The announcement rang across the training hall like a drumbeat, calling every student to attention. Conversations halted mid-sentence as the room buzzed with anticipation. One by one, students hurried to gather in their designated areas. By the time Eno and Lily arrived, the massive space was packed with eager faces and tense energy. The air itself seemed alive, crackling with excitement and anxiety.
As Eno and Lily stepped into the room, their eyes were immediately drawn to two figures standing near the center. The two number-one students from the rival academies, Ryder Ashford and Robin Liang, were impossible to miss.
Ryder was everything one might expect from an arrogant, self-assured prodigy. His slicked-back crimson hair gleamed under the lights, as if every strand had been meticulously placed to project an air of superiority. His piercing eyes, perpetually narrowed, scanned the room with a look that suggested he was already weighing his opponents and finding them wanting. A smirk curled on his lips—a look of casual disdain that only added to his air of confidence.
But it wasn't just his demeanor that set him apart. Eno's gaze sharpened as he studied Ryder's posture. Beneath the haughty attitude was a body honed for combat. His broad shoulders and balanced stance exuded the discipline of a seasoned fighter. Ryder might have looked like an entitled noble, but his aura was anything but fragile.
"Definitely going to be a problem," Eno muttered under his breath.
Having sized up Ryder, their attention shifted toward Robin. If Ryder was the embodiment of calculated arrogance, Robin was the complete opposite. His shoulder length silver hair fell loosely over his face, unkempt and unaffected by the same care Ryder had put into his appearance. His half-lidded Golden eyes radiated disinterest, as though he'd much rather be anywhere else. There was a certain languid grace to the way he stood, one shoulder slouched as he leaned against the wall. He exuded laziness, but even so, there was something undeniably powerful about him—an effortless, quiet strength that seemed to linger just beneath the surface.
As Eno observed Robin, something else caught his attention, and he did a double take. He had heard Robin described before, but standing there in person, the man's appearance was disarmingly feminine. His features were soft and strikingly beautiful, more delicate than any other man Eno had encountered. His smooth complexion and perfectly sculpted face bordered on unreal, but it didn't stop there. Robin's figure, though lean, included a round, perfectly shaped butt that made Eno's gaze linger for just a moment too long.
It wasn't until a wave of sharp, suffocating intent washed over him that Eno's thoughts snapped back to reality. He froze, feeling a chill crawl up his spine. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head, only to find Lily glaring at him. Her black eyes burned with cold fire, and the sheer weight of her killing intent pinned him in place like a predator cornering its prey.
"I think that's enough analyzing, don't you think?" Lily's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and commanding.
Eno gulped, his confidence shrinking under her dominant tone. "Y-yes, ma'am," he stammered, straightening immediately. The glare lingered for another beat before Lily flicked her gaze back toward Robin.
Without hesitation, Lily started walking toward Robin, her confident stride filled with purpose. There was an unmistakable glint in her eye, one that Eno recognized as pure determination. She wasn't going to let Robin slip away without understanding what kind of rival he truly was.
But before she could close the distance, the announcer's voice boomed across the training hall, halting her in her tracks.
"Alright, students! Settle down!" The announcer's commanding tone silenced the room. "I'm going to explain very quickly how these matches will proceed, so listen up."
A hush fell over the crowd as every student's attention snapped to the stage.
"Given the sheer number of participants in this training session, the format will be straightforward," the announcer continued. "Each match will last exactly one minute. It doesn't matter if it ends early or drags out—after one minute, the match will stop. This format allows us to get through all 150 students efficiently."
A murmur spread through the crowd, some students whispering nervously while others grinned with excitement. The stakes were clear—one minute to prove yourself, one minute to display your strength. For some, it was an eternity; for others, it would pass in the blink of an eye.
Eno exchanged a glance with Lily. The tension in the room had shifted, sharpening like the edge of a blade. This wasn't just about friendly matches anymore. It just became an opportunity, Within that one minute It will be a clear moment to gauge their competitors without showing too much of their capabilities
As the announcer began calling out names, the first pair of students stepped into the ring, and the training session officially began.
The fights that followed the announcement were underwhelming for the most part. Each match lasted only a minute, leaving little room for creativity or significant displays of power. Most of the students were clearly holding back, reluctant to reveal their true capabilities before the games. While the combat itself lacked flair, the real value of these matches was in observing the abilities on display. It was a rare chance to catalogue strengths, weaknesses, and techniques—a preview of what might come during the tournament.
The crowd, a mix of students from all three academies, sat in quiet anticipation, murmurs of interest rippling through the room whenever a unique ability surfaced. Yet, even the more intriguing matches couldn't quite hold their attention for long. That was, until the referee called out the words everyone had been waiting to hear.
"Match 43: Eno Spencer vs. Ryder Ashford."
The room erupted into a wave of whispers and excited chatter. The prospect of seeing two of the top-ranked students go head-to-head electrified the hall. Eno's name carried weight, not just as the number one student of Erevos Academy but also as a fighter whose lightning abilities had earned him respect and recognition. Ryder Ashford, on the other hand, was the pride of Dragon Fang Academy, his reputation bolstered by the fearsome power of his family name and his own skill.
Eno stepped into the circular combat ring, his gauntlets reflecting the overhead lights. His calm, focused expression betrayed none of the excitement stirring within him. As he glanced across the ring, his piercing blue eyes locked onto Ryder, who was already waiting.
Ryder exuded arrogance, his smirk practically daring Eno to make the first move. His red hair, slicked back with precision, gave him a polished yet cocky air. He carried himself with the confidence of someone used to being the center of attention, yet his stance spoke volumes. Despite the smug attitude, his posture was disciplined, radiating the poise of a seasoned warrior.
"So, you're the number one student of Erevos Academy?" Ryder's voice carried across the ring, sharp and mocking. "I expected more."
Eno sighed, unimpressed. "Well, I didn't expect you to be this flashy," he replied, his tone calm but cutting. He took his stance, settling into a defensive posture.
Ryder's smirk widened, clearly enjoying himself. He raised his hands, adopting a hand-to-hand combat stance that was both calculated and inviting. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, their eyes glued to the ring.
The referee stepped between them, raising his arm. "Combatants, ready?" he called out. Both fighters nodded, their gazes never leaving each other. "Three, two, one—fight!"
The moment the words left the referee's mouth, both fighters exploded into action.
Ryder was the first to move, lunging forward with a lightning-fast punch aimed at Eno's face. Eno reacted instinctively, deflecting the punch with a sharp slap of his hand and countering with a quick jab toward Ryder's torso. Ryder twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the blow, and retaliated with a low kick aimed at Eno's shin. Eno leaped back, creating just enough space to regain his footing.
The two fighters closed the distance again, exchanging a flurry of punches and kicks in rapid succession. Ryder's movements were precise and relentless, but Eno matched him blow for blow, his reflexes keeping him just a step ahead. The strikes came so quickly that the crowd could barely keep up, their cheers growing louder with every exchange.
Eno, however, was already forming a strategy. Throughout the fight, he had stuck to punches, leading Ryder to assume that his fighting style was entirely focused on upper-body strikes. It was a deliberate ruse, one that he intended to exploit.
As Ryder pressed forward, throwing a particularly aggressive combination, Eno spotted his opening. With a swift pivot, he launched a low kick aimed directly at Ryder's knee. The strike connected with a satisfying thud, forcing Ryder to stagger and drop slightly. Before Ryder could recover, Eno followed up with a spinning roundhouse kick that caught Ryder across the face, sending him stumbling back several steps.
The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound echoing throughout the hall. Eno pressed his advantage, dashing forward to capitalize on Ryder's momentary imbalance. But just as he closed the distance, he immediately created an explosion in his feet to dash back as soon as he done that a silhouette passed by causing him to bleed a little
Ryder stood tall once more, his smirk now replaced with a look of icy determination. And right next to him is a red flying sword , a crimson blade shimmered into existence, its edges pulsating with a fiery glow.
"I might've underestimated you," Ryder admitted, his tone still dripping with arrogance. "But that's not going to happen again."
Eno's gaze narrowed, taking in the weapon. The blade wasn't ordinary—it radiated power, a manifestation of Ryder's ability. The sheer energy emanating from it was enough to make Eno's skin tingle. He adjusted his stance, activating his lightning cloak with a crackling surge of energy.
The fight resumed with renewed intensity. Ryder lunged forward, his blade cutting through the air in a series of precise, deadly arcs. Eno darted and weaved, his enhanced speed allowing him to narrowly evade the strikes. But the addition of the blade changed the dynamic entirely. Ryder now had the upper hand, his attacks forcing Eno onto the defensive.
Sparks flew as Ryder's blade clashed against Eno's gauntlets. The crowd watched in awe as the two fighters moved with almost inhuman speed, their every motion a blur. Yet despite Eno's efforts, Ryder's relentless assault began to take its toll. Small cuts and bruises appeared on Eno's arms and legs, evidence of the crimson blade's reach.
By the time the referee called the end of the match, both fighters were breathing heavily, their bodies marked by the intensity of the battle. Eno's lightning cloak fizzled out, and Ryder let his blade dissolve into red energy, his smirk returning.
"I guess you're not that special," Ryder said smugly, brushing a speck of dust off his shoulder. "All I had to do was use my ability to flip the tables."
Eno said nothing, his expression unreadable as he turned and walked back toward Lily, who was waiting for him at the edge of the ring.
"What a douchebag," Lily muttered as Eno approached. Her tone was sharp, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
Eno sighed, shaking his head. "We already knew this, didn't we?"
Lily tilted her head, studying him carefully. "Did you at least get anything useful from the match?"
Eno's lips curved into a small, confident smile. "I got all I needed."
Lily nodded, satisfied with his answer, and the two of them turned their attention back to the ring as the matches continued. The day was far from over, and the tournament was only just beginning.