Ian activated Mindbloom, his senses expanding beyond the physical. Instantly, the arena shifted in his perception. The ground beneath Oncith wasn't just solid stone, it pulsed with his presence, as if responding to an unspoken command. He sat there, unmoving, but the battlefield already belonged to him.
The stone beneath his feet carried his intent, faint tremors rolling outward in steady pulses. It wasn't just weight or strength; it was a presence that seeped into the very foundation of the arena. Every grain of dust, every fragment of shattered rock, every ripple in the air seemed to move in tandem with him. It was as if the battlefield itself acknowledged him as its master.
Even before the fight had begun, Oncith wasn't just in control, he was control.
The challenger arrived, also an elf, stepping into the arena with steady, confident strides. His presence carried a distinct sharpness, an air of controlled awareness that marked him as a Mystic Knight.
He did a formal gesture of respect. "I apologize for keeping you waiting… Esar Oncith."
Oncith, still seated, opened his eyes, his deep, steady gaze settling on his opponent. "No need," he replied, his voice like rumbling stone. "I was the one who arrived earlier… Esar Nindrol."
Nindrol gave a slight nod, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's been a while, Esar Oncith."
Oncith exhaled, rising to his feet in a slow, deliberate motion. The moment he stood, the arena seemed to react, stone settling into stillness, the air thickening with a weight that wasn't just physical. "It has," he replied. "I hear you've made great strides since our last bout."
Nindrol chuckled. "I could say the same about you, it seems you've only grown harder to face."
Oncith rolled his shoulders, the ground beneath him subtly shifting, as if adjusting to his presence. "I'm also curious to see how far you've come forward with Dimensional Instinct."
The tension between them wasn't one of hostility, but of understanding. They both knew how dangerous the other was, how much strength it would take to win.
Neither would hold back.
A sudden gust of wind cut through the arena as the referee arrived. He was an instructor, but unlike the combatants, his presence wasn't overwhelming, it was contained, measured. He was a short elf, his uniform pristine, but it was his expression that commanded attention.
His gaze swept over the two fighters, ensuring they were ready. "You both know the rules," he stated, his voice crisp and authoritative. "No lethal force. Victory is determined by surrender, incapacitation, or my discretion." He paused, then added, "This is an official ranking match. Do not disappoint."
A translucent force field shimmered into existence, sealing off the arena's perimeter. The energy pulsed faintly, isolating the two combatants and the referee from the outside world.
Ian watched with sharp focus, his pulse quickening. This was his first time witnessing a battle between true First Order ascenders. His duel with Axilya hardly counted, she had been holding back, barely treating it as anything more than practice. But now, there would be no such restraint. This match would be a real measure of power, a firsthand glimpse into the heights of mastery.
The referee, standing between the two fighters, let the weight of the moment settle before raising his hand. His voice rang clear, cutting through the charged atmosphere.
"Begin."
The moment the referee's voice faded, Nindrol moved. No wasted motion, no hesitation, his body responded before conscious thought, adjusting, reacting, optimizing in real-time. His every step was precise, his breath steady, his entire being functioning as a single, perfectly tuned system.
Oncith remained still, unmoving. But as Nindrol crossed half the distance between them, the giant finally moved.
It was like the ground itself shifted beneath him.
The sheer weight of his presence sent a ripple through the air, dust lifting from the cracked arena floor. His movements were slow, deliberate, not out of sluggishness, but out of absolute control. There was no rush, no urgency.
Then Nindrol struck.
His fist blurred, aimed directly at Oncith's center of mass. A probing strik, one meant to test defenses, to gauge reactions. But the moment it connected, an unnatural force repelled it. Oncith hadn't blocked, hadn't dodged, he had absorbed the impact, his muscles adjusting in real-time, dispersing the force through his massive frame.
Nindrol followed up instantly. He twisted, shifting his stance, launching a spinning kick toward Oncith's ribs. This time Oncith stepped forward. Not away. Forward. A simple step, but it placed him just outside the strike zone, his presence looming larger like a giant.
Nindrol didn't stop.
He adjusted, flowing seamlessly into the next attack, a rapid flurry of strikes, each aimed with surgical precision at joints, pressure points, anywhere that might destabilize the massive opponent. His hands became a blur, his body weaving between angles, attacking from seemingly impossible positions.
And then, he landed a hit.
A direct strike to Oncith's side. The impact cracked like a whip, the force enough to stagger most warriors.
Oncith barely shifted.
It was like striking solid rock. The muscles beneath his skin compressed, absorbing the shock without so much as a flinch. He didn't counter immediately, he let Nindrol continue, watching, gauging. Another strike landed, then another, each blow precise, powerful. But the effect was minimal.
Then, Oncith moved.
A single arm swung forward, effortless, yet immense. The motion displaced air, sending a shockwave outward, forcing Nindrol to disengage.
He landed a few meters away, breathing steadily. He had struck cleanly, yet the impact had done little.
Oncith rolled his shoulders. "Not bad."
Nindrol exhaled, adjusting his stance. "I can't compare to you in raw power."
His fingers tightened. Then, with a flicker of energy, his weapon appeared.
A single-bladed axe, small in form but crackling with energy along the edges. The weight balanced perfectly in his grip.
The first exchange had tested their physicality.
Now, it was time for weapons.
He lunged, his movements sharp and precise. His axe carved through the air in an arc too fast for most eyes to follow. Oncith twisted his body, avoiding a direct hit, but a rash appeared along his side.
Oncith's eyes narrowed. He didn't let it distract him. Instead, he stomped the ground, sending a ripple through the arena. The stone beneath Nindrol's feet cracked and shifted, trying to throw him off balance, but he adjusted instantly, pivoting mid-step. His axe spun in his hands, reversing into a low strike aimed at Oncith's leg.
This time, the ground rose to intercept the attack. A thick slab of rock shot up, blocking the blade with a deafening clang. But Nindrol had expected it. Instead of pulling back, he shifted his weight and let the force of the rebound carry him into a spinning kick that connected squarely with Oncith's shoulder.
Oncith staggered, but only for a breath. His massive hand shot forward, grabbing Nindrol's arm before he could retreat. The grip tightened like a vice.
"Got you."
With a single motion, Oncith swung him into the air and slammed him into the ground. Dust and debris exploded outward. But before Oncith could follow up, Nindrol twisted his body, using the momentum to roll out of the impact zone. He came up on one knee, his axe already sweeping low.
The blade caught Oncith just below the ribs. Not deep, but enough to leave a shallow cut.
Oncith exhaled sharply, but there was no anger, just a slow, assessing nod. "Good."
Then, the ground collapsed beneath Nindrol's feet. A sudden sinkhole, small but perfectly placed, threw his stance off just long enough for Oncith to retaliate. His fist shot forward, crashing into Nindrol's chest and sending him skidding backward.
Both paused, breathing heavily. A faint mark of blood on Oncith's side. Nindrol's ribs ached slightly, but neither showed any signs of backing down.
Oncith cracked his knuckles. "Why don't we get serious now?"
Nindrol exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Happy to oblige."
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. Nindrol's presence sharpened, his entire being aligning with something deeper, his perception of the fight evolving beyond mere sight and reaction. To the Mystic Knight, attacks weren't simply motions; they were probabilities, waves of potential outcomes folding in on themselves. This was Dimensional Instinct. His body adjusted instinctively, reading Oncith's every twitch before his attacks even fully formed.
A sidestep before a strike fully formed. A parry before the counterattack even began. Every motion, every response, perfectly calculated before it happened.
And it was working.
Oncith, for the first time, was on the defensive. His massive arms absorbed the strikes, but he was being pushed back. His bloodline-granted durability let him withstand the blows, but Nindrol was relentless, his axe carving thin marks across Oncith's body, his positioning forcing Oncith into disadvantageous angles.
The watching crowd murmured in astonishment.
Nindrol seem to be winning. Will this be another change in ranking!!
A final strike came, clean, unavoidable, the perfect finishing blow....
And then, everything changed.
A deep, resonating tremor rippled through the battlefield. Not from an attack. From Oncith.
Nindrol's instincts screamed at him to move. But where? Every possibility collapsed at once.
The ground beneath him didn't just shift, it collapsed, pulled inward by an invisible force. The entire battlefield reacted to Oncith's presence, stone and earth surging like a living force. Pillars of rock erupted behind him, cutting off his escape.
And Oncith was already moving.
There was no hesitation. No wasted motion.
He was just there.
A fist, reinforced by an unimaginable mass, crashed into Nindrol's chest.
A soundless impact.
Then a detonation.... BOOM!
Nindrol's body blurred as he was sent hurtling across the battlefield, smashing through multiple stone formations before skidding to a stop. Dust exploded outward in waves.
Silence.
The dust settled, the echoes of impact still lingering in the air.
From within the debris.... movement.
Nindrol rose, breathing steady, but the advantage was gone. The moment of near-victory had slipped through his grasp, turned against him in an instant.
He met Oncith's gaze, his expression calm, unreadable. Then, after a brief moment, he gave a small nod.
Oncith returned it.
The fight was over.
The tension in the arena faded, the crowd murmuring as the outcome sank in.
Nindrol exhaled. "I am still lacking... Esar Oncith."
Oncith let out a deep laugh, rolling his shoulders. "No, no.. Esar Nindrol, you were more than just good. Few can push me like that."
The referee stepped forward, his presence a quiet contrast to the battlefield's destruction. With a simple motion, he raised his hand.
"Oncith, victory."
The energy field surrounding the arena flickered and faded, the barrier releasing. The fight was done.
Ian let out a slow breath, his fingers still gripping the edge of his seat. The First Order was far more powerful than he had expected. If this was the level of a First Order, then what about the Second Order? Or even the Third... like High Scholar Durlan?
At this moment, Ian saw no possibility of himself winning against either Oncith or Nindrol. And against someone like Durlan? It wasn't even a question.
He had to improve. Fast.
He had to reach First Order.
Myrra glanced at him as they stood to leave. "You're thinking too much again."
Ian exhaled. "I just realized how far I still have to go."
Haemir folded his arms. "That's a good thing. Always have something to move forward to."
Sylwen smirked. "Besides, it's not like we are lacking. We just need time."
Myrra nodded slightly. "And the right opportunities."
As they walked out of the arena, the weight of the match still lingered in Ian's mind.
He didn't just want to reach First Order.