Scott’s spear blade erupted with light as it raked across his opponent’s chest. He pushed forward, following up with a second strike, ramming the glowing spear into the gaping wound before the Caldera could put up his guard.

Unsurprisingly, Scott emerged victorious from his first fight. His opponent wasn’t even an Expert; honestly, even I could have dealt with the fighter the Caldera had chosen for him.

But as simple as Scott’s victory appeared, nobody interrupted the Katrak. Cheers resounded through the arena, followed by what I could only describe as relief and excitement now that the fights had finally become a little bit deadlier.

The Caldera were weird. Defeating Wesley and the others–crushing them–had dampened their mood. It was so bad; the tension in the air felt tangible. That was no longer the case as the second Caldera collapsed half-dead to the ground. But instead of cussing us out or attacking us in anger for pushing their people to the very edge of death, they cheered us on.

Not even the severed limb seemed to interest them much. If anything, the Caldera praised and hyped their people, pointing almost reverently at the scars that remained from the wounds Scott and I had inflicted on them.

“To them, pain is no more than weakness leaving their bodies,” Daniel said quietly, smiling nervously when I turned to him. “Scars are marks that show everyone how much weakness they’ve gotten rid of. That’s what I read about them. Don’t look at me like that. I, too, do my fair amount of research!”

I chuckled but said nothing. Being here with Daniel was great. It brought back childhood memories, most of which were foolish and nonsensical. But now that the old memories resurfaced in my mind, I couldn’t help but smile at them. As foolish as most of our childhood dreams were, some of the weirdest had come true.

We were both Blessed, fairly powerful for our age, and we roamed through dangerous regions, exploring Rizarn’s wonders. Meeting up with the members of another race to fight them, performing sacred rites, and the like had not been on our minds when we were young, but I loved it. And it was all thanks to the people around me–my father’s sacrifice in leaving the Bastion’s protection to locate a beast egg for me to bind, all while he was unBlessed and without any measure of protection; Daniel’s constant support; and everyone else helping me grow stronger.

I owed them a lot–all of them. If even one of them hadn’t been there for me, I would never have made it this far. That–as unfortunate as it was–included the months with Ruler Kazriel.

“You did well, Scott,” Daniel laughed nervously when our friend walked over.

“They’re tough. That guy’s skin was as hard as steel. I doubt the average Evolved beast can pierce his skin easily.” Scott shook his head, wiping his sweaty forehead. “He definitely has the body of an Evolved beast, the intelligence of a Blessed with a mentally attributed Soulkin, and that ability to burn his molten core to boost his physical attributes was quite powerful too.”

My eyebrows furrowed at that. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same fight? You demolished your opponent in, like, what–10 to 15 seconds?”

Scott chuckled mirthlessly. “You did not feel what I felt. I burned through more ether than most Experts have to augment my body and charge the spear. If not for that, I may as well have lost.”

I sincerely doubted his words, but there was no need to argue. Daniel fidgeted around, his face drained of all color as he listened on. Scott noticed and walked over, arm slung around his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. You read a lot about the Caldera in the last few weeks, didn’t you?” Scott asked, continuing when Daniel nodded. “So you also know that the Caldera value honor and fairness. Of course, fairness is relative, but I don’t think you have to be worried. The Caldera won’t let you fight their equivalent of a Master, no matter how many years ago you gained access to ether. As long as you are an Expert, they’ll pick another Expert to measure up against you.” He smiled faintly and added, “If they can find a Journeyman who’s been Spirit-touched for as long as you have, they may as well throw that into the combat ring. After all, it looks like they love cross-ranked fights. That doesn’t make much sense to me, but it’s their decision.”

Scott was right about most of what he said. The Caldera did indeed like putting lower-ranked Spirit-touched against our people. That didn’t mean they were younger or less experienced, though. If anything, the Caldera facing the other cadets had been a decade older, their techniques precise and meticulously perfected over the course of years. They made up for their “lack of power” with technique, experience, and a combat awareness that was simply impossible for anyone at our age to attain.

“Felin,” Ruler Xadrak’s voice cut through the air, silencing the discussion around him. “Do not disappoint me.”

His Scion bowed toward the Ruler and stepped forward. Death oozed from her as she entered the arena with a lithe gait, but it did not expand as explosively as before. Closing her eyes, the feeling of death vanished. No–focusing on the feeling, Predator activated instinctively, unraveling the hues of death shrouding the Scion. They retracted into her body and burst out of her pores mere moments later, stronger and more potent than before.

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The hue of death was camouflaged. Not perfectly, but it was hard to detect if one did not know what or where to look. Yet, seeing everything unfold before my eyes, I stumbled back, hair standing on end. The death around her was concealed, compressed, and further refined to add another edge to it as her opponent received the Spiritcaller’s markings and walked inside the arena.

“That’s not going to end well,” I blurted out, turning to my friends. However, only Daniel was present. Scott was already beside Ruler Sera, his eyes glowing milky white.

Ruler Sera’s expression soured, and she turned to say something to Ruler Xadrak, who shrugged nonchalantly. Emerald light gathered in Ruler Sera’s hand. At the same time–the healers of the Caldera must have noticed something as well–whispers of archaic Pyra chants resounded, softly filling the arena with the Caldera’s power.

A moment later, the Spiritcaller started the Katrak. If one could call it that. I, for one, considered it a disaster.

Predator triggered in ways I didn’t think were possible. The world around me distorted as my senses heightened. Crimson ether that hadn’t been visible before streamed through the cavern. It connected to the lava veins carved across the walls and ceiling and led back to the deeper parts of the Caldera’s home. I was sure I caught a glimpse of something in the depths of their home, but my instincts homed in on the Scion as a skull conjured behind her.

The hue of death she’d cultivated right before the battle started unraveled as the Caldera charged ahead.

He looked powerful. His broad chest, packed with finely sculpted muscles, was most certainly not just for show. Clearly, he was a great physical fighter, his fighting spirit bursting outward as the arena ground underfoot cracked. He emerged before the Scion with one mighty leap, flames sizzling around his feet. Then death reached out to him and gripped him ever so tightly.

The Caldera’s eyes rolled back, his fighting spirit replaced with a sudden void. He landed back on the ground and collapsed before the Scion. Ruler Sera and the Caldera’s healer moved instantaneously, but it was the Spiritcaller who appeared in the combat ring. His hand shot toward the Scion’s opponent, who had yet to move after collapsing, and pressed down on his chest.

Silver flames surged out of the Spiritcaller’s palms and lower arms, his dim veins flaring up. Flames pumped into the Caldera, yet life continued to seep out of him. That was, if he had any life left after whatever the Scion had done to him. I… was not quite sure what I was seeing.

He’s still not moving. Did she really just kill him?

I shuddered at the thought, trying and failing to grasp how someone could kill the equivalent of a Master with such ease. There was no way the Caldera put someone weaker than an experienced Master against the Scions, yet looking at the unmoving figure clad in the Caldera’s magic, their flames, and Ruler Sera’s healing, I knew I didn’t want to make her my enemy. Never.

We will be stronger than her in due time. Then we can crush her. Patience is the key to true power.

Aureus growled in my mind. But I could tell even the Earthheart–and especially the Ferronox Mantis–were shaken.

The skull of death dissipated alongside the lethal hue the Scion had accumulated, her complete disregard for her opponent’s well-being apparent. She turned away as if she didn’t just kill someone and returned to Ruler Xadrak’s side, a single droplet of sweat trickling down her pale temples.

The tension in the arena returned, and it only grew more intense even as a collective sigh of relief resounded. My eyes shifted from the Scion back to the Caldera she’d just fought, and I, too, sighed.

A loud, almost desperate gasp for air rang out from the center of the arena as the broad-shouldered Caldera jerked upright. His head jerked around, and his quivering eyes locked onto Ruler Xadrak’s Scion.

“Spirit of Death,” he sputtered in Pyra, his crimson orbs dimming again as he lost consciousness.

The Caldera was not dead. That was great, of course, but his survival didn’t dissolve the tension hanging in the air.

What are they thinking? What in the Rulers’ Name is wrong with these idiots? I screamed in my head as Ruler Maximilian motioned his Scion to enter the arena next, his cheerful face now a mask of ice. The Spiritcaller and the healer had yet to leave with the broad-shouldered patient when the student of the Ruler of Space teleported to the opposite side of the arena, hands cupped at her hips. She stared at them impatiently, like their troubles couldn’t be any less important to her.

I would have loved to speak my mind, make sure the Rulers and Scions learned to read the room, but I liked my head where it was. It looked best on my shoulders–unscathed and intact.

“Great. They’ll kill me once I enter the arena,” Daniel groaned. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be that bad, yet looking at the spectating Caldera, I couldn’t say that out loud. The Caldera no longer cheered. Fiery sparks spread across their bodies, the thirst for bloody combat oozing from their eyes.

Yeah… well… that is going to be a mess.

The Scions and Rulers did not seem to mind the tension. Only Ruler Sera grimaced, but it was one of anger rather than discomfort. She… was she angry about resurrecting the Caldera?

No, that can’t be. The stress is probably getting to me.

“The Katrak may continue,” the Spiritcaller announced tensely once it was certain the combatant wouldn’t suffer any long-lasting damages. “The Primal Spirit acknowledges the need for power. For bloodshed. For failure. To rise again, shed your weakness in the flames of birth, and ascend from the ashes.”

Something in the Rulers’ demeanor shifted as the words echoed through the hall. They smiled, their expressionless faces turned to bright smiles as they bowed toward the Spiritcaller.

“Let us continue.”