Dodge, dodge, jump- shit!

You have received 142 damage.

“Wait, wait- time-out!” Zachary breathlessly called out, bending desperately to avoid another thrown fist aimed at his face. Punch, kick, swing, punch, swing, swing; he was being overwhelmed with no room to strike back. All the spells in the Class System could only be casted after a command and subsequent accumulation of mana in the air imposed their will onto the element that the mage wanted to affect.

But in this situation? With an enraged brawler right on top of you, mercilessly smacking you from all angles? It was all Zachary could do to keep too many blows from landing. A completely one-sided beatdown.

This was the classic problem with specialising into disciplines of wizardry and sorcery; your weakness were those that blatantly disregarded your personal space and gave you zero chance to chant spells to defend yourself. The denizens of this world had obviously figured out this glaring vulnerability, which was why the students of Orth Academy trained daily to improve their physical fitness in conjunction with their magical prowess.

Still; wasn’t much help when the one you were fighting was doing so under the influence of a magical strength infusion.

“Look, let’s talk things out-”

You have received 156 damage.

The plea went unheard, and Zachary paid for the momentary lapse in focus with a crushing blow to the ribs. He exhaled sharply, an ominous crunching resounding as more pain shot through his body, countless black dots filling his vision.

Can’t… let him keep this up! G-got to… have to break his momentum…!

“You’re not going to choose?” Po Dan sneered, yet another powerful kick launched at Ting Ren’s side. He watched the so-called boy genius block it with his right arm and wince as the shockwave from the hit rippled through his body. “Then I’ll pick for you.”

You have dealt 170 damage.

Crack – and Ting Ren let out a pained gasp, almost a whimper. Po Dan had struck his right arm at the same spot Ting Ren had blocked with before, this time with greater precision, rendering the arm incapacitated.

Haughty eyes looked down onto the wheezing prodigy. For once in all his time at Orth, it was him that was in full control – Po Dan! Not Ting Ren; not that undeserving prick!

Po Dan smirked at this pleasing thought, committing this glorious sight before his eyes into his long-term memory. How good it felt, to finally get to take out all his hatred on the person in question!

Of course, this fight wouldn’t last forever; as they said, all good things had to end eventually. After this, he’d probably be reprimanded for going all out on a recovering patient, perhaps suspended for a week or two. And Cure Wounds would fix any damage that he’d inflicted on Ting Ren’s limbs, save for appendages chopped clean off.

Po Dan wouldn’t have gone to the extent of dismemberment, not even for his ever-smouldering jealousy; he still had to consider his own future as a promising student that would one day be a member of the Order of Glint.

But just for this shining moment… he could soak in the satisfaction of having surpassed the one labelled by Orth Academy as the best student. And the indelible mark of mental trauma this exchange would leave on Ting Ren’s mind, tainting his every action from now on- well, that was just the cherry on top.

“Come on,” Po Dan taunted, throwing a cocky left swing in Ting Ren’s direction which narrowly grazed his uniform. “This is pathetic. Fight back. Aren’t you supposed to be the best student in Orth?”

Zachary stared weakly back at Po Dan’s silhouette through blurry, half-shut eyes, the pain coursing through his body preventing him from thinking clearly. Right arm had long gone dead from the thorough tenderizing performed on it. There were at least a few cracked ribs, and his breathing was in disarray.

It had been a long time anyone had pushed him this far; there was always a trick or plan in the wings, with every hit he’d received being for some purpose, to advance his own strategy.

Not this time – this time, he was being trounced by some brat who’d barely even lived out a quarter of his expected lifespan, for some grudge he wasn’t even responsible for.

Have to… at least… think…

Zachary mustered up the remaining strength left in his body and forced it into his left arm, just barely forming a fist, which he shakily raised. Po Dan laughed cruelly at this pitiful sight. Really? Was Ting Ren expecting that to work? His Status was currently amplified six fold by Existence: Extension; his magic ability temporarily converted into pure, raw power.

How was a puny, unboosted fist going to harm him?

“Ha…! You’re going to hit me?” His grin widened. “Don’t whine about me being a bully; I’ll be a sport. Go ahead and strike me wherever you want.”

That wasn’t what Zachary was doing, though.

“S-stone… Box: Class… three…”

Too late Po Dan noticed what Zachary was doing. As he kicked off the ground, flying through the air to interrupt the spell, Zachary slammed his fist into the ground, ordering the ground to obey his will. Po Dan’s strike landed not on flesh and blood, but a sturdy stone wall instead, fracturing the surface.

“Just obediently accept the loss, Ting Ren,” Po Dan called out in annoyance, powerfully kicking the wall he’d struck. The spider-web of cracks deepened, the wall’s integrity quickly eaten away by the two blows it had received. “This is what’s been long coming to you; you stuck-up scholar.”

Inside the stone encasement, Zachary hurriedly caught his breath, sucking in quick, short inhales of oxygen, frantically trying to come up with a counter-measure.

The Class Three was a last resort, a desperate attempt at taking back some measure of control. Now he was out of mana. Not completely, mind you; just out of enough mana for him to potentially overturn the hopeless situation.

The stone wall in front of him shuddered, rock dust sent billowing into the air. Zachary grit his teeth. At most, the hastily erected barrier could withstand another two or three hits. Zachary didn’t have much time left to formulate his plan.

If only… if only he could fight Po Dan on equal ground-!

No… wait.

No, he didn’t have to fight him on equal ground.

“Profile Swap.” The grey complexion of his Life Model form quickly overtook the pale white of Ting Ren’s body. Instantly, the stabbing pain covering his entire body vanished like it was never there. He could think clearly again. Zachary rubbed his right arm in annoyance, echoes of pain still radiating from the site of the blows he’d received. Damned kid.

First, the preparation.

“Turquoise Centipede. Rainbow Chameleon.”

A set of extra arms formed from Zachary’s back, then quickly blended into the background of the dark stone confinement. He watched on as the grey tone of his current body’s flesh shifted back into the deathly white of Ting Ren’s skin, and proceeded to further morph to mimic the colour of the surroundings, Life Model cells following his commands to a T.

Active camouflage, complete.

Zachary flexed the arms on his back experimentally, opening and closing the palms of his accessory arms to make sure they were fully functional. Of course they were; Bio Control did good work, no matter who's hand it was in.

It did the best work in Zachary's hands, though.

The stone barrier in front of him cracked more with another impact from Po Dan, pieces of loose rubble already falling away to let beams of light shine in. The student was obviously drunk on the meagre scrap of power he’d chanced upon, eager to flaunt it by defeating someone he was in a quarrel with.

Yes, Zachary was mature enough to admit it; he’d let his guard down yet again. For all the caution he had for Mask wielders, never in his wildest dreams would a simple trainee have caused him this much trouble.

But this time… he was ready.

Fine, Po Dan. You want to fight dirty?

Let’s fight dirty.

~

“Ha-!” Po Dan crowed triumphantly as he sent the final blow into the fractured stone wall, splintering it into chunks. “Got you, Ting Ren!”

He swiped inside roughly, ready to drag out and pummel his nemesis for the extra effort he’d caused him – only to find that the box was impossibly, empty. He stared at the inside of the impromptu rock casing, confused by the inexplicable sight.

“where…?”

Then, out of nowhere…

You have received 120 damage.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

There!

A solid blow was delivered to the back of his head, but Po Dan didn’t care; he let his reflexes do the work, already sending out a heavy swing with his right arm towards the direction of the hit, firmly connecting with-

nothing-?

You have received 134 damage.

This time his back took the punch, causing him to grunt in irritation. His left arm flew out – and hit nothing but air once more.

This is... not possible…!

“What are you doing, Po Dan?” He spun around at the sound of Ting Ren’s condescending drawl. “Weren’t you going to break my arm?”

You have received 123 damage.

Po Dan felt a strike impact his chest, and looked up in frustration, already knowing what he would find – empty space.

“Or was it my leg? Help me recall.”

Po Dan’s agitation grew, thoughts flitting back to every time he’d been beaten without a chance of retaliation by the very same Ting Ren.

How?! How is he doing this again?!

You have received 130 damage.

“GRAAGH!” Po Dan furiously punched, kicked and smashed, dents and craters beaten into the ground as he mindlessly swung out, all rational thought abandoned. If Ting Ren was hitting him, then he had to be in range! It didn’t matter if he was invisible if he couldn’t come any-

You have received 158 damage.

An insulting punch had been thrown right at Po Dan’s jaw – right at his jaw! – and he saw nothing. Not even a glimpse of Ting Ren. Po Dan crouched down in exhaustion, huffing as he glared out into the grounds where his fellow classmates were still throwing about tiny bolts of Class Ones and Twos, eyes shifting constantly to catch sight of his opponent.

He was forced to listen as Zachary taunted and ridiculed him just as Ting Ren had once done before, back when the boy still had his memories.

“Look at you, Po Dan – you resorted to powerful magic from outside of school curriculum, you picked a fight with an amnesiac who’d just picked up a magic system, which frankly, you should have long mastered, and you gave yourself every advantage-”

Zachary twisted the dagger.

“And you still lost.”

With that very last jab, Po Dan couldn’t stand it anymore. He bared his teeth in anger, rage swirling and filling his vision with red. The accumulated injuries from Zachary’s Life Model arms were immediately the last thing on his mind.

Him; lose?

Again?

To Ting Ren – to someone who was effectively a novice, barely familiar with the intricacies of the Class System spells, but managing to overpower a physical-oriented fighter, the natural enemy of sorcerers and mages? A fighter that was entirely controlled by Po Dan?

No.

No, no, no – NO!

Power; I just need more power! Then he’ll be finished-!

Po Dan gripped his left arm with his right hand once more, raising it up into the air. He’d been warned about this, urged to be cautious with this next progression in the Existence spell line. He had been judged to have too weak a mana pool to invoke the advanced version by the one who had passed him this spell, told in clear terms to only stick to Extension.

But his mind, clouded with anger, no longer cared. This was what would give him more power, enough to defeat Ting Ren. Enough to grind him beneath his heel, crush him!

“Existence: Rebirth!”

The purple glow in Po Dan’s eyes faded, runes slithering out from the corners and dissipating as they made their way back towards his left arm. This time, twisted scratches of crimson soaked through the skin of his left arm, as if a vicious beast had left its marks where it had struck. Like the first time Po Dan had invoked the Existence spell, they quickly began to move, leaving trails of black as the red symbols started the journey towards his head.

But this time-

“Ah, ah- AIEEEEEEE!” Po Dan shrieked as he tore at his uniform, ripping it to shreds with wild swipes. Anger was quickly replaced by pain and fear as his fingernails dug into his chest, desperately trying to rid the burning agony that was now circulating there.

This wasn’t like the first time – the first time hadn’t hurt like this!

With his uniform left in tatters on the ground, one could see that the red strokes hadn’t completed the full trip as were expected of them. Instead, they now gathered around Po Dan’s chest, circling around what one could assume was his heart, blackened tracks growing larger as they completed ring after ring.

“Rainbow Chameleon,” Zachary whispered, allowing the disguise concealing him from sight to fade away as he watched Po Dan writhe in pain on the ground. That had been an unexpected development – he thought it’d be like a second phase in a boss fight where the boss would switch up his attack patterns or something, not fancy self-immolation.

He turned to look over at the teacher, to see if they had noticed the commotion; and found that every other student in class had stopped their sparring the second Po Dan had wailed out, and were now staring wide-eyed at Po Dan, reduced to a mewling mess; and at Zachary, completely fine.

Ah, crap.

~

“You’re saying… he self-destructed?” the Headmaster replied quizzically, eyebrow arched. “In a sparring session… under a teacher's supervision… where the two of you were simply to exchange a series of Class Ones and Twos? He self-destructed under those conditions?”

“Oh, um, yeah. He said something about wanting to try something new, and since I'm new here, I let him do it. Then he did some other stuff that I didn’t recognise as part of the curriculum. Beats me why he suddenly collapsed and screamed like that. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

It's not like I'm lying; wasn’t like I forced him to do it. Blame him for wanting to beat up the previous owner of this body so badly.

“Hmm.” The Headmaster maintained eye contact, stern visage intact. For a moment, Zachary thought he might mete out some harsh punishment to correct what sounded like a flippant lie from a prideful student. It would be a small impediment; he could always sneak out of any imposed curfew or confinement. But the Headmaster did no such thing, despite all evidence pointing to Zachary having meddled in the outcome.

“Let’s leave it at that, then. Young Po Dan did utilise unsanctioned magic, after all. Ohana will be happy to have someone to talk to again.”

The old man inscribed his signature at the bottom of the page in cursive script, and returned the page to the other sheets.

“If there isn’t anything else, you may leave, young Ting Ren.”

“Ah- yes, of course, Headmaster! I’ll take my leave immediately. Thank you.”

“But,” the elder stopped Zachary as he stood up to leave. “Do try not to do this again. I understand that you may be anxious to regain your previous mastery in the usage of the Class System, but moderation is key. Alright?”

“Yep, mhm; right. Moderation. Got it.”

With a quick bow to show respect, Zachary quickly exited the room.

Well, that went well. For what was effectively attempted murder, I was let off surprisingly easy. ‘Course, there weren’t anyone that could give a full account of the fight, so maybe that’s why. And it looked like the spell that Po Dan casted at the end there might have left some permanent damage on his constitution, what with all those burn marks and streaks of red.

Oh well, maybe the Headmaster’s going senile in his old age. I’ll take it.

~

Headmaster An Shen watched closely on as Ting Ren left his office. All throughout the lengthy conversation he’d trained his watchful eyes on every aspect of the boy, paying close attention to his actions, his posture, his gait. He was looking for any telltale signs of deception, any signs of a liar.

Anything that might have contradicted his current condition as an amnesiac student.

For what it was worth, he had found nothing of the sort in this short stretch of observation. Nothing that would suggest that Ting Ren remembered what happened at Witch’s Plateau - although he would have to monitor it further to be absolutely sure.

He doesn’t remember. And if he does, he’s hiding it exceedingly well – very much unlike the boy’s headstrong personality. If he had regained some portion of his memory, he would have confronted me right that instant, mastery of Class System or not. No, An Shen; don’t doubt yourself. A Class Five Psychic Shock is enough to wipe the mind of any human being, especially without a proper defense.

The plan lives.

With a grim determination, Headmaster An Shen gazed out the window of his office. It was situated on the top floor of Orth Academy, which itself had been built almost near the highest point within the Glint Peninsula. The view which he witnessed on a daily basis was a breath-taking one, the multi-coloured rooftops and citizens milling about like ants reminding him what he did all this for.

His beloved Glint. His beloved Orth. This beloved world.

His fist slowly clenched in conviction. Nothing would stand in his way, not if they intended to stop him from doing what he was intending.

For the good of Orth; for the good of Glint.

“I will not fail.”