The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the system's VR notifications.
All that remained of Rael Thunderfang's team were scattered bodies flickering, signifying their elimination.
Rael, once filled with berserk fury, lay unconscious, his white fur stained crimson. His breathing was heavy, his body flickering as his avatar began fading.
Beside him, Lyria Starfang, the cold and calculating warrior, had fallen as well. Her rapier was shattered, her frost magic failing against the relentless force that was Alistair Vaelthorne.
Alistair stood still, his abyssal tentacles retracting back into his shadow. The battlefield, once filled with relentless combat, had now become a graveyard.
A system message appeared before him.
---
[BATTLE END – SURVIVORS REMAINING: 1]
[Survivor: Alistair Vaelthorne]
---
The holographic text flickered before fading away.
Alistair glanced around. He was the only one left standing.
He let out a small breath.
The first round was over.
Then—
A sudden pulse of energy surged through the battlefield.
A bright light engulfed the arena, and before Alistair could react—
He was somewhere else.
When the light faded, he found himself standing in a vast desert.
The once-ruined battleground had disappeared, replaced by endless dunes of golden sand, scorching winds whipping across the landscape.
A voice echoed in his mind.
---
[ROUND TWO BEGINS]
[MANA AND STAMINA FULLY RESTORED]
---
Alistair blinked.
"So, every match resets our stamina and mana?"
It made sense. The academy wouldn't want students to start fights already exhausted.
But this also meant something else—
Every new battle was a fresh start.
Alistair flexed his fingers, feeling his restored energy flow through him.
"I'll have to check out all the features of this VR system after the exam."
For now, there was only one thing to focus on.
Winning.
One by one, his new teammates appeared around him, their avatars materializing from blue light.
They were stronger than his previous team, but still below average in comparison to elites.Most were ranked E- to E, slightly better than the F+ and E- ranks he had before. Still, none of them were worth remembering.
On the opposite side, the enemy team appeared as well.
Alistair's dark eyes scanned them, calculating.
None were notable. No names he recognized. No one of elite standing. Just another group of weaklings standing in his way.
He sighed.
"They're not worth my effort."
A familiar system notification echoed.
[BATTLE START]
The moment the countdown hit zero, Alistair made his move.
Without hesitation, he activated his Bloodshadow Manifestation Art – Crimson Phantom.
His shadow twisted, tendrils of blood and darkness merging into a second form—his clone.
Unlike last time, there was no strong opponent in this battle.
Alistair smirked slightly.
"Clean them up."
The Crimson Phantom rushed forward, sword in hand, its 40% strength more than enough to dismantle the enemy team.
This battle wouldn't even be interesting.
And as his clone surged into combat, eliminating opponents one by one—
Alistair simply stood back, watching.
This was over before it even began.
****
While on another virtual battlefield.
Theme: The Ruined Temple
The air within the ancient temple was thick with dust and the lingering scent of decay. Towering stone pillars, half-collapsed from centuries of wear, cast long shadows across the cracked marble floors. Faint engravings of forgotten gods lined the walls, their faces worn away by time. The dim light filtering through the broken ceiling barely illuminated the battlefield, giving everything an eerie, almost ethereal glow.
And amidst the ruins—stood a lone girl.
Elaine Vaelthorne.
Blood dripped from a deep gash on her shoulder, staining the pale silver of her academy uniform. Her breathing was ragged, her emerald eyes sharp despite the exhaustion weighing down her limbs. Her twin swords—once shining with lunar mana—were now dim, one missing entirely, severed along with her right hand.
Her remaining blade trembled slightly in her grip.
Not from fear.
But from the sheer agony of fighting against a monster.
A monster in human skin.
Across from her, a lone figure stood.
A boy in the academy uniform.
Tall. Slender yet fit and powerful. His long black hair flowed in the faint breeze, and his piercing purple eyes glowed with something… unnatural.
There was no urgency in his stance. No hesitation. Just thrill of battle.
Like a predator that had already decided its prey's fate.
Elaine tightened her grip on her remaining sword, forcing herself to ignore the pain. The loss of her hand wasn't just a physical wound—it was a crippling disadvantage. She could barely channel her nature magic without both blades to conduct the flow of mana properly.
Still, she refused to fall without a fight.
With a deep breath, she drew on the full extent of her blessings.
A silver glow erupted around her. The lunar energy within her pulsed violently, healing some of her wounds and sharpening her senses. Her body felt lighter, faster—her remaining sword humming with divine power.
She moved.
Faster than sound.
A streak of silver light shot toward her opponent, her blade slashing toward his neck.
A killing strike.
—But she hit nothing.
The boy was gone.
No, not gone—he was simply too fast.
A whisper of movement.
A flicker of purple light.
Pain.
Elaine barely saw the sword that slashed across her abdomen before her body reacted on instinct, stumbling backward. Blood splattered onto the cracked stone floor. Her vision blurred for a split second, but she forced herself to stay conscious.
She gritted her teeth.
Too fast. Too clean. Too precise.
This wasn't a fight.
This was a hunt.
He was toying with her.
She took another step back, gasping for breath. Think. Find an opening.
Her nature magic was useless—he had slashed through all her nature magic wines or other magic somehow, cutting off her ability to manipulate the battlefield.
Her lunar magic gave her a speed advantage, but he was still faster.
Her blessings made her stronger, but his swordplay was flawless.
She had no advantage.
Elaine's fingers trembled around her sword hilt. I… I can't win.
And he knew it.
That was the worst part.
He wasn't even fighting her seriously.
The boy tilted his head slightly, watching her struggle. His purple eyes gleamed with something dark. Amusement? Disappointment? It was impossible to tell.
Then—he moved.
Faster than she could react.
A single step.
A single, fluid motion.
Elaine felt a cold sting on her neck.
Then—darkness.
Her vision cut to black before her mind even registered that she had been killed.
Her body collapsed, her VR avatar flickering out of existence.
The battlefield fell silent.
*****
From a distance, a group of students watched in stunned horror.
They had been sure of their loss the moment they saw Elaine on the enemy team. She was one of the strongest first-years—an elite student with incredible swordsmanship and also an avatar with divine blessings.
Against her? They had stood no chance.
That was what they had thought.
But then he moved.
That boy—that monster—had single-handedly wiped out her entire team.
Without effort.
Without hesitation.
Without mercy.
The watching students exchanged uneasy glances. Who the hell was he?
They had assumed he was just another strong student—a hidden talent among the first-years.
But this?
This wasn't just talent.
This was something else.
One of them hesitated before stepping forward, swallowing hard. "Hey, uh… that was—"
A flash of movement.
A silver arc.
A wet, sickening sound.
The student's head fell from his shoulders before he could even finish his sentence.
The others froze.
Blood sprayed across the temple ruins.
Their fallen teammate's body collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud.
For a second, silence reigned.
Then—
Panic.
"H-he just—!"
"He's insane!"
"We're on the same team!"
It didn't matter.
Because the boy was already moving.
A twisted, manic grin spread across his face as his sword carved through flesh like a brush painting on canvas.
One by one, his so-called allies fell.
Their screams echoed through the temple ruins, swallowed by the dim, eerie light.
Blood pooled around the cracked stone floor, reflecting the faint purple glow of his eyes.
The last student standing stumbled backward, shaking. "W-wait! We're on the same si—"
A clean cut through the throat.
A gurgling sound.
Then—nothing.
The boy exhaled slowly, taking in the scent of fresh blood.
It was intoxicating.
Delicious.
The battlefield was silent once more.
The only thing left was him.
Standing alone among the corpses, his sword dripping crimson onto the temple floor.
His glowing purple eyes flickered with amusement as he admired his work.
Like a demon.
And as the VR simulation registered his victory, only one thought echoed in the minds of those who had witnessed it.
Who the hell was that?
And what kind of monster had just been unleashed in Grand Arcanum Academy?
---
To Be Continued...