above him and pushed them down, climbing toward the zenith!
Climbing toward Samael.
And he once got so close to his revenge.
During the Team Test, Calem was assigned to Squad 14. With one of his teammates, he attacked Samael when they encountered him in the forest.
But that golden-haired bastard ran!
He ran!
He dodged their attacks and ran!
Calem gritted his teeth.
It’s fine.
Today, that bastard can’t run.
Today, Calem had the chance for his revenge.
Today, he would make Samael regret ever looking down on him and remind him that not even the mighty Theosbanes could trample on the weak forever.
He would become the Ace and get the Academy’s best healers to treat his sister.
He would give his father enough money to retire peacefully.
He would win.
Calem calmed himself down, barely suppressing his burning wrath as the object of his resentment entered the battlefield.
With two of the Top Ten Cadets, Michael and Alexia by his side, Samael came to stand at the center.
Across the field, the noble faction stood. Their leader, Leon Vaan Asta, looked equally eager to start the fight.
Beside Calem, Reiner Tovak stood like an immovable wall. His arms crossed and face impassive. He was the leader of the commoner faction.
There were more powerful people present here, as well.
People like Gaius Vortan, whose berserk rage made him one of the most feared Cadets in the batch.
Erwin Holt, who was renowned as one of the fiercest marksmen and scouts the Academy had seen in recent years.
Sylen Mordane, who excelled at working within large teams due to her innate ability to link people telepathically.
And many more.
Each of them had their reasons for wanting to defeat Samael. Some sought to claim his title, while others wished to put him in his place.
Regardless, they were all prepared to begin.
So the moment Michael dropped his hand, the arena exploded into chaos!
•••
“Fight!”
As soon as that single word left Michael’s lips, the battlefield erupted with movements.
From either side of the arena, Cadets rushed toward the center.
Toward Samael.
But instead of looking concerned, Samael smiled.
It wasn’t a smile of arrogance or mockery.
It was a simple, pure expression of joy.
Like an artist seeing a blank canvas.
Like a musician hearing the first note of a melody.
…Like a beast baring its fangs before a hunt.
Finally, he moved as the attacks started coming crashing down on him.
The first one to reach Samael was a broad-shoulder guy from the noble faction named Doron Stormwatch.
Doron’s batch rank was sixteen, and he also had a personal vendetta against the youngest son of the Theosbanes.
During the Evaluation Exam, Samael had trapped Doron and his lackeys in a wall like some grotesque art pieces and made them entertain him!
Whilst in the middle of an important exam, no less!
Doron still remembered the humiliation he felt.
On that day, he swore on his family’s name and honor to humiliate that Theosbane wretch the very same way when he did!
And today, he had his chance.
Doron’s Origin Card was already materialized over his shoulder — «Windreaper». It granted him the innate power to completely erase the air resistance, boosting both his speed and attack potency to an unimaginable degree.
Using that power, Doron closed the distance in a heartbeat, his figure blurring through the air like a bullet.
In his hands was a giant mace that he raised high and swung down in a brutal arc, intending to crush Samael right then and there… quite literally.
—Boom!
The sheer force of the swing sent a shockwave rippling through the battlefield. Dust exploded into the air, and a crater formed where the mace struck on the concrete ground.
…But to his shock, Samael wasn’t there.
Before he could react, a silhouette emerged from the cloud of swirling dust and weaved past Doron to stand beside him like a ghost.
“Too slow,” Samael whispered in his ear.
Doron barely had time to register the voice before he felt something — a sharp tap against the back of his knee.
His leg buckled.
Samael had struck his joint with pinpoint precision and forced the Stormwatch scion to stumble.
And before Doron could recover—
—BAM!
A vicious punch connected squarely to his face, sending him flying across the arena like a ragdoll.
The incoming Cadets either jumped or changed directions to avoid crashing into Doron as he hit the ground hard and rolled a few times like a bowling ball.
The entire exchange lasted less than three seconds.
But Samael didn’t stop.
He didn’t even slow down.
In the next moment, he pivoted and smoothly twisted his body out of the way of an incoming sword thrust.
It was Calem himself who had joined the fray with his new sword in hand.
His own Origin Card was hovering over his head — «Emberbrand». It gave him the boon that any wounds inflicted by his weapon would burn endlessly until fully healed.
Last time, before he could even swing his sword, that bastard had contorted the ground beneath Calem to throw him off balance.
But this time…
This time, Calem was ready.
He had studied Samael.
He had stalked him like prey.
He knew that while Samael’s ability was formidable, it had limits.
For one, he could only transmute objects by touching them directly with his hands.
That in itself was a clear weakness, but depending on the complexity and scale of the transmutation, it could also take him anywhere from an instance to several seconds to complete.
Direct physical contact for at least a second — that was the price of his overwhelming power.
And in a fast-paced battle, a second might as well be an eternity.
That meant Samael was strong, but he was far from invincible. Against multiple opponents in a head-on confrontation alone, he wasn’t at an advantage.
Thus, today, Calem wouldn’t give him the chance to use his ability — not on the terrain, not on anything at all.
Taking a step back, he whipped his sword in a sweeping horizontal slash while shouting, “I’ll have my revenge today, you cocky bastard!”