Kyrion lay on the ground unmoving, his iris gone, and his sclera had gone completely black.

“The fight isn’t over yet.” Kyrion’s body said in a maddened sing-song voice.

“Stay down! You arn’t fit to fight.”

Kyrion’s body began to rise. Ignoring the request.

Amadeus charged toward the downed target intending to take him out of the fight.

Kyrion’s body stood and then collapsed as it realized that it needed to heal first. The tendons in his legs were reknit and restored.

Amadeus kicked Kyrion in his side with enough force to send him airborne.

Kyrion rearranged himself with wind mana and landed on his feet, albeit his stance resembled that of a puppet on a string as his limbs moved sloppily.

Amadeus reappeared with a punch that should have connected with Kyrion’s head. Instead, it missed as the boy ducked under the blow.

Kyrion’s body countered with a punch through his opponent’s golden armor connecting with their stomach and blasting them away with a mix of wind, earth, and healing mana.

The golden armored figure stood back up and began to move around, seemingly unbothered despite the hole in their armor that revealed a white tunic that seemed undamaged.

“That hurt. I’ve been taking it easy so far. Now I’m serious!”

Kyrion watched as his opponent slid towards him in a zig-zag motion. Faster than before, but now he could see it.

How could he see it?

Kyrion’s left hand caught the right fist, and he spun. Slinging the golden armored figure into the arena’s barrier.

The golden figure landed feet first and began to circle their opponent at high speeds. Their armor started to glow and smell like burnt cloth.

Large tendrils of water appeared in the arena as various plants died and ice melted. They circled Kyrion counterclockwise, on the ground easy enough to be hopped over at the rate it was going.

The referee stood there unbothered as the tendrils just passed through him, not doing any physical damage.

The armored figure had to jump and duck the accelerating tendrils. Each rotation grew closer to the mark.

“I’m going to punch you in your face really hard this time!” The figure said as five rocks and a dagger flew at the boy.

Kyrion picked up his staff and spun it at high speed, deflecting the dagger and rocks before rolling to the side.

An explosion of fire and sound erupted from Kyrion’s previous position, the force knocking him aside further despite his distance from the blast. Blood flowed from the boy’s ears as he stood unbothered. A maddened look rested in Kyrion’s eye as he charged forward, staff in hand.

Amadeus sidestepped an overhead slam from the staff that quickly dug into the ground.

An explosive fist into Kyrion’s side detonated in a blast of stone and shrapnel.

When the smoke cleared, Kyrion looked physically unbothered by the blow, although some burn marks on his chest were still healing rapidly.

“I hit you head-on. That should have triggered the wards! This! You’re healing!’ The golden armored figure was dumbstruck.

“Not strong enough yet,” Kyrion said happily as his staff came out of the ground.

Now resembling a large hammer, the staff was slammed into his opponent’s body, flinging them back exponentially as more armor was shattered and dented. Finally, their body bounced off the barrier and into a tendril of water that grabbed them.

Amadeus was dragged across the arena before being flung into the barrier over and over. Scraps of golden armor began to fall to the ground with each strike.

The tendrils started to speed up before they stopped suddenly. The tendrils collapsed into water, and Kyrion took in a deep breath before coughing.

“Something isn’t right. We have more mana than this!” Kyrion’s body began to alter

The sclera of Kyrion’s eye slowly retired to normal as Kyrion began to stumble and collapse from dizziness. Blood was still flowing from his ears.

Suffice it to say, Amadeus was quite mad at this point. One wouldn’t have been wrong to say that they were pissed at the whole situation.

So when they walked over and picked up the confused bald boy whose only injury seemed to be in their ears. They laid into him as a flurry of punches aimed at his stomach made contact, each blow dealing more damage than the last.

“What in the? That was sudden.” Kyrion said, his consciousness finally returning to him as a kick to the head knocked him across the stadium floor.

He rose back up to his feet but felt that it was troublesome at most. He was nauseous, dizzy, beaten, deaf, his stomach felt funny, and his blood felt like it was burning him alive from the inside. Even his heartbeat was annoying him as it was going at a speed that it shouldn’t. He also felt drained, opening his mouth wide to make his surrender known.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

He stood with his staff, using it to hold himself up as a gauntleted fist made direct contact with his stomach.

“Ahhii…” Was all Kyrion got out, before the incident.

Kyrion grabbed the fist and squeezed, denting the metal and trapping his opponent out of an unfortunate reflex. Then he hurried. Not the intended punch, not a kick. But a putrid black bile that landed inside his opponent’s suit of armor in an unhealthy even coating. Had it been a little, that could have been cleaned easily, but no. Thirty bars worth of bacteria and nutrients flowed from his stomach quite quickly, and it didn’t stop even as the boy’s consciousness faded some more.

A scream echoed from inside the armor as Kyrion’s opponent ran off. Out of the arena and then the stadium. Which led to Kyrion falling into his own filth, unable to support his own weight.

Kyrion did not get up for three minutes after the fall.

“Amadeus has left the arena by the rules stated. Kyrion has been downed for three minutes. So I must conclude that this fight ended in a draw.” The referee stated.

A hole burned into the floor of the arena floor where Kyrion was lying. So the benevolent proctor decided to drag him out of the arena into the waiting room. But to rest on a wooden bench stomach first so that he wouldn’t choke.

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

Kyrion was inside his core again. His arms crossed as he observed the five spirits that lived there.

“Psycho. Don’t take my body without my permission. Never again, you did more harm than good. Also, remove your hood.” Kyrion crossed both of his arms.

“Fine. Though you may regret your choices.”

Kyrion looked at Jala. “I want to get stronger, I don’t want any of you hiding abilities from me because the lack of such things may get me killed. I will not die because I didn’t have all my options.”

“That is fair. I will teach you but you won’t be able to practice until you reach practitioner fully.” Jala didn’t budge much.

Karl took a step forward. “About my…”

“Issac, I like what you taught me about balance and control. What I want next is your assistance in using Undine’s power. I haven’t felt much different despite absorbing it and like I said with Jala, I need to know how to use my abilities, all of them.”

“Took you long enough.” Issac smirked.

“Tree, I wish you could talk. You have quite a few secrets, my body has been steadily growing tougher. If you can transfer Knowledge again then do so when I sleep.”

Karl stayed silent. The tree was also silent.

“Ok Karl. You need to get stronger. I need to get stronger. Teach me what I need to learn. I haven’t had much time to focus on your growth since you’re a newer power. Now I’m ready to learn.”

“Good. That works, Kyrion. I’ll need quite a few materials to build my dungeon here.”

“Here as in my core.” Kyrion pointed down.

“No. Your pocket space. I’m building a dungeon there when you have the space.”

“What does that even mean?” Kyrion asked.

“When you hit practitioner rank, it will be easier to understand. I am simply squirting away things and building my template for them. You’ll be able to get so much training here when it’s done, a special training ground that only people you chose can enter. A place with rules you will learn to manipulate.”

Kyrion closed his eyes and sighed. “Ok. Still can’t wake up….”

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

Ander had grown pale by the end of the fight. But, for him, it was a wild ride until the end, like riding a speedy and angry horse that could fly.

“Well I learned quite a bit. Though I don’t intend to win like that.”

“Yeah…Kyrion was moving funny towards the end there. Had Amadeus been more patient, then it’d be a different story. Kyrion would have passed out on his own.” Brion said, rubbing his chin.

“What do you mean?” Tiffany asked.

“His equilibrium was shot when his eardrums were ruptured. Combined with the continuous strikes to his head and stomach it was clear he was losing his balance. His equilibrium was shot and his vision was limited. Combined with blood loss and the sudden drop of his attacks it was clear he used up all his mana. His regeneration had stopped completely and that last hit made it to his undefended stomach. All I’m saying is that the opponent should have just waited.”

“How could you figure all that out?” Tiffany asked.

Brion slapped his wheelchair. “Can’t fight very long right now, so I study those I see as my opponents closely and develop ways to combat them. The brain is also a muscle or so I’ve been told. I’ve lost too many fights because I didn’t observe and plan before rushing in and getting hurt.”

“I see.” Tiffany looked at her prone friend lying on the stadium floor as the pendant was glowing blue again, its dial set to irritation.

“Poor master. Let’s go meet him outside.” Ceres said to the others.

“I’ll pass. I got some training to do. Brion you coming?”

“Yup. After seeing that he’s passed me that much I have to train at least twice as hard now.” Brion said cheerily as he started rolling towards the off-ramp.

“Guess it’s just us two.” Tiffany said.

“That is fine.” Ceres replied.

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

After a thirty-minute wait, Kyrion finally started to stir.

“Kyrion the Barfbarian. How does a title like that make you feel?” The proctor asked.

“What!?” Kyrion eyed the man with a half-lidded eye. His eyepatch had been replaced on the boy’s face while he was asleep.

Some slaps to the boy’s face got his attention as the proctor pointed to his ears, and Kyrion put two and three together.

“Oh! Sorry! I was tooo quiet! Speak up!” He yelled.

The proctor placed a finger next to Kyrion’s ear and drew it back as it was stained with dried blood.

Kyrion sent mana into his ears to heal him and felt a pop as he could hear again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I need a new everything. What happened?”

“You technically achieved a draw considering that they knocked you unconscious and you unleashed an attack that made them flee the arena. I ruled it that way since you were clearly out of it. That is some endurance you have.”

Kyrion withdrew a blue lotus which he planted on his person allowing it to clean his body and clothes before he stood. The process was slow, which showed that the concoction was very potent.

“Blame my teacher. It was the first thing he trained me on. Why I’m not sure.” Kyrion felt exceptionally weak despite the almost damage-less form he was taking. Most of his outer wounds were healed. Although he wasn’t getting any outside help on his insides.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The sunglasses-wearing man said.

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

Gamodren and the headmaster were standing in an office. Two cushioned chairs faced each other with a desk between them. Paperwork, ink, and pens line the desk with quite a few bits and baubles. A bookshelf lined the walls filled with a collection of works that may or may not have been read by the owner of said office. The door to the room was closed and blocked from all sorts of scrying and snooping.

“Pretty lenient to call that a draw.” Gamodren crossed his arms, suspicion on his face.

“I needed to push my pupil. They got a bit too cocky from leading the pack so long. I knew that under the right circumstances your student would push them one way or another. What we showed was that people from outside the school could be just as strong if not more power than them.” The man in sunglasses smirked.

“Mmmmhmmm. Father, what are you not telling me about my pupil?” Gamodren’s pupils seemed to shrink as he eyed the man.

“Enough to know that he’s more dangerous than you let on, just soft. Some people are genetically ruthless and embrace it. Others have spent time keeping themselves under control. You’ve been too soft in your teaching, that boy needs to be pushed to his limits and beyond. Which probably sounds insane given how much growth he’s had so far. He’s learned to adapt and use his abilities for the good of others. Now it’s time for him to really learn how to fight, otherwise my own pupil will lose their rival.”

“Kyrion can’t compete with your student normally?” Gamodren said with raised eyebrows.

“It isn’t that. They have a power that can get very destructive, they’ve never met anyone at their level who could endure many of their attacks. Heck the explosive attack is what kept them on top, most go down when hit. They haven’t tried to make that attack any stronger since they developed it.”

“Ceres was too durable, but she’s a practitioner so that can be overlooked because rank. Kyrion is at the same rank and he shrugged off multiple blows healing and countering. Had he been trained purely in combat the whole time he possibly could have won.” Gamodren raised an eyebrow.

“Wrong partially. While winning is important, it’s more to do with embarrassment.” The headmaster said.

“Is that why you tampered with those bars he’d been guzzling down.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Only you would poison the horse you bet on to make it seem like an underdog.” Gamodren sighed.

“I see nothing wrong with such an arrangement but I didn’t touch anything he ate.”

“He isn’t going to trust his sister for a while. Do you like messing with people?”

“Yes. Though Thalia shouldn’t use ingredients with bad reactions with common airborne spores. The kind that slowly enters one’s system.”

“It’s a miracle he lasted that long.” Gamodren said.

“Is it now?” A bushy eyebrow was raised.

“How premeditated was this?” Gamodren realized his student had been getting played from the beginning, and he, too, had a few things to learn.

“Little Gamodren, a magician, never revealed his secrets.” The headmaster vanished from sight.

“About the lies I told the elders.” Gamodren eyed the man who raised him with suspicion.

“A necessary evil. We don’t know what spirit possessed him at which moment. He wasn’t our student then either so we wouldn’t have cared back then. He didn’t have any hair to watch turn black either. Mutations do happen with growth, hair colors change.”

“Got it. What happened there was the same that happened here as far as we are concerned.” Gamodren shook his head.