***
Across the colosseum, Sam's body shivers, feeling some strange sensation course through him by his power alone.
"Brwrwr!"
Sam shrugs his shoulders and wriggles in his spot against the wall, shuffling his hair as he does.
"What?"
Mason coolly asks, turned away from him. Mason stares off at the stands imagining the filled seats. He rubs his arms and chest, still uncomfortable from losing so much energy in something he barely remembers.
"Nothing. I just got a weird feeling like I'm missing out on something."
Sam's eyes gloss over, shimmering red for a split second. Shaking it off though, Sam starts to look around and finds Mr. Gentus at the far end of the line-up, eyeing all of his combatant students.
"Hmph."
Mason shrugs it off, looking now to find Mr. Gentus as well.
"So what do you think'll happen."
Mason nudges Sam, like saying he must have the answer, being the smarter of the two.
Sam chuckles as his nudge tickles, but his smile slowly falls away. Sam squints through his glasses and focuses on their teacher.
Mr. Gentus seems to be leading away the non-combatant students, guiding them towards the stands.
"Well, he seems to be clearing the arena for us, so my guess is a mock battle with the Cursed class."
Sam pushes his glasses back up his nose, using his middle finger and thumb, covering his face as he does. His eyes shine a sharp red.
"Perfect."
Mason wants to be excited, but he can feel the deep soreness reaching into his bones and the lack of power like he's been starved for days. Mason winces again as he pushes on his stomach, lightly testing his returning strength.
Sam and Mason stay lined against the wall, waiting for Mr. Gentus to return ahead of them. Before long, Mr. Gentus leaps from the arena stands behind them, falling softly to the stone ground.
"So, a fight, then, was it?"
Mr. Gentus seems to read the minds of all the combatant students, everyone prickling at the opportunity to fight, let alone, fight the Blessed class.
Sword and other weapons reach to the clouds above, the class cheers and laugh their naturally cackling laughs. Excited to begin, the student's feet seem to rumble and shake the ground. Mr. Gentus sucks in their motivation and waves his hands, both of them palm facing and moving to keep their bloodlust down. Mr. Gentus chuckles and gets his count for all of the combatant students.
"Now, now, let's keep that energy saved for when we can begin."
He waves them down, letting them settle before he begins to explain.
"There are 18 of you, combatant students. That means we should have an even 6 teams of 3."
Mr. Gentus holds three fingers up, his pinky, his ring finger, and his middle finger. He holds his breath before continuing.
In this space, the students begin to buzz, picking their classmates and friends they feel they can fight best with. Mr. Gentus lets them chatter for a minute. While he waits, their teacher starts to eyeball each of them, finishing on Mason's loosened stance.
"He'll be able to fight, but... "
Mr. Gentus thinks to himself, remembering the damage he felt inside of him.
"The Blessed class will also prepare 6 teams of 3."
Mr. Gentus places his held hand with three fingers behind his head, pointing off to the opposite end of the arena. Just then, the Blessed class's excitement surges and causes a golden wave of energy to fling into the sky.
The Cursed students stop and gawk at it, surprised at the show of power raising into the sky. They follow it until the sun blocks their sight.
"Hmhaha, looks like they're raring to go."
Mr. Gentus chuckles, turning back to his class.
"Let's show them just how ill-ready they are for a fight."
Mr. Gentus turns away now, walking to the stands leaving the students to find their teams among themselves.
As they follow his path, they wonder what more explanation they can get.
"Wha-?"
"That's it?"
"What are we supposed to do though?"
As they stay wondering, Mr. Gentus speaks away from them.
"Oh, I guess a word of wise preparation- Choose a team that can plan, defend, and attack."
Still holding his hand of three, he raises it to his long black hair and finally lets it loose, dragging his fingers through his messy black locks. Shuffling his hair, Mr. Gentus sits down at the first seat available.
Mason scoffs as he watches Mr. Gentus leave them, unsurprised that his attitude works to only get them hurt in a battle. At the same time, Sam finds his advice to be most helpful.
"Can you believe that guy?"
They both say in unison, shocked that the other agrees. Mason's right eyebrow raises, and Sam's mouth hangs ajar.
"Wait- you think he's actually being helpful?"
Mason stands upright, his tone sounding a little more lively now.
"You don't?"
Sam stands up now too, quickly scribbling the words in a new notebook.
SWPP
Mason snags the notebook and starts to thumb through it.
"Seriously, Sam, what good is picking someone who attacks, defends, and plans? We should get 3 attackers and obliterate the Blessed class in a fell swoop!"
Mason throws the book back at him, hitting him square in the chest with it. Sam fumbles to catch it, throwing it up and then snagging it again and hugging it close. Sam quickly checks to see if it's damaged.
"Okay, well what if they make a team of only defensive types? What then?"
Sam stuffs his notebook in his bag and starts to get angry, baffled that Mason doesn't understand the theory behind Mr. Gentus' advice.
"Then I only need to find the strongest attack-types and overpower their stupid defense, Sam!"
Mason's own heated energy starts to flux, twisting his stomach as he stands up to his friend. Mason keeps still in Sam's face, waiting for him to back down and join his team.
Sam's doubt fuel him to back away from Sam, but only to serve another team.
"Good luck with that then."
Sam turns away and spits the words, unusually angered. Sam tightens his bag to his shoulder and walks away, looking down the line of gathered students.
"Tch."
Mason bites down, tightening his own strap to his back. Mason's katana is fixed to his back again.
"No one's going to want to work with someone with so little Cursed energy anyways…"
Mr. Gentus, seated with his legs hiked up to the ledge in front of him, leaned further back, staring up at the passing clouds.
"Oh, Mason... I hope this will teach you a proper lesson."
Mr. Gentus listens in on his thoughts, finding his attitude to be just as correct as he assumed it would be. He lets the day resume, waiting for the class to come back with their selected teammates.
Continued in PART FORTY-EIGHT…