Lyra shifted on his shoulder, chirping anxiously. Alex reached up and brushed a gentle hand over her head.
"It's alright," he murmured softly. "Stay in the Mystic Space for now. I'll call you if I need you."
She tilted her tiny head, clearly reluctant, her golden feathers fluffing slightly in protest. But after a quiet chirp of understanding, she dissolved into light, returning to the Mystic Space—leaving behind only a faint shimmer in the air where she'd been.
Alex exhaled deeply, the silence of the ring wrapping around him. When he looked up, Darin Vale was already waiting at the opposite end.
Darin was lean, sharp-eyed, and carried an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. Sparks of electricity crackled faintly around his right arm as he rolled his shoulder, a faint grin playing at his lips.
"So you're my opponent," Darin said, his voice smooth but edged with amusement. "You may have gotten lucky with a mutated chicken, but my thunder is superior to yours."
Alex said nothing, his hand resting calmly on the hilt of his blade.
He already knew about Darin's Mystic Beast—it was a Peak Uncommon-rank Thunder-Spiked Lizard, a lightning-type creature known for its speed and deadly precision. It could fire razor-sharp lightning spikes from its back at near-supersonic velocity, and Darin himself got those thunder spikes as his first ability from his partner, making him a powerful opponent.
Darin chuckled when Alex didn't respond. "You might be ranked second, but one-on-one, rank doesn't decide everything. Before the new ranking system, I was seventh in the academy." He drew a long, thin sword from his side, its edge humming faintly with electric energy. "Ready when you are."
Alex tightened his grip on his weapon—his steel short sword gleaming faintly as mana began to gather around it. His eyes sharpened, his calm expression settling into quiet focus.
At the edge of the barrier, the instructor raised a hand, his voice cutting through the rising tension.
"Begin!"
A flash of lightning erupted as Darin moved instantly, his figure blurring from sight.
Alex's instincts screamed—he raised his blade just in time to parry a lightning-fast strike. Sparks flew as steel met steel, the shockwave of the clash echoing across the ring.
Darin grinned, sparks dancing across his arms as lightning surged around him.
"Let's end this quickly!" he shouted, stepping forward with crackling confidence.
Bolts of electricity coiled down his right arm and concentrated into sharp, glowing spikes. He thrust his hand outward—four lightning spears shot forth, tearing through the air toward Alex with blinding speed. It wasn't his beast's attack; it was his own inherited ability, a manifestation of his Thunder-Spiked Lineage.
Alex didn't flinch. His molten-gold flames flared to life around him, flowing like liquid light. With a flick of his wrist, the flames curved and hardened—forming a shimmering, golden shield just in time to intercept the oncoming strikes.
The first three spears exploded against it in flashes of white and blue. The fourth broke through, grazing Alex's shoulder and scorching the edge of his uniform. He winced slightly but stood his ground, the molten glow still burning around him.
"Tch… not bad," he muttered, eyes narrowing.
Darin laughed, arcs of lightning rippling across his sword. "Come on, Alex! Show me if those flames of yours are more than just pretty light!"
For a heartbeat, both fighters stood still—the hum of mana thick in the air. Then Alex vanished.
A faint ripple of golden heat trailed behind him. Darin's eyes widened as a flash appeared at his flank—Alex reformed mid-step, his sword now wrapped in molten fire, its edge shaped sharper by his own will.
"He is good," Eiden said from the other end, as they all watched Alex chase onslaughts of his own, shaping molten blasts to keep up with Darin's lightning-fast speed.
Darin's grin faltered slightly as he realized Alex wasn't just defending—he was adapting quickly, using his molten flames in a controlled, tactical way. The heat of the flames shifted to form simple shields and arcs that kept Darin's strikes at bay, showing skill, but nothing beyond what a trained Seeker could handle.
"You're careful… and quick," Darin muttered, sending a small arc of electricity toward Alex. He dashed forward, his sword crackling as he slashed. The molten fire formed a basic barrier that absorbed the strike and deflected it harmlessly to the side.
Seeing this, Darin attacked again, slashing toward Alex's head. The sword connected with the edge of the flame shield, but the molten fire shifted upward just in time, blocking the strike. Alex stepped aside smoothly, keeping his stance balanced.
Before Darin could recover, Alex's molten sword flickered forward, reaching Darin's side. The instructor's voice rang out clearly:
"Alex wins."
The referee stepped forward just in time, stopping Alex's sword before it could harm Darin.
"Damn it," Darin mumbled, stepping back. He hadn't expected the fight to end so quickly. As he watched Alex relax, a sinking realization set in—he had been overconfident. Thinking that, with his powerful lighting and fast speed, he was invincible, he hadn't anticipated being outmaneuvered so efficiently.
"I need to hone my technique properly," he muttered, shaking his head. Against a quick, controlled opponent, his raw speed and power weren't enough.
"Thanks… it was a good match," he muttered under his breath, acknowledging that the fight had reminded him he still wasn't fast enough. He took a deep breath, letting the sting of the close call settle in, knowing he needed to improve before facing challenges like this again.
Alex wasn't entirely satisfied. Winning felt more like a narrow escape than a triumph. If not for the knowledge and techniques he had carried over from his previous life—the anime-inspired skills he had seen and practiced—he might have lost. The victory was real, but it reminded him of just how much he still had to learn.
He sheathed his sword slowly, letting his mind run over the fight in detail. Every movement, every reaction from Darin, replayed in his head. "I need to hone my reflexes… sharpen my anticipation," he thought, his hands clenched.