Ring—Ring—Ring!

  Someone was pounding and ringing at the door — that was what woke Toma up.

  I’m coming! I’m coming! Damn it, who could that be?

  When he opened the door, to his surprise, Arlen was standing there.

  “Toma, what the hell are you doing? It’s already four-thirty — the tournament has started!”

  “What!?”

  “Quick, Arlen, tell me what time it is!”

  “It just passed half past four in the afternoon! I already finished my match, that’s why I’m here.”

  “And did you win, Arlen?”

  “Yes, I did — but it was a tough one. My opponent was a second-year!”

  “Damn, I wish I could’ve seen it! But I overslept… I don’t have time to explain right now, but believe me, I got really exhausted this morning.”

  “No worries, just hurry up — if you don’t show up for your match, they’ll automatically disqualify you!”

  “But they can only play one match at a time, and there are lots of them. When is my turn?” Toma asked curiously.

  “Let’s see… mine was the second match, the student council president’s match was going on when I left, and after that it should be Lyrien’s — which I think is starting right about now. Then there’s Arvian’s, and after that comes yours, Toma.”

  “So I still have a bit of time to get ready. Give me fifteen minutes — come in and wait in my room, I’ll be in the bathroom!”

  “Alright, but hurry up!”

  ***

  Later, Toma and Arlen arrived at the locker room, where Toma changed into the academy’s sports uniform. While getting ready, he caught the final moments of Lyrien’s match on the locker room TV.

  “And the winner is… Lyrien Vandemire! The youngest and most charming member of the Vandemire family!” the commentator’s voice boomed from the speakers.

  Arlen let out a short laugh. “So, Lyrien took down a second-year too!”

  “Yeah, she’s strong — she just needs to believe in herself,” Toma replied while tying his shoes.

  “Are you all set?” Arlen asked as Toma zipped up his tracksuit.

  “Completely ready.”

  “Good. But Arvian’s match is still up next.”

  “Look, it’s starting right now!”

  Both of them turned toward the TV as the broadcast shifted to Arvian’s match. The commentator’s excitement filled the locker room:

  “Eric charges forward and looks ready to attack — but wait, what’s happening? Out of nowhere, Eric suddenly freezes into a massive block of ice! Arvian froze him solid with a single move! It seems Arvian’s ice power has an incredible range and precision for someone so young. And now the referee begins the countdown: ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… zero! The fastest possible victory! Arvian Lysell has knocked out his opponent in a single strike! Eric is being taken immediately to a heater unit. Arvian Lysell proves once again that he’s an incredible talent — truly the child of one of the greatest noble families!”

  Arlen’s eyes widened. “That was insane!”

  “I know that guy — Eric,” Toma said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I met him back in the desert.”

  Before they could discuss it further, the announcer’s voice returned with a name that instantly caught Toma’s attention.

  “The next match — Toma versus Peter!”

  Toma blinked. “Oh, that’s me.”

  Arlen grinned and held out his hand. “Good luck, man!”

  Toma returned the high-five and left for the arena. The moment he stepped out, a thunderous roar of the crowd surrounded him. For a brief second, he froze — the sea of faces stretched in every direction, every eye on him.

  The arena was massive — not quite the size of a football field, but still wide enough to feel like a battlefield. The commentator’s voice echoed again, introducing him to the crowd:

  “Toma Sorien, age sixteen, height one hundred seventy-six centimeters, Nova-type ability. One of the two students who helped defeat the massive demon attack on New Hale City, as well as saving countless passengers during the New Hale train derailment incident. I think Toma hardly needs an introduction — he’s been featured across the media multiple times.”

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  There was a short pause before the commentator continued.

  “His opponent is Peter. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find much information about him, but he’s also a first-year student like Toma — just from a different class.”

  When Toma stepped into the arena and faced his opponent, a sudden realization hit him — he knew that face.

  “I know you… we met back in the desert!”

  Peter smiled, relief flickering in his eyes. “Yes, Toma, it’s me! I wouldn’t have made it this far without your help.”

  Before Toma could answer, a bell-like chime echoed across the arena — sharp and metallic, signaling the start of the match.

  Peter hesitated, raising his hands slightly. “Listen, Toma, can’t we maybe talk this out?”

  But Toma didn’t waste a second. Instead of replying, his body blurred forward with explosive speed — not even at full power, yet fast enough to vanish from sight. To the untrained eye, it looked as if he had teleported straight in front of Peter. A heartbeat later, his spinning kick landed cleanly, and Peter collapsed instantly.

  The commentator’s voice thundered through the speakers:

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… zero! The winner is Toma Sorien! That was even faster than Arvian’s knockout! Toma’s starting off with incredible confidence!”

  Breathing lightly, Toma looked down at Peter. “Sorry, Peter… but I can’t fall behind Arvian,” he muttered under his breath.

  The arena erupted. A wave of cheers and applause crashed over him, thousands of voices chanting his name. The sound pulsed through his chest — thrilling, unreal. He’d never felt anything like it before.

  As he made his way back to the locker room, the energy of the crowd still buzzed in his ears. When he pushed open the door, his friends were waiting for him.

  “Congratulations, Toma!” Lyrien’s smile was bright and warm.

  Arvian folded his arms. “Did you oversleep again? How can you be late even for your own match?”

  Toma rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Yeah… I really did oversleep. Sorry I missed your matches, guys.”

  “It’s fine,” Lyrien said, waving it off. “Oh, and we already know who we’re up against tomorrow! Arvian’s opponent is someone named Joe.”

  Arvian glanced over. “Arlen, your opponent will be Lyrien.

  “Yes, I know and I’m nervous. My opponent’s got a water-type ability — not exactly ideal for me.”

  Lyrien’s tone softened. “Let’s both give it everything we’ve got, Arlen. What matters most is that we stay friends, no matter who wins.”

  Her gentle smile made Arlen’s face turn red. He stammered, “Y-yeah, definitely.”

  Arvian looked toward Toma. “Hey, Toma — want to watch their match together tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “Alright then. I’ll call you so we can meet up,” Arvian said as he grabbed his bag. “But for now, I’ve got something to take care of.”

  “I think I’ll head off too,” Lyrien added with a small stretch. “Today’s match was exhausting. I need to rest.”

  “Wait, then I’ll go with you guys!” Toma offered, catching up beside them.

  Arlen called out from behind, “Hey, is no one staying to watch the rest of the matches? Lyrien, fine, you’re tired — but Toma, Arvian, your fights lasted a few seconds!”

  Arvian shrugged. “I don’t care about watching a bunch of losers.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” Toma admitted.

  “Well, suit yourselves. I’ll stay and watch,” Arlen said, sitting back down.

  The three of them — Lyrien, Arvian, and Toma — left together, the late-afternoon light spilling over the academy grounds as they walked.

  “I feel bad that Arlen has to fight me,” Lyrien murmured. “He’s such a nice guy.”

  “That’s how tournaments work,” Arvian replied. “I’m already ready for the chance I’ll face one of you in the finals.”

  “Yeah,” Toma added. “What matters is that we give it our all. Arlen wouldn’t want you to go easy on him anyway.”

  Lyrien nodded, her smile soft but determined. “You’re right. I’ll make it a great match — and enjoy every moment of it.”

  When they reached the crossroads, Lyrien waved goodbye and turned toward the girls’ dormitory, her long hair catching the sunlight as she walked away. Toma and Arvian kept going straight, side by side.

  “So,” Toma began, hands tucked into his pockets, “who do you think will win tomorrow?”

  Arvian didn’t hesitate. “Me.”

  Toma groaned. “No, you idiot! I meant between Lyrien and Arlen!”

  A small grin tugged at Arvian’s lips. “I know. I was just messing with you. But honestly? It’s hard to tell. Lyrien’s got the advantage with her water ability, but Arlen’s faster. If he uses his speed right, he might actually pull it off.”

  “Yeah,” Toma nodded thoughtfully. “That’s what I think too.”

  ***

  The next morning, Toma’s phone buzzed unexpectedly. He answered, still half-asleep. “Hello? Mom?”

  “Good morning, Toma! Guess what?” came Demia’s cheerful voice. “Emion, your little sister, and I came here to watch your matches live! We booked a hotel and we’ll be staying for the whole week! I’ll text you the address — come have lunch with us!”

  Toma blinked, suddenly wide awake. “Wait, seriously? That’s awesome! Of course, I’ll come for lunch!”

  Later that day, Toma arrived at the hotel. The lobby smelled faintly of coffee and polished marble. He spotted his family right away — his mother waving from a table, Emion sitting beside her, and little Nira practically bouncing with excitement.

  “I still don’t get it,” Toma said as he sat down. “Why’d you all come here for the whole week?”

  Demia smiled, eyes sparkling. “Because it’s not every day we get to see you fight in the academy tournament!”

  He turned toward Emion. “But didn’t you say you had important work this week?”

  “I did,” Emion replied with a light laugh, “but I managed to rearrange things so I can start next week instead.”

  “That’s great news,” Toma said, smiling.

  Before he could say more, Nira leaned across the table, eyes shining. “Toma big bro! We saw you on TV yesterday — you were sooo cool!”

  Toma chuckled, pretending to flip his hair. “I know, right? I was awesome.”

  Just then, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen. “Arvian’s calling.” He answered. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Hey Toma, when should we head out to Lyrien and Arlen’s match?” Arvian’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Wait, I’m not at the dorm right now. I’ll go back first and call you when I’m ready.”

  “Got it,” Arvian replied.

  Toma hung up and stood, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Sorry, Mom, but I’ve gotta go. Two of my friends — Lyrien and Arlen — are fighting today, and I promised Arvian I’d watch it with him.”

  Demia waved him off gently. “Go on, honey. Don’t worry about us.”

  “Thanks for the lunch!” Toma said, flashing her a grin before dashing out the door.

  By the time Toma and Arvian reached the arena, the stands were already packed. They found their seats just a few minutes before the match began. The buzz of the crowd filled the air with electric anticipation.

  “Hey,” Toma said, leaning closer. “Do you know who my opponent is today? I forgot to check.”

  Arvian smirked. “That’s so typical of you. But from what I heard, your opponent’s someone named Vaen.”

  Toma groaned. “Damn it. Vaen, of all people!”

  “You know him?”

  “Yeah,” Toma muttered, crossing his arms. “He’s strong — which is fine, I like a good fight. But he’s also… well, kind of a jerk.”

  “I see,” Arvian said with a half-smile. “Anyway, pay attention — it’s about to start!”

  The crowd roared as the announcer’s voice echoed through the arena.

  “Whoa,” Toma murmured, leaning forward, eyes fixed on the arena floor. “This is it — Lyrien versus Arlen. I can’t wait to see who’s going to win.”