The central combat arena was bigger than Nox had expected. Thirty meters across, circular, ringed by stone walls that rose to tiered seating on all sides. The floor was polished granite, scored with faint lines from years of combat skills discharged at close range. Morning light came through high windows and hit the stone at angles that made the whole space feel like the inside of a clock.
Three hundred students in the seats. Faculty in the front rows. Vice Dean Lun in the center of the faculty section, posture impeccable, clipboard on her knee. Instructor Mira two seats over, arms folded, watching the arena floor with the focused calm of someone who'd seen real violence and found this version quaint.
Nox stood in the Class 3 staging area, a roped-off section at the arena's south end. His team stood with him. Lin Mei was rolling her shoulders, loosening up. Tan Yi had her hands clasped in front of her, fingers white. Guo Feng was bouncing on his toes, nervous energy leaking out through his feet.
Across the arena, Class 1's staging area was organized like a military briefing. Five fighters standing in a line. Matching stance. Controlled breathing. Pang Wei in front, dual short swords sheathed at his hips, red sleeve band bright against the gray uniform.
The fifth fighter stood at the back. Tall, broad, unfamiliar. He held two practice swords in a loose grip and watched the Class 3 team with the detached interest of a cat watching birds through a window.
"Who is that?" Nox asked Lin Mei.
"I don't know. He wasn't in Class 1's roster last week. Must be a transfer or a special addition."
"Can they do that?"
"Rules say five registered fighters by day four. They registered him. It's legal."
The referee, an instructor Nox didn't recognize, stepped to the center of the arena. He held up a hand. The crowd quieted.
"Class Battle. Class 3 versus Class 1. Elimination format. Each team sends one fighter. Winner stays. Loser is eliminated. A fighter may yield or be knocked unconscious or pushed out of bounds. Lethal force is prohibited. Crippling strikes are prohibited. The referee may stop a match at any time." He looked at both staging areas. "Class 1 sends their first fighter."
Pang Wei stepped into the arena. No hesitation. His swords stayed sheathed. He walked to the center line and stood with his arms at his sides, waiting.
The crowd reacted. Not with cheering exactly, but with the particular rustle of three hundred people adjusting their posture to get a better view. Pang Wei was the top-ranked freshman. Everyone knew who he was. Everyone knew what he could do.
"Class 3 sends their first fighter."
Nox looked at Lin Mei. She was already retying her wrist wraps, pulling the tape tight with her teeth. She caught his eye and nodded. They'd discussed this. She knew the plan.
"Don't try to win," Nox said. "Just make him work."
"I know."
"If he uses ice, stay mobile. If he uses fire, shield. If he uses both—"
"I know, Nox."
She stepped into the arena.
---
Lin Mei was five foot four and built like a fire hydrant. Next to Pang Wei, who had six inches and thirty pounds on her, she looked like someone who'd wandered into the wrong event. The crowd's reaction confirmed it. A murmur. Not cruel, exactly. Pitying.
Lin Mei didn't seem to notice. She walked to the center line, set her feet, and activated Physical Enhancement. Her skin took on a faint metallic sheen as the C-rank skill reinforced her body's structural integrity. Muscles, bones, tendons, all hardened. She couldn't hit harder, but she could take hits that would drop a normal C-rank student.
Pang Wei drew one sword. Just one. The ice blade. He held it loosely in his right hand, point angled toward the floor. Casual. The stance of someone who didn't expect to need both weapons.
"Begin," the referee said.
Pang Wei moved. Fast. Ice sword up in a sweeping arc aimed at Lin Mei's shoulder. A disabling strike, not a killing blow. Clean. Efficient. The sword trailed frost in the air.
Lin Mei didn't dodge. She set her feet wider, raised her left arm, and took the sword on her forearm.
Metal rang against hardened flesh. The ice sword bit into her Physical Enhancement barrier but didn't break through. Frost spread across her sleeve. Her arm went numb from the cold. She didn't move.
Pang Wei's eyes narrowed. He'd expected the first strike to stagger her. She was still standing. He pulled the sword back and struck again. Same angle. Harder. Lin Mei took it on the same arm. More frost. The sleeve was stiff with ice now. But she held her ground.
Third strike. Fourth. Lin Mei rotated, taking hits on different points of her body. Shoulders. Arms. Her reinforced abdomen when he aimed low. Each hit cost her something. Energy. Warmth. The frost was accumulating, slowing her movements, making her joints stiffer. But she wasn't going down.
Pang Wei stepped back. Reassessed. He drew the fire sword with his left hand.
"Uh oh," Guo Feng said from the staging area.
Dual affinity. Ice and fire simultaneously. The ice sword froze and the fire sword burned, and using both meant Pang Wei was operating at full capacity. Lin Mei's Physical Enhancement was rated to handle C-rank attacks. Pang Wei's dual strikes combined to B-rank output.
He came in again. Ice from the right. Fire from the left. A scissors pattern that hit both sides of Lin Mei's guard at once. She blocked the ice with her left arm and the fire with her right and the force of the combined strike pushed her back three feet. Her boots scraped grooves in the granite.
She held.
Pang Wei pressed. A flurry of alternating strikes. Ice, fire, ice, fire. Each one hammered Lin Mei's enhancement barrier. Frost on the left side of her body. Scorch marks on the right. She was being torn in two directions by opposing elements and the only thing keeping her upright was stubbornness and a C-rank skill that was running on fumes.
Thirty seconds. Lin Mei had survived thirty seconds against Pang Wei at full power. That was longer than any Class 3 fighter had lasted against him in three years.
He shifted to a single devastating combination. Ice sword swept low, taking Lin Mei's left leg. She buckled. Fire sword came overhead, aimed at her shoulder.
Lin Mei dropped to one knee. The fire sword passed over her head. She was still in the fight.
Pang Wei kicked her in the chest. Not a technique. Not a skill. Just a boot, backed by the body of an eighteen-year-old dual-affinity prodigy, connecting with the sternum of a woman whose enhancement was flickering. Lin Mei flew backward four meters and hit the granite hard.
The referee stepped forward. Checked. Lin Mei was conscious but couldn't stand. Her enhancement had collapsed. Her arms were a patchwork of frost and burns.
"Class 3's first fighter is eliminated. Class 1 retains: Pang Wei."
The crowd applauded. Not enthusiastically. Politely. The expected outcome had occurred.
Lin Mei limped back to the staging area. Tan Yi caught her arm and the healing aura activated, green light flowing into Lin Mei's damaged muscles. Lin Mei sat down on the bench. She was breathing hard but her eyes were clear.
"Forty-one seconds," she said. "He used both swords."
"I saw," Nox said.
"He's burning more energy with dual affinity. Another two fights like that and he'll be feeling it."
Nox looked at the arena. Pang Wei stood at the center line. He'd sheathed the fire sword but kept the ice sword drawn. Slightly less casual now. His breathing was a fraction heavier.
"Class 3 sends their second fighter."
Guo Feng stopped bouncing. He looked at Nox.
"Stick to the plan?" he asked.
The plan was to use Guo Feng later, against weaker opponents. To save the grab-and-dump for fighters who couldn't react to a teleport. But Pang Wei was slightly drained from fighting Lin Mei, and the next Class 1 fighters would be fresh. If Guo Feng was going to face Pang Wei regardless, better to face him now while he was slightly tired than later when Nox might need Guo Feng against someone else.
"New plan," Nox said. "The grab. On Pang Wei. Now."
"He's a dual-affinity genius with reflexes like a—"
"He just spent forty-one seconds using both elements at full power against Lin Mei. His reaction time is half a second slower than baseline. It's the best window you'll get."
Guo Feng looked at the arena. Looked at Pang Wei. Looked back at Nox.
"Okay," he said. "Don't miss with the fire."
He stepped into the arena.
---
Guo Feng looked even smaller than Lin Mei against Pang Wei. Where Lin Mei was compact and dense, Guo Feng was wiry and hollow. No combat stance. No weapon. He stood at the center line and fidgeted, weight shifting from foot to foot, hands loose.
Pang Wei studied him. Recognized the lack of combat readiness. Filed it away.
"Begin."
Guo Feng vanished.
Flash Step. Three meters of instant teleportation. He appeared directly behind Pang Wei, inside arm's reach, and grabbed the collar of his uniform.
Pang Wei reacted in the time it took Nox's heart to beat once.
The ice sword came back in a reverse grip, driving the pommel toward Guo Feng's face. Not a slash. A close-quarters jab. The kind of move that only came from someone who'd been training close combat since childhood.
Guo Feng's hand was on Pang Wei's collar. The Flash Step was charged. He jumped.
The teleport activated. Both of them moved three meters. But Pang Wei twisted during the jump. His body rotated against Guo Feng's grip, and when they landed, he was facing Guo Feng instead of facing away. The ice sword was already moving.
The pommel hit Guo Feng in the temple.
Not hard enough to kill. Not even hard enough to concuss, probably. But hard enough to break the Flash Step's grip. Guo Feng's hand came off the collar. He staggered. Pang Wei was already two steps away, outside grab range.
Guo Feng's Flash Step was on cooldown. Eight seconds. He stood in the center of the arena with a ringing skull and no escape.
"Flash Step out!" Nox shouted from the staging area. "Wait for cooldown!"
Eight seconds. Guo Feng started running. Not toward Pang Wei. Away. Buying time. The arena was thirty meters across. If he could stay ahead for eight seconds, he could teleport to safety.
He made it five.
Pang Wei closed the distance in three strides. Ice projection at range would have been the smart play, but Pang Wei chose something more personal. He sheathed the ice sword mid-stride, shifted to bare hands, and caught Guo Feng by the shoulder. One hand. A grip that locked Guo Feng's rotation.
Then he swept Guo Feng's legs and put him on the ground.
Not gently. The impact knocked the air from Guo Feng's lungs. His head bounced off the granite. His eyes went glassy.
"Class 3's second fighter is eliminated. Class 1 retains: Pang Wei."
Guo Feng lay on the arena floor for three seconds before the medics reached him. He was conscious. Barely. They helped him to his feet and he walked back to the staging area under his own power, which was the only dignity left in a fight that had lasted less than ten seconds.
Score: 0-2. Class 1.
Nox helped Guo Feng to the bench. Tan Yi's healing aura washed over him. The glassy look in his eyes faded.
"Sorry," Guo Feng said. His voice was thick. "He was faster than I thought."
"You landed the grab."
"And he broke it in half a second. The jump didn't take him where I wanted. He twisted. I didn't account for him rotating during the teleport."
Nox filed that away. Flash Step moved the target, but it didn't control their orientation. A skilled fighter could adjust mid-jump. The grab-and-dump had a vulnerability they hadn't tested for: opponents who could fight during the teleport itself.
"Class 3 sends their third fighter."
Tan Yi stood. Her hands were still clasped in front of her, fingers still white. She was a healer. Her combat rating was near zero. She was walking into an arena against the top-ranked freshman who had just dismantled two fighters in under a minute combined.
"Thirty seconds," Nox said to her. "Just give me thirty seconds."
"What happens in thirty seconds?"
"I figure out how to beat him."
Tan Yi looked at him. Her expression was the expression of someone who was about to do something stupid on the basis of someone else's confidence.
"Thirty seconds," she said, and walked into the arena.
Pang Wei watched her approach. He saw the support affinity in the green shimmer of her dormant healing aura. He saw the lack of a weapon. He saw a healer.
He didn't sheathe his sword. But he didn't draw the second one either.
The referee raised his hand.
Nox focused. Hard. Harder than he'd ever focused outside of combat. His vision shifted. The code overlay flickered to life. Translucent. Wavering. But there.
He looked at Pang Wei.
And for the first time, he read an opponent's skill parameters while they stood in the arena waiting to fight.
"Begin," the referee said.
