Lee Don’s power surged, a pressure wave rolling across the arena. I lifted Ember from my shoulder and set the blade gently at my side. The roar of the crowd dimmed to a distant hum as I forced my focus forward.

  Three combatants stepped out of the combatant ranks and walked slowly toward Lee. They had lotuses embroidered on their robes and each wore the same dark necklaces displayed outside their robes. They closed in around Lee.

  Their movements were synchronized; ritualistic; they never even looked towards me or the other combatants as they took positions kneeling around their master.

  I still hadn’t activated anything. Maybe giving him time was a mistake. Maybe I should’ve ended this before it started. But a part of me, the reckless, curious part, wanted to see exactly what Lee Don had cooked up.

  He raised both hands toward the heavens, sleeves falling back to reveal a golden bracelet clasped around his wrist. Three massive green gems were set into the band, each one pulsing with a heartbeat of inner light.

  The members of his sect began to convulse as energy from the necklaces and their bodies visibly funneled into Lee’s bracelet.

  Wind started to tear across the arena with the force of a newborn tornado, whipping dust into spirals. The lotus?robed disciples toppled over to the ground, as threads of emerald energy bled from them in greater quantiles. Every ounce of that energy streamed into the gems on Lee’s wrist.

  I watched in horror as Lee's sect members’ bodies turned to husks. A violent gust of wind bust out from the young master hitting the husks, turning them to dust in front of my eyes.

  Lee threw his head back and shouted, his voice booming with an unnatural resonance: “Thank you, brothers! Your sacrifices will be remembered. Now let this young master guide our sect into glory with the destruction of the false champion!”

  The gems on his bracelet flared. Green aura colored wind howled upward in a spiraling column, snapping his hair and robes toward the sky.

  A combatant in golden armor, lance tucked under his arm, had crept up behind Lee, hoping to strike while the young master's focus was on me. He never got the chance to attack. The moment he crossed into Lee’s aura filled wind, a tornado of wind erupted around him. Metal screamed. Flesh tore. In the space of a heartbeat, he was shredded like he’d stepped into a colossal blender.

  Another contestant, this one in hunter’s leathers with a stout bow, took one look at the carnage and shouted, “Fuck this shit!” before sprinting to the far arena wall.

  A part of me was incredulous; all this work to get in the top one-hundred and, at the first sign of trouble, the guy runs off. I sighed. Yeah. Maybe I’d waited long enough.

  I activated Regalia, feeling the armor clamp into place around my body with a familiar, reassuring protection and boost.

  I held off on Limit Break. Call it paranoia, but with recording crystals floating around and this match definitely being filmed, I wasn’t about to give future opponents a highlight reel of my entire kit if I could help it.

  Lee shot into the air in a burst of spiraling wind, robes snapping like torn banners. The gems on his bracelet pulsed again, and he swept his arm toward me.

  Blades of compressed air screamed down from above.

  I met them head?on.

  Searing Scars flew out of Ember. Each strike carved a glowing arc through the air, splitting the wind blades apart before they could reach me. Shattered currents exploded outward in harmless bursts of pressure.

  The space between us crackled with the force of our exchange.

  Before I could reposition, a twin?bladed swordsman lunged in from my right, his movements sharp and disciplined. He wasn’t reckless; he was trying to pin me down while Lee distracted me with his little death from above attempt.

  Good idea, I thought, just the wrong target.

  I Flash?Stepped.

  The world blurred. I reappeared behind him, Ember already in my hand. I drove the pommel into the back of his head with a clean, brutal strike.

  He crumpled instantly, unconscious before he hit the ground. I picked him up and threw him towards the arena wall, out of the way. “Killing Lee might be unavoidable, but I’m not killing people who’ve spent months doing good work just because they got in my way for five seconds.”

  Above me, Lee’s laughter echoed through the arena, wild, triumphant, and drunk on borrowed power. “With this power, I will crush you and reclaim my sect’s honor and wealth!”

  I looked up at him with disgust. This guy was talking some hot shit for someone using others’ borrowed strength to compete. I was about to make my move when Lee beat me to it. Dozens of wind blades spiraled outward like a storm of guillotines, slicing toward the three remaining combatants.

  Screams erupted at the sudden attack. I watched the three attempts to counter.

  A spear?wielder in crimson armor planted his feet and roared, “Crimson Pike, Heaven?Piercing Thrust!” His weapon elongated with a streak of red light and shot upward like a comet.

  A robed cultivator beside him slammed her palms together. “Verdant Binding Roots!” Emerald vines erupted from the ground, twisting upward to snare Lee mid?air.

  Another fighter, bare?chested, muscles etched with glowing runes, threw both arms forward. “Thunderclap Pulse!” A sphere of crackling lightning blasted toward Lee like a miniature sun.

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  The wind blades were disrupted, and the three tried to press the young master, but none of it mattered.

  Lee’s bracelet flared, and three cyclones burst outward, shredding them. The spear shattered. The vines disintegrated. The lightning sphere detonated harmlessly outward, all of them trying to escape.

  Whatever that bracelet was, it had given him power greater than any floor boss I’d ever faced.

  I summoned three Searing Spheres, blazing orbs of molten light that spun in a tight orbit around me. Each one hissed as it melted the wind blades that had been slicing toward me nonstop. The heat hummed against my skin, familiar, grounding.

  I was here to compete, not play hero… but watching the others on the brink of being torn apart made the choice for me.

  I hurled the spheres toward their trapped forms, letting the orbs absorb the raging tornadoes that held them. As the winds collapsed, I exhaled, surged forward with my movement skill, and swept their limp bodies out of danger. In a heartbeat, I deposited them beside the bowman, who had fled earlier. Two newly formed spheres hovered protectively at their sides.

  The bowman’s eyes went wide when I appeared.

  “Stay here and protect them as best you can,” I said. “The spheres will help. This will be over soon; just hang in there.”

  He nodded, still stunned, and I flashed back toward the center of the battlefield.

  I looked up to see Lee Don floating above the arena like a self?crowned king.

  I breathed out and rolled my shoulders. “Alright,” I shouted. “Just you and me, young master, show me what you got, or can you only muster those little gusts with that borrowed power of yours.”

  He laughed maniacally. “Power is power; it matters not where it comes from. Do you have any last words, false champion, before I end you?”

  I bounced Ember on my shoulder and gave an exaggerated bow.

  “Well, thank you so much, young master. I do have a few thoughts, actually.”

  I straightened, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t disagree more with your ideas about power. So let’s imagine something together. Say you defeat me and move on to the next round… what exactly would you do then?”

  He sneered down at me. “What do you mean?! I would continue to win glory!”

  “How?” I asked, tilting my head. “How could you possibly win anything, much less glory, when you’re relying on that little bracelet trick to prop you up?”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance.

  “You won’t have any sect members left to drain in the next round. And without them?” I shrugged. “Your own power is so lacking you can’t truly compete.”

  His borrowed strength flared violently, wind exploding outward in a hurricane-force blast directed at me. I stood unmoving in the storm, expression bored. People like him never saw the forest for the trees; they only saw themselves.

  He summoned a spear, wind mana spiraling counterclockwise around the shaft until it resembled a massive spinning drill. Even over the roar, I heard him scream: “Your final words were chosen poorly, peasant! You should have spent them praying. But to answer your question, my great benefactor will continue to aid me after your defeat! With his help, I will conquer this tournament! Enough talk. Time for you to die!”

  “What benefactor?” I asked curiously.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he rocketed upward, vanishing into the clouds until he was nothing but a speck. Then he dropped.

  With the spear leveled toward me as he descended, the air shrieked around him. He moved faster than any jet I’d ever seen in my old world, an entire storm compressed into a single killing strike.

  And he was aiming straight at me.

  I settled into a stance and thought, fuck it. Guess I was showing more cards today after-all.

  I activated Limit Break, but that wasn’t all. Six months of brutal training with Master Matt had paid off. I exhaled a breath laced with a sapphire aura and shouted: “Time's Two!”

  Heat surged through my body as the world slowed to a crawl. Aura and mana poured out of me in a torrent. I couldn’t hold this form for long, but I didn’t need long. One second would be enough.

  He was almost on top of me when I met his spear thrust with a full-force, Time's-Two, Limit-Break-enhanced Eclipse Strike.

  His aura stuttered just from the speed of my strike, eyes going wide as reality caught up to conviction, then my blade met his spear, and Lee Don became red mist, his body unable to deal with the combined force of his momentum and the power of my Eclipse Strike.

  I spun, creating a whirlwind that flung the droplets of blood beginning to rain down away from me. Then I released Limit Break and Regalia, letting out a slow, steadying breath.

  I glanced towards the remaining combatant. The bowman caught my eye, went pale, and immediately dropped to one knee.

  “I yield to the champion!” he screeched.

  Silence swept across the stadium as I dismissed Ember.

  Only then did the vice guild master’s voice boom out, announcing me as the victor.

  I lifted a hand and waved to the crowd as the slow?motion replay of my strike lit up the massive projection screen overhead. The arena erupted, roars crashing over me like a physical force as the footage zoomed in on the exact moment my blow landed.

  Then it froze on Lee’s face, right as he realized he’d made a catastrophic mistake.

  A small smile tugged at my lips. I didn’t enjoy killing… but that guy had absolutely earned it.

  I walked back to the gate to high fives and face licks from my friends. Balt slapped me on the back. “What took you so long?” He laughed. I smiled back, fighting licks from Tucker. “Dude was juiced.”

  Sager

  Captain Sager rolled away from her lover’s side, the soft sheets whispering against her skin. Carson lay sprawled across the mattress, one arm draped over the half?empty bottle he’d nursed while she’d… fulfilled her duties last night. He snored softly, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing behind her eyes.

  She sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face.

  “Honestly,” she muttered under her breath, “you’re the only bright spot in this whole farce.”

  Her gaze hardened.

  “If it were up to me, I’d end this charade today. Kill that little wench Alice and her brat, and be done with it.”

  She’d argued the point with the Master more than once. If Alice died, the young Outlier would come charging in for revenge, far faster than this tedious job of keeping her alive. But the Master insisted on patience. Patience. As if a level?100 Elite like her needed lessons in restraint.

  Sager stood, dressing in crisp, dark uniform layers with practiced efficiency. Her boots clicked sharply against the polished stone as she left the chamber and strode through the castle’s winding halls. Cold air drifted through the corridors, carrying the faint scent of incense and old magic.

  Halfway down the eastern wing, she heard it, rhythmic impacts, the low hum of mana, the sharp cadence of instruction. Training.

  She followed the sound to the grand practice hall and pushed open the heavy door.

  The room was as breathtaking as ever: towering stained?glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, each pane depicting ancient victories and long?dead heroes. Sunlight poured through them in fractured colors, painting the marble floor in shifting mosaics. Even at her level, Sager doubted she could put so much as a hairline crack in those windows.

  “Our craftsmen truly are unmatched,” she murmured, allowing herself a moment of genuine admiration.

  Her attention shifted to the center of the room.

  Marcilla, Alice’s main shadow and one of her more soft?hearted members, stood with the infant cradled in her arms, gently bouncing the child as she issued instructions to Alice. The girl was sweating, struggling through a basic stance sequence, her movements clumsy and slow.

  Sager rolled her eyes.

  What a waste of time.

  Alice would be dead soon enough, no matter how many drills Marcilla forced her through.

  Sager leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with cool detachment. The stained-glass cast shifting colors across her face, but nothing softened the steel in her expression.

  Soon, she told herself.

  Soon, this entire mess would be over. A smile ghosted across her lips, cold, certain. Soon she would kill them all and break this Outlier for her great master and then she would be his one and only.