45th of Season of Air, 80th year of the 32nd cycle

  Newt was not tall by any means, but he never considered himself short either. That changed when the black giant stepped forth to meet him. The man loomed, easily seven feet tall, maybe more, and Newt didn’t doubt for a moment that the one facing him was a man. He did not believe a woman could have shoulders as broad, arms as thick, or chest as packed with muscles.

  He clenched his glaive tight, his eyes lingering on a maul, which the giant held like a hammer. When the secret realm’s master gave the mark, Newt circulated his mana, employing several techniques at once, following the existing traces he had spent years burning throughout his body. Against a black-rated opponent, Newt didn’t dare conserve too much energy.

  Granite Crust closed over him even as Magmin Scales shimmered across his skin. A bolt of fire flew at the giant’s face, a spike of earth springing from the ground behind him, stabbing at his back.

  An arm-thick stream of lightning surged past Newt’s flames and slammed into his chest. Magmin Scales devoured the heat, and Granite Crust absorbed most of the impact, yet the blow staggered him a step back. Had Newt’s body been at the fourth realm, the technique would have knocked him down or sent him tumbling.

  As the giant smashed the fiery orb in an explosion of heat, the earthen spike stabbed into his lower back. The man reeled in pain, and Newt pounced, piercing his chest with his emerald glaive.

  The black giant disappeared, leaving behind Newt, whose heart was bashing against his ribs.

  Lightning - air and fire. Fast, powerful, but fragile.

  Newt considered himself tough. Yet, while his earthen shield had stopped most of the lightning’s force and Newt’s fiery defenses burned away the heat before it reached him, there was no denying the power of the attack nor the damage it had done. Any of his brothers and sisters would have been obliterated by the lightning’s raw force.

  Em might have endured it. He decided after a moment’s thought.

  Around him, all was quiet. Ever since the event had started, there had been no sound from the opponents, even though Newt knew Dandelion must have said a bunch of things when he saw him. The moment’s lull stretched, laden with shock and realization.

  Finally, the second black shade, this one more normally sized, left the silent rainbow of phantoms and approached Newt. Newt glanced at who was left — two dark red, five regular reds, and the rest were red bordering orange or orange bordering red. Based on the numbers alone, Newt knew he faced one of the royal families, and without him, the black giant would have pulverized his group with no need for reinforcements.

  Newt observed his new opponent; their weapon was a spiked chain, at least twenty feet long. The black figure was lean, a head shorter than the giant Newt faced first, but still tall, their gait grim and determined.

  Newt considered how he should fight. Relying on physical might against the giant seemed foolhardy, so he relied on techniques, but it came at a high mana cost. His new opponent should expect Newt to wield double elements to attack him, which suited New just fine. He could use that knowledge to make his victory cheaper.

  “Fight,” the female voice said, and mana flooded Newt’s body. While his defenses formed, protecting his ears first, he unleashed an evolved Confuse Senses and charged. The blast stunned Newt’s opponent, and the spear skewered his heart before he disappeared without making a move.

  Newt struck the butt end of his spear into the arena’s sandy floor and turned towards the remaining opponents. He could only hope his pose and black figure were menacing enough to send a wave of fear.

  ***

  “Did you see that, ladies and gentlemen! Who would have thought a lone student from a force such as Explorer’s Gate could defeat the entire royal team?”

  “Well, Hardy, Explorer’s Gate did get an imperial commendation just a couple years ago. It is certain they have invested their rewards in students who had proved themselves worthy during their tribulation.”

  Woodhopper listened to random low-realm entertainers slandering her order. Right then, she wanted nothing more than for the two to appear next to her, so she could smash the expensive ceramic teapot against their heads.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “Control yourself, child. The teapot is innocent.” Woodhopper jerked, wondering how Gatemaster Greenthorn could read her thoughts, then realized she was clutching the teapot.

  “I know you would like to bash their heads, but what you are hearing are empty words spoken by those with emptier heads. They know not of your loss, of all our loss. They live half a world away, in a city free of troubles. And yet, ages ago, when the imperials forced this city’s powerhouses and their allies to commit suicide, our ancestors knew nothing and cared little about random deaths half a world away.”

  The gatemaster took a sip of tea, and his lip twitched in mild disgust.

  “Is the tea not to your liking, Gatemaster?” Woodhopper found it an excellent brew. Overpriced for certain, but palatable and refreshing.

  “A soulless creation, but the leaves are fine. I will purchase some before we leave this establishment. Tell me, what do you think of Newstar?”

  “I think he will reach the end. Six royal families are still in play on the higher floors, and the next round will be a carnage amongst them. How long do you think Dandelion can hold out?”

  “I’m hoping he will hold out until the end.” The Gatemaster smiled. “I bet good money on him winning this stage.”

  Woodhopper gaped at her leader with wide-open eyes.

  “I made four bets. That we would win, that we would place second, that Dandelion would win, and that Dandelion would place second. If one of these comes true, in the worst-case scenario, I’m getting six times my investment back.” His smile grew wider. “You know what beast tamers say? Never place all your eggs in one basket.”

  ***

  After eliminating his opponents, Newt wouldn’t call himself exactly tired, but he had expended about a fifth of his mana. The rules forbade pausing for rest and meditation, since managing mana was also a part of the trial.

  For the first time in a long while, Newt’s unique first realm and the side vents dotting his third and fourth realms brought a tangible benefit. Unlike all other participants, he could recover mana while walking. The only other exception to the rule was Dandelion.

  He only has to fight two opponents each time to pass, while I just fought ten of his rounds’ worth of enemies. Newt considered the thought and found it unfair. Five rounds. He faces only the strongest, while I got the stragglers too.

  Five forks later, they entered another combat-chamber. Inside awaited three combatants, a red and two orange-reds.

  A trivial round for Newt, but the rules forced him to sit it out.

  Rexheart stepped forward, and Newt considered how good it would be for him to drag out the battles as long as possible.

  The best result of this battle would be for Rex to eliminate the first two and then for the remaining one to eliminate everyone from my team. That way, I could always fight, and I would only need two victories to win a match.

  Newt suddenly realized that those fighting alone were having an easier time than him. He was almost certain of it when he realized that those fighting alone couldn’t recover energy while walking or fighting. Even the strongest combatant had to expend a bit of mana for each victory, and sooner or later they would tire out.

  While Newt considered the fairness of the event format, Rex defeated his first opponent. By the time he defeated the third, he had spent half his mana reserve. The man returned to the group as if nothing was amiss, but then an odd thing happened.

  Instead of four, only three passages appeared, both leading up.

  Newt picked left, and after a hundred feet they entered another battle room. The opponents had seven members, a black, three deep reds, and three yellowish-orange.

  Newt stepped forth, but, surprisingly, a red came at him first. The battle started, and the person charged Newt. The attack was void of techniques, and they disappeared after Newt impaled them with his glaive.

  Then came the three yellowish-orange contestants, none of which worth spending a speck of mana. Finally, after Newt dispatched the four surprisingly weak students, the black silhouette approached.

  Newt considered his enemy’s strategy. They didn’t send the previous four to tire him out; that or they underestimated him severely. No, he concluded, they had gotten rid of the burden. Students too weak to contribute, their mana mostly spent.

  The matron signaled the start of the fight, but neither of the opponents moved. Newt examined the sword-wielder, and the sword-wielder awaited him to make the first move. The sword was a single-handed blade, with a grip large enough for the wielder to fight two handed should they wish it. The blade was slim, long, and deadly.

  Newt took a step forward, and his opponent twisted their legs against the grains of sand on the floor, seeking better purchase.

  Not an earth mageknight, Newt concluded immediately, frustrated because the Sage’s Realm blocked his mindcore and rendered it mostly useless. How much mana do they have remaining? How much of this is posturing and bluffing, and how much is real?

  If the enemy was full, Newt would have to press for a quick battle, to conserve his own mana instead of competing in the amount they each had in their reserves. If the enemy was empty, or near empty, it was in his interest to drag out the battle.

  They are down here, meaning they lost, and I doubt they conserved their energy all that much with the prospect of losing. Newt poked at the enemy from outside their reach, two steps too far to land a blow. The move was not meant to challenge civilized people, but goad an animal. I’ll let you advance and take the risks.