Linda's back was drenched in sweat from the aura coming off the two of them.
She couldn't fathom why the two acted that way, least of all Giuseppe, considering he shouldn't even be able to see Mavena.
"Bring up the file on those two at the front," Mavena ordered.
"Right away," Linda responded, two holographic screens emerged.
[Marcus Vathen]
-Student ID: 0508914681570476
-Combat Ranking: #2
-Academic Ranking: #3
[Giuseppe Castellano]
-Student ID: 0418041809567148
-Combat Ranking: #1
-Academic Ranking: Unranked
"Haha…" Mavena chuckles, her hand covering her face in a futile attempt to silence her laughter.
Linda raises a brow in confusion.
***
"What the fuck are you grinning about, psycho?" Arthur questions Giuseppe as they walk towards the Arena.
"Nothin'~," Giuseppe replies with a playful lilt.
Giuseppe snaps his head toward a pair of smiling students, their fingers intertwined—a young couple in love, perhaps?
Regardless, their moment is cut short as Giuseppe ruins it for no reason.
"He's cheating on you."
He turns to a cheerful young woman absorbed in her phone.
"Your parents don't love you."
His gaze shifts to a gleeful young man.
"Ay, ay, ay, who the fuck told you you could be happy, huh?"
Marcus and the others were long accustomed to Giuseppe's habit of spreading misery to others, it was like the only way for him to be happy was to make other people sad.
Once Giuseppe completed his morning routine of harassing a few students for no reason, the group finally arrives at the colossal Combat Arena—at least the size of a few stadiums.
The group takes a seat with the rest of the students at the spectator area. Sitting on the back row, the group waits for the instructor.
Eventually, after a few minutes. A tall middle-aged woman with long curly white hair arrives.
Marcus looks slightly disappointed when he sees who it is—or rather, who it isn't.
Giuseppe, once again, gives a side glance at Marcus, but pretends not to notice anything—instead refocusing on Mavena.
She carries a large European longsword strapped to her waist, its hilt was black with gold accents, much like her outfit.
Her posture is confident yet relaxed, exuding the aura of an experienced warrior.
Marcus glances at Giuseppe, already knowing what he was about to do.
'I know that look all too well…'
"A viper..." Giuseppe mutters, his black eyes grow a shade darker—locked on the new instructor. But he sees more than just a woman—a massive, emerald-scaled serpent coils around her, watching with cold, unblinking eyes.
This was her Fighting Spirit, the raw manifestation of her soul and individuality.
Marcus and the others hear Giuseppe's whisper but pay it no mind. They've grown used to his cryptic remarks whenever he meets someone new.
After all, it was the same when he met them.
When he first saw Marcus, he called him a panther.
Tandav, a sphinx.
Arthur, a lion.
Daniel, a fox.
None but Marcus knew what he meant by it, but what they did know was he was never wrong when it came to matters of combat.
And in the end, it was Giuseppe who brought them all together, so they didn't bother questioning it.
Mavena steps onto the arena floor with the deliberate grace of a seasoned warrior. Her piercing gaze sweeps across the gathered students, sharp as the edge of her blade. She stands still for a moment, letting the weight of her presence settle over them like an approaching storm. The murmurs in the crowd die down.
Then, she speaks.
"Welcome to my arena. Your proving ground,"
Her voice is deep and steady, carrying across the massive arena without effort.
"Some of you think you're strong. Some of you think you're smart. A few you of might even think you're untouchable. Let me be very clear—none of that matters here,"
She paces slowly, her steps echoing against the floor.
"In this arena, strength is not a number on a screen. Intelligence isn't just a tool to get good grades. Here, you will bleed. You will fall. Some of you will break. But those of you who endure…" She stops, placing a hand on the hilt of her longsword. "You might just graduate from your current 'Bitch-status,'"
She smiles as she unsheathes the blade with a slow, deliberate motion. The black-and-gold hilt gleams under the arena lights, the steel whispering as it leaves its scabbard.
"Now then…" A faint smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "Who wants to show me what they're made of?"
***
"Whoo~, she sure has the mouth of a sailor," Arthur releases a whistle of amazement.
"How did someone like that get hired?" Daniel says perplexedly.
"I don't even care. I like her, so she is staying even if I have to beat up the principle himself," Giuseppe says with a wide grin.
"Yeah, I think you forgot what happened when you tried that before. You came back battered and beaten," Marcus corrects him.
"Maybe he got beat so bad, he got permanent brain damage?" Tandav adds, his tone suggesting he was seriously considering it.
"Yeah,"
"Maybe,"
"Sounds about right,"
The rest of the group agrees a vein threatens to pop on Giuseppe's face—but before he can lash out, a firm voice silences the students' chatter.
"Silence!" Mavena shouts, power evident in her voice.
"Listen up." Mavena's voice cuts through the air like a blade. "When I call your names, two of you will step into this arena—and you will fight,"
She lets the words hang for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the students like a predator sizing up prey.
"I don't want hesitation. I don't want excuses. I want to see skill, power, and will," Her grip tightens on her sword. "If what I see doesn't impress me—if you waste my time—you're out. No second chances. No mercy,"
She steps forward, eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "So when I call your name… pray you're ready,"
"Tandav Soman, Athur Rain—step forward," She orders, her voice sharp and commanding. She lifts her sword, the tip pointing directly at them.
_________________
A/N: :)