The air in the Underground Gym of Babyls Academy was thick with the scent of old stone, damp magic, and the palpable nervous energy of the Abnormal Class. Usually, this place was used for high-level combat training, but today, the vast, echoing space had been transformed into a massive court. At the center sat several iron-heavy, magically-infused spheres that looked less like sports equipment and more like medieval siege weapons.
Kalego-sensei stood at the front of the class, his dark purple cloak billowing slightly as he surveyed the group with his trademark look of utter disappointment. To his side, a massive hourglass filled with glowing blue sand stood ready.
"Listen up, you lot," Kalego's voice cut through the chatter like a frozen blade. "The Cannonball Execution isn't some playground game for you to frolic in. It is a fundamental assessment of your ability to survive, adapt, and project power. If you fail to take this seriously, I will personally ensure your ranks drop so low you'll be cleaning the school's drainage pipes for the rest of the semester."
The Misfits straightened up instantly. Even Clara, who had been trying to see if she could fit her head inside one of the equipment lockers, popped up and stood at attention. Noir took a deep breath, feeling the cool weight of the Ring of Gluttony on his finger. Beside him, Alice was already smoldering with a quiet, fierce intensity, ready to burn anyone who even dared to look at Noir-sama the wrong way.
Kalego paced in front of the line of students, his boots clicking sharply on the stone floor.
"The rules are simple, even for minds as limited as yours," Kalego began, gesturing toward the court. "The class will be divided into two teams. Each team will start with a set number of players in the infield. The rest will occupy the outfield, surrounding the opposing team's territory."
He pointed to the boundaries marked by glowing purple lines of mana.
"The objective is to eliminate the opposing team's infielders by striking them with the ball. However, this is where the 'Execution' part comes in. If you are hit, you are not simply out of the game. You are relegated to the outfield. From there, you are expected to continue the assault. An outfielder's job is to trap the enemy, intercepting stray balls and launching surprise attacks from their blind spots. The game only ends when one team's infield is completely wiped out, or the time runs out."
Noir watched the iron ball. It wasn't just heavy; it pulsed with a faint, hungry light. He remembered Opera's training—the way the energy had to be "cradled" rather than just blocked.
"You are permitted—and encouraged—to use magic on the ball," Kalego continued, his eyes narrowing. "Enchant it, accelerate it, change its weight, or imbue it with elemental properties. However, a word of warning: direct magical attacks on other students are strictly forbidden. If you fire a lightning bolt at your classmate's face instead of the ball, I will disqualify you on the spot and the punishment will be... memorable."
Sabnock Sabro grinned, his massive hands twitching. "A test of pure propulsion and tactical enchantment! Truly, a game fit for the future Demon King!"
Kalego ignored him and moved to the most important part of the exam.
"Your rank evaluation will be calculated proportionally. This isn't just about winning; it's about who you take down and how you do it. If a lower-ranked student manages to eliminate a higher-ranked opponent, their score will skyrocket. Conversely, if those of you with higher ranks—" his gaze flickered briefly toward Noir and Alice "—allow yourselves to be taken out by someone beneath you, your evaluation will suffer immensely. We are looking for the quality of your willpower and your tactical efficiency."
Noir felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. As a Rank \alpha (Aleph), he was technically at the bottom of the food chain according to the school records, despite his massive physical transformation. This meant everyone would be gunning for him, thinking he was an easy mark for a rank boost, while he had the most to gain by holding his ground.
"The match will last exactly fifteen minutes," Kalego said, glancing at the giant hourglass. "Time is a luxury you do not have. Efficiency is everything."
Kalego held up a single finger, emphasizing the final technicalities.
"Two last things. First: the ground rule. If the ball strikes the floor once, the magic within it dissipates and it is considered a 'dead ball.' It is safe to pick up at that point. However, if it ricochets off a wall or another player, it is still live. Use the environment to your advantage."
He then leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl.
"And finally: Face contact is an automatic foul. This is a test of execution, not a common brawl. If you strike an opponent in the head, you will be penalized, and the ball will be handed over to the other team. Aim for the torso, aim for the limbs, but keep it clean. Do I make myself clear?"
"YES, KALEGO-SENSEI!" the class shouted in unison.
Kalego checked his clipboard. "The teams have been pre-determined based on your current standings and abilities. Team A will be led by Sabnock Sabro. Team B... will be led by Noir Sullivan."
Alice's face lit up with a glow that could have illuminated a dark forest. "As expected! Noir-sama is naturally the leader! I shall be your shield, your spear, and your most devoted outfielder if need be!"
Clara began hopping in place. "Team Noir! Team Noir! We're gonna throw the ball and go zoom and bonk!"
Noir looked over at Sabnock, who was already flexing, his golden hair practically standing on end with excitement. Sabro looked like a mountain made of muscle and competitive fire. Noir, on the other hand, felt the reinforced bones in his hands thrumming with the spell Sullivan had placed on him. He wasn't just worried about winning anymore; he was worried about whether he could control the "Zoom" he had practiced in the yard without bringing the ceiling down on everyone's heads.
"You have five minutes to discuss strategy with your teams," Kalego said, turning his back to them. "When the sand begins to fall, the execution begins. Don't make me regret letting you into this gym."
Noir turned to his team, seeing Alice, Clara, and a few others looking at him with expectant eyes. He wasn't the "King" Alice thought he was, and he wasn't the "Small-fry" Kalego thought he was. He was just a boy trying to survive the most intense game of dodgeball in history.
"Okay guys," Noir said, his voice steadier than he felt. "Let's just... try not to get 'executed' in the first five minutes, okay?"
Alice nodded solemnly. "A brilliant strategy of preservation, Noir-sama! We shall lure them into a false sense of security before the slaughter!"
Noir sighed. It was going to be a very long fifteen minutes.