Then, with a blinding flash, the shield's energies surged forward, reflecting the demon's attack back toward its origin with a surge of power that seemed to tear through the air. The spear, now blazing with the combined force of light and wind, shot back at the demon like a vengeful star falling from the heavens. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath as the demon's eyes widened in shock, a flicker of terror breaking through his fierce gaze as his own attack hurtled toward him, unstoppable and unyielding.
The spear struck with deadly precision, piercing straight through the demon’s fiery, lightning-infused form. There was a flash of searing white light, followed by a deafening explosion that sent shockwaves through the ground. Energy erupted around the demon, engulfing him in a storm of blinding power, twisting and tearing at his form. The brightness was so intense that those watching had to shield their eyes, the light blurring the outline of his body until it was swallowed in a torrent of energy.
When the light finally faded, only silence remained, broken only by the faint crackle of lingering energy dissipating into the air. There, where a powerful demon had once stood, was nothing more than a charred, lifeless husk. The figure lay still, reduced to ashes, its terrifying form now a memory in the minds of the crowd. The demon, once a devastating force of destruction, was no more.
The arena fell silent as the crowd processed the sudden end. But just then, in a low, gravelly voice that seemed to echo beyond death, the demon’s last words rasped out, drifting over the stunned spectators. “You humans… rely on other races’ powers…” His voice faded, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. The demon’s body crumbled, a hollow shell with a gaping hole where the spear had struck, leaving only scorched ground behind. There was no blood—only the residue of the spear’s energy, which had burned him from within.
Roger Blake, the powerful hero who had orchestrated the demon’s downfall, watched with a solemn expression. He turned to his squad and, with a steady voice, ordered, “Team, try to heal him.”
His squad hesitated, their faces a mixture of confusion and fear, but they quickly obeyed. They moved forward, hands glowing with healing energy as they channeled it toward the lifeless husk. Yet despite their efforts, the demon’s body remained still, unresponsive. The energy dissipated into the air, leaving nothing but ashes. Roger’s face darkened, though he betrayed no other sign of emotion as he turned back toward the crowd.
The crowd murmured nervously, casting glances at each other. The Vice President, standing high above the arena, raised his hand for silence. His expression was a mixture of satisfaction and reassurance as he spoke. “It was a self-destruction,” he said with a knowing nod. “Roger Blake did not kill him.” His words, though calm, did little to settle the unease that had gripped the spectators.
Among the crowd, Hiro’s face was pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. He leaned closer to Kyren, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Kyren… what’s wrong with these people?” His voice trembled, his usual playfulness absent as the reality of the academy’s brutal nature sank in.
Kyren didn’t reply immediately. He was lost in thought, his gaze lingering on the lifeless remains of the demon, processing the scene and the sheer strength displayed by Roger Blake. The academy seemed filled with warriors and beings far more powerful than anything they could imagine, and an unsettling sense of dread began to settle over him.
“We can’t survive here as we are,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Everyone’s stronger… far stronger than we could’ve guessed.” A note of desperation crept into his voice as he added, “I think we really need one of those pieces of equipment, Hiro.”
Hiro’s eyes flicked toward Kyren, their usual sparkle replaced by a hint of fear. “But… where can we even get that kind of gear?” he asked, his voice almost pleading.
Kyren shook his head, his expression heavy with doubt. “I don’t know…” he said quietly, the weight of their situation pressing down on him. The academy, with its formidable students and hidden dangers, suddenly felt more ominous than ever.
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Their conversation was cut short as the Vice President’s voice rang out again, breaking the tense silence. “And now, the next round of challenges will begin. We have the 4th GA, Penny Pluma.”
A hush fell over the crowd as a figure stepped forward, cutting a striking figure in the center of the arena. Penny Pluma stood tall, her presence exuding a quiet, unshakeable confidence. Her eyes scanned the crowd, a calm, penetrating gaze that seemed to search for any hint of challenge. But despite her poised stance, the crowd remained still. The Vice President gave a satisfied nod. “No challengers for Penny Pluma. She retains her position as the 4th GA.”
The announcement hung in the air, and the crowd whispered, exchanging nervous glances. Hiro shifted, his face troubled. “Kyren… everyone’s scared to even try.”
Kyren nodded, feeling a pang of frustration. He understood now just how much power these GA held over the academy. One by one, the Vice President continued, each name adding to the oppressive weight in the atmosphere.
“Next, we have the 5th GA, Romeo Brian.”
Romeo stepped forward, his presence commanding attention as he strode confidently into the center of the arena. He waited in silence, a faint smile playing on his lips, as if daring someone to approach him. But like Penny, he faced no opposition. The Vice President nodded, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “No challengers for Romeo Brian. He retains his position as the 5th GA.”
The Vice President allowed a moment of silence before announcing, “And now, the 6th GA, Sweetie Sway.”
As Sweetie Sway took her place, her ash-pink hair flowed elegantly in the breeze, capturing the crowd’s gaze. She carried herself with a graceful poise, and a hint of a smile played on her lips as she regarded the spectators. The serene aura around her was suddenly interrupted by a loud shout from the stands.
“The 6th GA is weak!” A tall, muscular student emerged, sneering as he pointed at Sweetie. “She’s nothing but a pretty face. I’ll prove it.”
Sweetie Sway’s smile didn’t falter, her serene expression unchanging as she waited for the Vice President’s signal. At his nod, the match began. The challenger lunged forward, swinging wildly, expecting an easy victory. But Sweetie moved with an almost otherworldly elegance, sidestepping each blow effortlessly. Her bullwhip snapped through the air, cracking with a force that sent the crowd into gasps.
Each crack of the whip was a precise, calculated strike, disarming and disorienting her opponent. Her movements were fluid, her control of the whip masterful. She didn’t need to rely on any mystical powers—her skill alone was more than enough to turn the tide. The challenger swung again, more desperate, but Sweetie Sway’s movements were a blur, weaving around him, her whip dancing through the air. With one final, decisive strike, she coiled the whip around his legs and yanked hard, sending him crashing to the ground.
The crowd fell silent, stunned by her effortless display of skill. Sweetie looked down at her defeated opponent, calm and unruffled. She flicked her whip, releasing the challenger, then turned to face the Vice President, her expression serene.
The Vice President’s voice was filled with a dark satisfaction. “Sweetie Sway is victorious. She retains her position as the 6th GA.” He smiled, an ominous gleam in his eyes. “And as for the challenger, he will be eliminated from Sky Academy.”
A wave of shock rippled through the spectators as they realized the hidden stakes. “Of course,” the Vice President continued, his voice cold, “if you challenge a GA for their position, you risk your place here as well. High stakes, as I said.”
The defeated student’s face was expressionless as he left the arena, fully aware of the consequences.
“Next, we have the 7th GA, Lipsy Nepuri,” the Vice President announced. Lipsy stepped forward, her gaze steely as she surveyed the crowd. But, as with those before her, no challengers came forward. “The 7th GA retains her position,” he declared, and Lipsy nodded, stepping back.
The announcements continued, each GA stepping forward, each one unchallenged. The tension grew with every name, with every hushed silence.
Finally, the Vice President announced the 12th GA. “Beatrix Fabia.”
Beatrix’s confident stride and fierce expression held the crowd’s attention, her presence commanding respect. The spectators fell silent, expecting her to go unchallenged. But then, a hand shot up from the crowd. Hiro, Kyren, and Zeeha gasped as they recognized the challenger. It was Sparoo, a student from their own section.
A chill ran down Zeeha’s spine as she glanced at her friends, worry etched across her face. Kyren’s gaze remained fixed on Sparoo, his thoughts racing. They barely knew anything about Sparoo’s skills, let alone enough to gauge his chances against Beatrix. The unknown loomed large, and as the Vice President called for the match to begin, they held their breath, waiting to see the outcome.