The arena was vast—towering cliffs on one side, a winding forest on the other, and an open battlefield in the center. This was the First Elimination Round: survival against three other teams in a free-for-all. Only one class would advance.
Han Li sat high in the instructor's gallery, sipping tea. "Let the lambs prove their fangs," he murmured.
A gong resounded. The match began.
Yue Qian darted forward, her wind blades forming a shield around her. Long Wu covered her flank, using his stone fists to deflect attacks. Bai Zheng, though shaking, followed orders to the letter—maintaining barriers with surprising precision.
Lin Yan and Mo Xue stayed behind, eyes locked onto the forest. "Movement," Lin whispered. "Nine o'clock. Archers."
Mo Xue grinned. "I'll deal with them."
With a flick of her hand, shadowy threads emerged from her fingers, wrapping around trees and yanking her through the air. Within seconds, screams echoed as arrows stopped mid-air—caught, reversed, and embedded in their wielders.
In the stands, noble families leaned forward.
"Was that… Blood Thread Technique?" one elder whispered.
"But that's forbidden…"
"Wrong," Han Li muttered, sipping again. "That's mine."
Back on the field, Yue Qian faced a dual-saber user from Class A. Their weapons clashed in a blur—until Long Wu tackled the enemy from behind, slamming him into the earth.
"Nice timing," Yue grunted.
"Told you. Earth beats wind," Long smirked.
After ten grueling minutes, only Class D stood—bloodied but undefeated.
Cheers never came.
Just stunned silence.
Han Li rose slowly. "Now," he said, eyes glowing faintly, "they'll stop calling you rejects."