Kyrion dispatched another of the oddly colored food bars, and his stomach groaned in protest.

“Why are you so hungry, stomach?” Kyrion asked the organ that responded with a string of odd wet sounds.

“Kyrion, you will now fight our top student. Don’t give up without a fight. I’m rooting for you, don’t spread that around too much though.” The proctor said conspiratorially.

Kyrion smiled before he frowned. “Gladly…Spread what?”

Someone covered head to toe in golden armor entered the ring. This was followed by various cheers. There were no weapons on their person, through the gauntlets were spiked. Oddly enough, his opponent wasn’t lifting their feet to walk. It was as though they floated forward.

An odd smell hit Kyrion pretty hard as they entered. Like something was burning.

“The battle between Amadeus and The Blind Berserker will begin shortly. The wards will no longer take stamina in exchange for damage. When you can’t fight you can’t fight, and either must surrender or stay imobile for one minute or voluntarily leave the ring. The wards against death will still work.” The referee said.

“Ummm. Ok.” Kyrion said nervously as he eyed his opponent. Of course, he’d have to be extra careful.

Ready? Fight!” The proctor said.

In that split second, the golden warrior had disappeared in its entirety.

Kyrion felt a fist hit his face, stomach, and sides multiple times in the blink of an eye.

Kyrion responded with a wild punch that connected with nothing. But something vice had managed to wrap around his arm.

For the first time since the battle began, he saw his golden armored opponent clearly. “So shiny, it’d be a shame to break it.” he thought.

Sadly it wasn’t for long as he was flipped. His body launched into the air.

Somehow a kick struck Kyrion in the back as he flew, taking him to the ground hard.

“Owwww.” Kyrion rolled to his feet, only for his legs to be swept out from under him.

Punch after punch laid themselves into the boy’s back in quick succession. Sadly the attacks were lacking in the raw power department. They stung and were annoying but did very little damage to his body.

Kyrion built up a vortex of wind and water mana as the assault continued. His mind was on other things as he focused through the pain. When enough power was built up. He let it run free.

Both fighters were sent careening into the stadium’s barrier, where they bounced off and landed back in.

“Oww! What was that?” The armored figure seemed surprised. Their armor had some scrapes and a minor dent in the stomach area.

Kyrion looked at his surprised opponent. His own wounds visibly healed themselves as bruises faded from his body. A torn lip knitted together, and his eyepatch was loosened slightly.

“Do you surrender?” The armored figure said.

“No? We’re just getting started.” Kyrion entered a defensive stance, arms parallel to his face, as water slowly and subtly leaked from his body, almost like sweat. If sweat was made of water mana.

The assault returned, hit after hit on his body, the golden warrior moving around as they struck to avoid the sloppy counters.

The two danced like this for ten minutes, and it was clear that Kyrion stood no chance in a hand-to-hand fight, but his endurance and healing restored the damage almost as fast as it was being dealt.

Unbeknownst to the golden warrior, the whole arena had been covered in a film of water. So when the flurry came this time. Kyrion froze all the water mana he placed on the floor, creating an uneven and slippery surface, leading to his opponent slipping on the ice and becoming airborne.

Kyrion moved forward and threw a punch at his armored opponent as they seemed unable to move.

The boy’s fist passed through his target as a pair of arms wrapped around his stomach and squeezed. Kyrion soon felt his head rushing towards the hard ground.

The boy turned the ice, into water, but he didn’t have time to soften the arena floor much as his skull shattered the pavement.

Kyrion was headfirst in the arena floor and didn’t enjoy it very much. Breathing was hard as his nose was busted and compressed. His arms stuck on the outside, flailing uselessly. Finally, he decided to lash out with mana, hoping to hit something.

The golden armored warrior looked to the referee. “What is he made of?” They asked.

The referee said nothing and smiled smugly point at the opponent.

Kyrion let loose a few spinning tendrils of water and wind to get his opponent away from his position.

“What?” Golden knight stubbled as a tendril of water whacked them upside their head, and a gust of wind sent them flying back.

Kyrion pulled his head out of the small crater and shook off the debris. Next, he got to his feet woozily eying his opponent.

A golden helm was lying on the stadium floor. A diagonal whiplike crack could be seen in the items. A shock of silver and gold passed by the boy before pain was all he knew.

“Ahhh!” Kyrion felt a stabbing pain in his legs as he looked down and noticed two daggers had buried themselves above his knees. Kyrion looked down at the injured appendages and then up at the golden armored figure, helm back on their head.

“Do you surrender?” The figure asked.

Kyrion quickly removed the buried daggers as he healed the wounds. It didn’t take long, much to the surprise of quite a few onlookers.

“I’m keeping these.” Kyrion tossed the blades into his space.

“Those are mine!” The golden armored figure said.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll get you back for that in a moment.” Kyrion tried to take a stance but found that his body wasn’t listening to him as well as it should be. He felt pressure on his temples before something whispered to him.

“Hey. Little Kyr?’ Said an older familiar voice in his head.

A flurry of blows sent Kyrion onto his back as he felt at least ten punches connect with his body. Each strike got harder and harder as they tried to take him out of the fight.

“You’re fast. Faster than I can face head on. So I’ll be going all out, sorry in advance if I hurt you.”

Vines rose from the ground, and roots made themselves known. Saplings grew rapidly, earth was distorted and made one even. Then, ice coated choice sections of the stadium, creating a hazard for anyone who wasn’t careful.

The student in golden armor looked around, holding their hands on their hips, and laughed a distorted laugh. “Ha! Can’t fight me fairly, so you rely on cheap parlor tricks like this?”

“Yes. You’re strong and I don’t know any proper forms or whatever its called. I can’t see your movement with one eye so the best I can do is limit your options.” Kyrion said unashamedly.

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“You’re a coward!” The figure said.

“I’m using my head to fight an opponent that beats my physical abilities.” Kyrion said, grinning as the earth under his feet slowly softened.

“Spineless!” The golden figure yelled as they blurred toward Kyrion’s position.

Kyrion brought a hand up and watched as a cube of earth and ice shot up and intercepted his foe. “I am not an invertebrate.”

Crash!

The golden knight crashed into the cube and fell backward, staggered as vines wrapped around their body, pinning them to the ground. Then, he jumped over the cube legs, prepped to land a falling kick.

Knives flew up at Kyrion while he was in the air. Kyrion created a platform of air and pushed himself out of range of the projectiles.

A barrage of punches battered Kyrion in his face, neck, and chest, loosening his eye patch further as the boy was beaten.

Kyrion landed a blow to his opponent’s stomach, cracking the golden armor as his opponent was sent flying backward.

Amadeus got back to their feet, slowly catching their breath.

Kyrion stood up again as his eyepatch fell to the ground exposing the injury.

A gasp resounded from the crowd as Kyrion stood up with a bit of irritation on his face.

“Hey, Kyrion. You’re going to lose at this rate. Let me show you how to use that body of yours.” Said the older voice, though it was much louder than it was previously. It felt much closer to his conscious mind.

“Shut up.” Kyrion held his head as blood began to rush to his good eye, his sclera darkening as he eyed his opponent.

The armored warrior moved again as they did. Kyrion could actually see more of their movement before it was as though his opponent was teleporting.

Kyrion stomped, opening up a rift under his opponent’s feet which they fell into, much to their surprise.

Kyrion moved forward as he drew a metal staff out of thin air, slamming it into his armored opponent and knocking them to the ground.

There was no one there when the dust settled, and Kyrion’s good eye widened significantly.

As he backed up, Kyrion fell prone as his Achelis tendons had been severed in both ankles. “Ahhh!”

Kyrion’s opponent moved forward and laid into his prone form as punch after punch was laid into his chest.

Kyrion wrapped his arms around the armored figure and headbutted his opponent’s armored head.

“That was stupid.” The armored figure said as Kyion fell back.

The golden helm was quite dented. In addition, the visor now blocked part of their vision.

“I won.” The armored figure looked at the boy, fading from consciousness.

“Not yet. Deal a blow that will trigger the wards or wait three minutes.” The proctor said.

“This is sick!” The golden armored figure was aghast. Pointing at the fading and bleeding figure on the ground.

“I know a few things you don’t. You should also focus on your opponent.” The proctor smiled.

----------------------------------------

Kyrion found his mind wandering into his core as a hooded figure watched him knowingly. Jala Issac and Karl were sitting on various chairs. Looking at a rectangles screen that showed what Kyrion could see. The screen was quite blurry at the moment.

“I’ll take it from here.” The older voice said from within Psycho’s hooded cloak.

“Oh. So you’re the same person. I never liked you. Too many things never added up.” Was all he said as he was forced to take a back seat in his own body.

Jala looked at Kyrion with pity in her eyes. “Get your head back on straight as soon as possible. Your commands have priority. He’s currently piloting your body like a meat puppet but if you can regain full consciousness you can take back control.”

Issac shook his beak. “I would have preferred if the fight ended here. Unfortunately, it’s going to get ugly before it gets good. Psycho is an apt nickname.”

“How can he do this? He’s supposed to be locked away!” Kyrion protested.

“There was a seal, its been weakening as you gained in strength. Still not enough for you to control hence the puppetry. Now eat this and lets discuss my futre and the things I require from you.” Karl handed Kyion a bowl of white fluff.

“Wish I knew these rules. Wait, if I’m unconscious don’t I technically lose?” Kyrion took the bowl and ignored the last bit

The spirits shrugged.

“Well this sucks.” Kyrion ate the white fluff.

“Yeah, it’s tasteless. But chewing should help you calm your nerves.” Karl said.

“What?”

“The popcorn. It’s tasteless.”

“What are you… no, the back seat thing. So who is Psycho anyway?”

Jala sighed. “Technically he’s you, post expert. You know how he said that when you reach a certain level of power, effects that revolve around time are limited.”

“No. No I do not. I always get the sense that he’s hiding information from me. Wait, if he’s me then is that why you follow his orders?”

“Yes master, we are bound to him master, he asked me to butter you up and then throw you into a pot.” Issac said with wide lifeless eyes. A pot made of water appeared around Kyrion.

“You could have just said no.” Kyrion grumbled.

“To be fair. Your will is stronger than his. I’m pretty sure his mind is mostly gone. Had you been weaker than I assume you wouldn’t exist.” Karl said knowingly.

“Huh.” Kyrion’s face went blank.

“Huh what?” Jala said.

“Just having an existential crisis. Didn’t know how close I was to not existing.”

“It’s mostly dormant. Your body physically can’t handle its power yet...”

“Karl!” Jala yelled.

“What. Did I say something wrong? He should learn the truth.” Karl said in a monotone.

“I swear you’re some talking rock.” Issac sighed.

“So what are the affinities then?”

“Blood, death, chaos, and law.” Karl said bluntly.

“Chaos and law? How do those make sense together?”

“It’s an affinity that belongs to those who reach a level of power that goes beyond what you can achieve here. One cannot exist without the other yet they can’t occupy the same place at the same time. You do not have those affinities in your body and won’t possibly ever as long as you stay on Imala...”

“Blah blah blah. So I can’t use those two. Yet blood and death can be used?”

“No. Those are locked until you manage to reach expert. Like most of your space, affinity was sealed. Spirits can control it perfectly. You can not. We don’t need you accidentally decapitating yourself before you know what you’re doing.

“So you can limit my powers?” Kyrion looked at Jala.

“It was Psycho’s idea. He said if you knew what it was, then chances are you’d try using it to peek at girls bathing.”

“That’s just sick.” Kyrion said with a deadpan expression.

“Is it?” Issac asked, interested.

“Yes it is. That was a lie right?” Kyrion said.

“Humans are apes, and in four or five years you may become corrupted as your body changes.”

“I don’t like this conversation and we both know I need to learn about it. I could put that power to better use anyway.”

“Like sneaking into the cafeteria to steal food?”

“Or sneaking out of your classes undetected?”

“Maybe he’d go around messing with those who have wronged them by stealing their left shoes and socks.”

“When have I done anything remotely like that?”

“None of the first two yet. I did hear about the squirrel incident. That isn’t an affinity you know, I can’t tell you what you’re doing until you give them a walnut.” Karl said bluntly.

“Stealing is bad, pranks are good fun. Pranking friends is bad, however, I believe in people getting their fair comeuppance.”

“Ah that’s why you didn’t go through with your plan to have squirrels drop acorns on Kiara when she passed by trees.” Jala said.

“Huh? Oh gods no, I don’t think we became friends until after the first trial. Asela would have caught on and sometimes she’ll snitch. Her friends remain prankless and she turns around when birds leave hearty droplets of dung only on certain peoples yards.”

“It always bugged me how different you two are. I’m starting to think that the peeking was something he’d have done.” Jala sighed.

“So will you teach me now?” Kyrion asked.

“Nope. Maybe when you’re older and more durable. Space is dangerous to manipulate, your backpack ability is easy and simple to use. Though it’s quite a bit bigger than a backpack. You won’t be able to physically travel through it for a while.”

“You took Tiffany there multiple times.” Kyrion observed.

“She’d be a guest. You’d be going into a world within yourself, both mentaly and physically , with no way to know where you’re going as you are.” Jala stated.

“Booo. Oh I’m moving.” Kyrion watched as his body began to move without his orders.

“Master! Get up!” Ceres yelled from the stands.

“Fight Kyrion! You arn’t done yet!” Tiffany cheered on her friend.

“Berserker! Berserker!” The crowd began to chant over and over again.

Ander gripped his chin in contemplation. “So he did lose his eye. That explains a bit of the weirdness then.”

“No depth perception.”

“More than that. I want to fight him again.” Ander’s face turned into a battle-hungry grin.

“S-stay away from master!” Ceres said, disturbed.

“Oh I’d like to fight you as well. Brion, and your friend can join too, we could make it a battle royal.” Ander said in a sultry tone as his voice got a lot deeper all of a sudden. It was clear that it wasn’t a purposeful drop as his eyes widened.

Ceres turned red-faced under her armor. “How barbaric!”

“Doesn’t that make it better?” His voice cracked towards the end of the question.

“Nice dude.” Brion gave his confused friend a high five.

“Tiffany help here!” Ceres said.

“Sure later, I would gladly have a rematch after I train some more.” Tiffany replied, distracted.

“But…” Ceres started.

They watched as Kyrion began to stir in an oddly puppet-like motion.

Tiffany took out a pendant and looked at it. It was currently black, and the dial was turned towards excited. “I feel bad for who he’s fighting.”

----------------------------------------

Gamodren actually looked disappointed at his students’ apparent loss. “A shame.”

“Aren’t you fifty gold richer?”

“No. The fight isn’t over yet.”

“He gave himself a concussion.” The goateed man said.

“He can regenerate, a concussion isn’t much to him its what happens when he gets up and causes trouble.”

“Then what is the problem?” The goateed man asked.

“My dad had more information than I did. Looks like Curella was here to let the headmaster know of potential problems that a certain bald student may cause if pushed. He wasn’t saying that to Amadeus, he was saying that to me.” Gamodren started pacing around the viewing box.

“Do we need to stop the fight?” The old bearded man asked.

“No, this is good. I need to see this, he holds back too much subconsciously. I actually don’t know how much mana he can wield at once. You haven’t seen the maximum I know of yet. Given that there is a diffent pilot at the helm.”

“So that isn’t him down there.”

“Spirit possession.” Gamodren said.

“Thought that was a myth.”

“It is uncommon. I don’t know the details. All I know is he blacks from time to time. During the first trial he was possessed for brief instances multiple times. Though those instances strained his body he came back as himself.”

“Possession is said to be permanent.” The bearded man closed his eyes.

“If the weaker one falls into despair, then their soul is lost. My student is too stubborn to give up to anyone stronger than him.” Gamodren

“What makes you say that?”

“Observation. Lingar was saved because of that stubbornness. Tiffany and her father were saved when he was nothing more than a strong human. There was also the confrontation with Leon, the white wolf died at the end of that confrontation after falling for one of the boy’s tricks.”

“He killed an expert?” The goateed man looked worried.

“No, he incurred the wrath of an eyeless.”

“Ah. That’s how he lost an eye, and I guess Leon got too cocky.”

“Yes, he does.” Gamodren nodded.

“He’s got a mind buried in all that childish innocence and brutish form.” The goateed man said.

“It’s a miracle he managed to stay dim as long as he did.” The headmaster said, breaking his silence.

“Did you know he was like this before he became a candidate? The type to take on stronger opponents. I mean.” The bearded man asked.

“I found that out on the first day we met.” The headmaster said.

“At the Bean Sprout academy?” The goateed man asked.

“Oh no. It’s a story for another time.” A smile grew on the headmaster’s face.