While Grey was settling into the spectating stands above, deep beneath the coliseum, a chamber thrummed with barely restrained anticipation.

    Beneath the grandeur of the arena, a vast underground sanctum stretched wide—carved into the bedrock itself.

    The air was thick with tension, tinged with the metallic scent of blood, sweat, and raw mana. Each breath carried the weight of the coming battle.

    Massive walls of dark obsidian stone rose around the space, their surfaces veined with glowing, ancient runes that pulsed in rhythmic intervals—an intricate network of mana circuits designed not only to suppress volatile magic but to absorb its echoes.

    The chamber was circular, an architectural marvel that exuded both elegance and ancient brutality.

    Torches flickered along the perimeter, their flames an unnatural blue-white, casting ghostly shadows across arched ceilings and highlighting every tense muscle, every uneasy glance.

    Along the walls, long stone benches and weapon racks stood like sentinels, offering the participants a place to meditate, prepare, or steel themselves for what lay ahead.

    At the chamber''s core was a wide open circle, the floor etched with sigils that glowed faintly—archaic symbols meant to scan for contraband, amplify battle intent, and keep track of vital signs in real-time.

    Off to one side, a row of thick iron bars sealed private preparation alcoves. Each cubicle was dimly lit, divided by seamless slabs of enchanted stone, offering isolation to those who preferred solitude over the murmur of camaraderie.

    But the centerpiece of this subterranean sanctum loomed at the far end: a massive gate, ten feet tall and just as wide, wrought from iron darkened with age.

    Warding glyphs shimmered faintly upon its surface, and intricate Lunarian script spiraled across it—an ancient language of authority and suppression.

    Chains as thick as a man''s arm hung beside it, connected to great gears embedded high above in the ceiling.

    When the time came, that gate would rise with a slow, thunderous groan, the sound echoing like the roar of a slumbering giant.

    As light spilled in from above, it would signal more than just the start of battle—it would be the breath this chamber held, finally released to unleash its warriors upon the world.

    Within this charged silence, Grey''s friends—those who would soon fight for honor and recognition—stood scattered throughout the chamber.

    Some leaned against the walls, others sat cross-legged in meditation. A few paced, their thoughts consumed by the fight ahead.

    "I wonder…" Raze''s voice broke the stillness as he pushed off from the wall and approached the center. "Do you think Grey came to watch us?"

    "Highly unlikely," Arthur muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor, the tip of his boot drawing idle circles in the dust. His tone was laced with quiet frustration.

    "I don''t know why you all care so much if he came or not," Scarlet snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. "What you should be worried about is how you''re going to perform in this tournament."

    "Exactly," Greg said as he rose from his meditation, brushing dust off his knees. "If he''s in the stands and we fail to impress him, what reason would he have to keep watching?"

    "None." Jay replied nonchalantly, manipulating a hovering orb of water between his fingers—rising, falling, reshaping in a fluid dance of concentration. "Grey doesn''t waste his time on the unworthy."

    "Then let''s prove we are worth his time," Vince said, stepping forward, his voice rising with passion. "He can''t compete because of obvious reasons. So let''s make this count—for him."

    "Who''s in?" Gordon asked suddenly, his voice a low rumble that startled several of the others. Raze flinched hard, letting out a surprised yelp.

    "Damn it, Gordon! Stop sneaking up on people like some cursed spirit!" Raze clutched his chest, his heart hammering in his ribcage.

    "Let''s promise we''ll win this whole damn thing for Grey," Gordon continued, ignoring Raze''s dramatics. He extended his hand forward, palm open in solemn offering.

    "For Grey," Vanica echoed, slamming her palm onto Gordon''s with conviction.

    "I''m in," Raze grinned, stepping up without hesitation.

    "Count me in," Arthur said, his voice more resolute this time.

    "Anything for my best friend," Vince added, smiling as he joined the circle.

    "What betrayal!" Scarlet scoffed theatrically. "Now he''s your best friend? Where do I rank in this hierarchy?" Still, she placed her hand atop the others with a smirk.

    One by one, Vorden and Jay joined in. Only Greg remained, arms crossed, face turned away.

    "C''mon, Greg. Don''t be a party pooper," Raze teased. "Join the circle."

    "This is childish," Greg said, huffing. "I''m not joining in."

    Suddenly, the air thickened.

    The temperature surged, heat radiating like the sun itself had been summoned into the chamber. The degrees spiked, the floor almost shimmering from the intensity.

    "Will you join now?" Scarlet asked, her voice low, threatening, and terrifyingly calm. A growl followed her words, reverberating in Greg''s bones.

    "…Fine!" Greg snapped, sweat beading on his forehead. "But only because I want to prove to that peasant that I''m better than him." He placed his palm on top, begrudgingly. Sear?h the N??eFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Good boy," Scarlet purred, her flames receding with her satisfaction.

    "For Grey!" Vince roared, and in unison, the group raised their hands high, bound not just by friendship—but by purpose.

    Just then, a side door creaked open.

    "Great second-year students of Lunaria Academy," came a familiar voice.

    Magnus stepped into view, his robes pristine, his expression unreadable. A rare smile danced across his lips.

    "Instructor Magnus," Vince acknowledged, eyes widening.

    "What brings you down here?" Scarlet asked, her brow raised in suspicion.

    "I''m here to deliver the rules," Magnus replied, the warmth fading from his face. His voice dropped into a firm, commanding tone. "So listen closely."

    Silence fell. Every ear turned toward him.

    "Today''s event is a Shatter War," Magnus declared, his voice booming through the chamber.

    "Shatter War? What''s that supposed to be?" Jay asked, furrowing his brow.

    "You will form two teams—Team A and Team B. Same goes for the third years. Once the draw is made, Team A might face their Team B, or vice versa.

    Each team will be entrusted with a giant crystal. The objective? Destroy the enemy''s crystal. The first team to shatter the opponent''s crystal… wins."

    Magnus allowed a beat of silence before adding, "Simple, right?"

    "Simple, yeah," Raze muttered with a dry laugh. "Except it sounds like a damn warzone waiting to happen. Strategies, elemental chaos, traps—it''s going to be madness."

    "Exactly," Magnus smirked. "That''s why it''s called a Shatter War."

    "But Instructor Magnus," Vanica interjected, frowning. "There are only nine of us. The third years have eleven. How''s that fair?"

    Magnus turned, placing two fingers to his temple, mumbling incantations beneath his breath. A few moments later, he turned back to them.

    "The third years agreed to sit three students out for this round. It''ll be even." He paused, letting the information sink in. "So each side will select four members for the first round. Get picking. Time is running out."

    "Sheesh… this just got tricky," Greg muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

    ___

    {A/N}

    Grey sitting out of the tournament doesn''t mean that it will be boring... Trust this Supreme Author, I have things planned for y''all.