Morning — Day 2 Duels: Enter the Prodigies
"Alright," Ren said, slurping something violently purple from a thermos labeled Definitely Not Illegal.
"Time to watch the living nukes flex their midlife crises."
The Drakensoul Arena buzzed like a hive of unstable mana.
Students packed the stands, their chatter vibrating through the colossal space.
Above us, elemental banners floated—blazing gold for fire, deep azure for frost, crackling violet for storm—shifting with the tension thickening the air.
I tugged my battered cloak tighter, shrinking into the bench.
"Special exhibition matches?" I muttered.
Evan stood nearby, arms crossed, silver eyes narrowed.
"To set expectations," he said flatly.
"Expectations?" I clutched my notebook like a holy relic.
"That we're replaceable," Evan replied, voice calm as a falling sword.
Ren shrugged. "I already assumed I was cannon fodder. This just makes it official."
The arena rumbled.
Mana surged underfoot.
A voice thundered across the stands:
"BEGIN!"
First Match — Seris Vellune: The Frost Queen
Seris Vellune, the Frostbrand Prodigy herself, glided into the ring.
Her steps barely disturbed the frozen glyphs blooming beneath her feet, silver-blue hair braided into a battle-ready crown.
She was elegance sharpened into a weapon.
Her opponent, a bulky Pyrestone initiate, cracked his knuckles—fire flaring eagerly between his fingers.
Poor guy looked confident.
Wrong move.
The moment the match began, Seris lifted one slender hand.
The arena's temperature plunged. Frost raced across the stone, weaving a deadly lattice beneath her opponent's feet.
He lunged—fire blooming—but the ice shifted, treacherous.
He slipped mid-cast, flames sputtering into useless sparks.
Before he could recover, crystalline threads coiled around his wrists and ankles, freezing his mana mid-flow.
He toppled—paralyzed.
Match over.
[ Adaptive Insight Activated. ]
[ Analysis: Sub-zero Mana Pathway Disruption - Frost Lock Formation. ]
I blinked. Had she even moved?
Ren leaned close, whispering like he was witnessing a crime scene.
"Bro. She could correct your spell posture and your life choices before you blink."
"I don't want to die confused," I muttered.
Evan gave a rare nod. "Tactical perfection."
Seris bowed once, unbothered by the roaring crowd, and left the stage like a queen who had simply allowed herself to win.
Second Match — Rhydan Vex: The Living Tempest
Next up: Rhydan Vex.
The air itself rippled as he entered the ring, sparks leaping from his skin.
His opponent—a wiry air mage—visibly paled but stayed rooted.
"BEGIN!"
BOOM.
Rhydan didn't walk—he exploded forward.
His fist collided with his opponent's hastily conjured wind shield, shattering it like brittle glass.
He pivoted sharply, momentum stacking with every movement.
A second strike. A third.
Each blow faster, heavier, fueled by the storm crackling under his skin.
[ Adaptive Insight Activated. ]
[ Analysis: Lightning Overload Combat Style – Shockstep Acceleration. ]
Rhydan wasn't just fast.
He was building velocity, using the recoil of each attack to launch the next.
The air mage scrambled, desperate, managing to blast a gust that staggered Rhydan for half a heartbeat.
Bad idea.
Rhydan grinned—a wolf's grin—and retaliated with a spinning uppercut that detonated a thunderclap powerful enough to rattle the arena stands.
The air mage hit the ground in a twitching heap.
Ren clutched my shoulder. "Bro. If he sneezes, a city block dies."
Evan's eyes sharpened. "He'd dominate a mid-level battlefield. Alone."
"New goal," I said hoarsely. "Never, ever duel Rhydan."
Trio Banter Between Matches
While the arena workers hastily repaired the cracked floor, Ren leaned in, conspiratorial.
"Okay, squad. Strategy meeting. If we ever face these lunatics?"
"Run," I suggested.
"Hide," Evan added, deadpan.
Ren snapped his fingers. "Pretend to be furniture. Nobody kills furniture."
We all nodded solemnly.
"We're gonna die, aren't we," I muttered.
"Probably," Ren chirped.
Third Match — Lira Noctharis: Queen of Shadows
And then, the scariest prodigy stepped forward.
Lira Noctharis.
She moved like liquid shadow, her black cloak swirling, violet eyes gleaming faintly.
Her opponent, a cocky storm mage, smirked—until he didn't.
"BEGIN!"
The storm mage hurled twin spears of wind—
And Lira splintered.
Three. Five. Nine copies of her shimmered into existence, each as real and deadly as the last.
I activated Adaptive Insight—
[ Error: Presence Concealed Beyond Current Skill Tier. ]
—and almost threw up.
I couldn't tell which was real.
None of them felt real.
The storm mage panicked, launching blasts at illusions while real tendrils of shadowflame crept underfoot—wrapping around his ankles, draining the mana straight out of him.
Within seconds, he collapsed, shuddering.
Lira bowed once, mist swirling around her form, and vanished like a ghost.
Ren wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead.
"Plan updated. If we fight her—immediate surrender and compliments."
"Agreed," I croaked.
Even Evan looked wary. "Realspace illusion merging. Top-tier deception."
Ren brightened. "Maybe we can fake our deaths ahead of time?"
For once, I almost considered it.
Midday — Dorm Chaos: Recovery Mode
Back at the dorm, Ren flopped face-first onto his bed like a defeated manatee.
"I'm emotionally constipated," he declared. "I need tea. And therapy."
Evan calmly polished his sword without looking up.
"You could also train."
"Sir, this is a dormitory, not a war crime tribunal," Ren shot back.
I tossed him a mana bar.
"Eat. Survive. Don't combust."
Ren raised it like a sacred relic. "Our battle hymn."
Afternoon — Brewing Rumors
Lunch was... uncomfortable.
The cafeteria buzzed with rumors, ugly and hungry.
"Special Admission — they say he's a human experiment."
"Part of the Catalyst Project. Forbidden bloodline."
"He's not even a real dragon."
I tried sipping my whispering soup casually, but my hands shook enough to splash broth onto the table.
"Smile mysteriously," Ren whispered, sliding closer. "Project 'Unbothered and Unapologetic' is a go."
Evan, sitting apart, scanned the cafeteria like a war mage expecting an ambush.
"They're afraid," he said quietly. "Fear makes people reckless."
"Great," I muttered. "Maybe they'll start throwing mana grenades before dessert."
"Or soup," Ren said brightly. "Weaponized soup is still on the table."
Across the cafeteria, Kael Dravion caught my eye—and smirked.
Next to him, Seris didn't smile.
She just watched.
Neither did I.
Nightfall — The Summons
Back at the dorm, my bed was waiting.
So was a letter.
A black envelope, pinned neatly to my pillow by a silver mana seal.
My pulse spiked.
I peeled it open.
"To Han Jihoon,
You are summoned to the Gathering of Resonants.
Midnight. The Obsidian Spire.
Come alone."
No signature. No explanation.
Just an order.
Ren, noticing my frozen expression, sat up. "You good, bro?"
"Yeah," I lied, tucking the letter deep into my cloak.
Something ancient buzzed at the base of my skull.
At 11:45 PM, under the blood-red sky, I slipped from the dorm.
Ren snored peacefully, tangled in a mana-charged blanket.
Evan... was awake.
He met my gaze across the room.
Said nothing.
Just nodded—once, silently—as if he understood.
Outside, the streets were quiet, bathed in faint violet glow from floating mana lanterns.
Ahead, the Obsidian Spire loomed—stabbing the sky like a black sword, its edges humming with power.
Every step closer, the air grew heavier.
Each breath felt like inhaling the weight of old wars and forgotten kings.
The Spire was awake.
And waiting.
For me.
📜 To be continued in Chapter 9 — Whispers in the Spire...
📚 Author's Note — New Chaos Level Unlocked:
Day 2 recap:
Watched god-tier prodigies destroy hope ✔️Survived whispering soup ✔️Accepted an obviously cursed invitation ✔️
✨ Question Time:
What is the "Gathering of Resonants" really?
A) Secret cult trying to awaken Jihoon's hidden bloodline
B) Underground rebel faction recruitment
C) Literal ancient dragons testing new hybrids
D) 100% a trap. Pancakes will not save you.
Drop your chaos theories below! ⬇️
And remember — never trust a black envelope. Especially if it's polite about it.