The fourth day of the Grand Neophyte Festival dawned sharper than the last. By the time the bells struck first light, the central arena was already roaring with life.

Today was different. The crowd wasn't meandering between stalls or side events. Every pathway, every terrace, every seat pointed toward the coliseum-like grounds at the valley's heart.

Because today, the spotlight belonged to the arena.

—

The opening event was the Arena Skirmish, and anticipation had churned overnight into frenzy.

Where the singles had tested individual mettle, this was designed to strip away arrogance. Two handlers, two beasts, one battlefield. Success hinged not only on personal strength but on resonance with another binder—one who wasn't always a friend, but someone who had to be trusted for survival.

The rules were simple: sixteen pairs, randomized matchups, single elimination. Duels were fought across shifting terrains—stone ridges, shallow marshes, narrow bridges suspended over spiritlight voids. Each field changed at random, forcing teams to adapt mid-battle.

The first matches rattled the arena floor. Some duos faltered immediately, their beasts colliding in conflicting rhythms. A wolf and serpent tried to lunge together, only to tangle and crash into each other. They were promptly eliminated to the crowd's jeers.

Others dazzled. A lightning hawk and storm-blooded hound fused their auras into arcs of thunder, shredding opponents before the referee could even call time. A pair of healers turned defense into spectacle, their layered wards holding against repeated strikes until their foes collapsed from exhaustion.

The climax came when two Combat Division prodigies entered—a hammer-wielding boy and his chosen partner, a spear specialist. Their beasts—a tusked iron boar and a bronze-plated drake—moved like extensions of each other. Every charge of the boar was flanked by the drake's sweeping wings. Every hammer strike mirrored by a spear thrust.

When the final clash rang out, their opponents were driven out of the boundary, battered and breathless. The crowd erupted in thunder.

"The Combat Division claims another victory!" the announcer boomed, his voice echoing across the dome. "Duo champions—Jaius Griffin and Galric Everen"

The stands shook with applause, the Combat students chanting their names until the very air vibrated.

—

What everyone waited for—the reason the stands overflowed, the reason second- and third-years leaned against the walls smirking—was the Singles Arena Quarterfinals.

The top sixteen had already proven themselves in preliminaries. Today would carve them into the top eight. Then to the top four. And every duel was promised to be brutal.

The glyph-screens flared, projecting the structure across the coliseum's walls.

—

[Quarterfinal Matchups]

Match One: Bracket 1 Winner vs. Bracket 2 Winner Match Two: Bracket 3 Winner vs. Bracket 4 Winner Match Three: Bracket 5 Winner vs. Bracket 6 Winner Match Four: Bracket 7 Winner vs. Bracket 8 Winner Match Five: Bracket 9 Winner vs. Bracket 10 Winner Match Six: Bracket 11 Winner vs. Bracket 12 Winner Match Seven: Bracket 13 Winner vs. Bracket 14 Winner Match Eight: Bracket 15 Winner vs. Bracket 16 Winner

—

Each square would now collapse into one grand battlefield—eight duels fought in sequence, not side by side.

The announcer's voice boomed again, full of pomp and spectacle:

"First-years of Dawn Crest Academy! You have shown skill, cunning, and fire. Now the path narrows. Only eight may continue. Witness the Quarterfinal Draw!"

The crowd roared so loud the banners trembled against the stone pillars.

—

The referee's voice cracked through the coliseum.

"Quarterfinals, Match One! Tristan Graves versus Jonathan Galius—step forward!"

The gate ahead rumbled open.

Tristan strode out first, the roar of the Combat Division rising like a wave from the stands. At his side, two beasts moved with lethal grace.

Zoom, the Infernal Fang Cheetah, was a blur even at a walk—ember-black fur rippling, crimson runes glowing like molten brands. Each pawstep left faint scorch marks, and its breaths shimmered into heat mirages that distorted the air. Its eyes glowed with raw fire, unblinking as it scanned the battlefield.

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Behind it floated Scylla, the Wave Crasher Serpent, scales glinting blue and violet like shards of ocean light. Its coils glided effortlessly in the air, mucus-slicked and dangerous, a predator that could drown its foes in water even on dry land.

But the cheers shifted as Jonathan stepped through the opposite gate.

Where Tristan radiated arrogance, Jonathan was calm and controlled. His partner loomed behind him—a beast of imposing presence. On the participants' bleachers, Aston analyzed the beast lugging behind Jonathan.

—

[Spirit Beast: Ironhide Bull]

[Type: Bestial]

[Attribute: Earth]

[Genus: Taurus]

[Rank: 3-star]

[Potential: 9-star]

[Description: A towering bull clad in plates of natural ironstone. Each step trembles the ground. The Ironhide Bull wields a colossal horn formed from its own condensed essence, capable of cleaving through shields and earth alike.]

[Skills:]

[Earthshatter Stomp: Slams the ground, creating quakes that destabilize opponents.]

[Stone Cleave: Channels essence into its axe, releasing a shockwave of cutting rock.]

[Next skill unlocks at 5-star]

[Passive Skills:]

[Ironhide: Its skin hardens like forged steel, resisting both physical and elemental strikes.]

[Innate Skills:]

[Gravity Pulse: Distorts gravitational pull in a small radius, dragging enemies slightly off-balance or slowing their movement.]

[Next innate unlocks at 5-star]

—

The Ironhide Minotaur's arrival silenced the arena for a heartbeat. Towering over Tristan's beasts, its iron-crusted hooves struck the arena floor with a sound like war drums. Dust shook loose from the coliseum walls.

Jonathan raised his shield in salute—measured, unshaken.

The referee announced, "Rules, one beast per participant. Match ends in incapacitation or surrender of either beast or participant. Lethal attacks are illegal. Battle starts on my count…"

The referee counted from three to zero, then lifted his arm. "Begin!"

Tristan stood at ease, his lips curved into a smirk as though the outcome had already been decided.

Across from him, Jonathan tightened his stance. Shield braced. His eyes didn't waver. "Brontes!"

The ground shook as the Ironhide Bull thundered forward. Its bulk was immense, shoulders plated with ironstone hide that gleamed in the sun. Dust flew with every pounding hoof. The beast's eyes blazed crimson, breath rumbling like a forge.

At Tristan's side, Zoom crouched low, ember-black fur rippling with runic light. The cheetah's paws ignited, flame licking across the arena floor.

"Go," Tristan murmured.

Zoom became a streak of fire.

The cheetah vanished from sight, reappearing in a blazing arc at the bull's flank. Heat shimmered in its wake, bending the air.

Jonathan barked, "Brace! Earthshatter Stomp!"

Brontes slammed both forehooves into the floor. The arena cracked, stone splitting under the quake. Zoom stumbled mid-stride, flames scattering—but the beast recovered instantly, claws raking across Brontes' armored hide. Sparks flew, scorching furrows along iron plates.

The bull bellowed, horned head swinging sideways with terrifying force.

"Heat Veil," Tristan ordered.

Zoom blurred, its form dissolving into shimmering distortion. The horns cut only air, momentum dragging Brontes past. The cheetah flickered back into sight, circling wide, leaving scorched pawprints with every step.

"Flame Orbs."

Three burning orbs flared into existence around Zoom, orbiting with blistering speed. The air grew thick with heat, red ripples washing across the arena.

The bull lowered its head and charged, horns glowing with earthen essence. Jonathan's shield lunged forward in perfect sync, aura reinforcing the thrust.

The collision came in a roar of fire and stone.

Zoom darted sideways, the Flame Orbs striking Brontes' flank in rapid succession. Explosions seared across its hide, smoke and molten shards bursting outward. The crowd gasped as the bull staggered, hide cracked, but still it pressed on.

Jonathan grit his teeth. "Stone Cleave!"

Brontes reared, hooves crashing down. A shockwave of jagged rock tore across the arena floor, splinters slicing toward the cheetah.

Tristan's smirk deepened. "Flash Pounce."

Zoom blurred into motion, slipping between the stone spikes in a trail of fire. In a blink, it was gone—then above, descending in a comet of flame.

The cheetah struck the bull's skull with burning claws, crimson runes flaring like brands. Fire cascaded in blinding arcs.

Brontes crashed to the floor, horns carving trenches in the stone. Its legs buckled. The iron sheen across its hide dulled, then faded entirely as the beast fell still, unconscious but breathing.

The referee's hand shot upward.

"Winner—Tristan Graves!"

The Combat Division erupted into a frenzy of cheers, voices shaking the very stands. Zoom padded back to Tristan's side, flames still flickering at its paws. Tristan lifted a hand lazily in acknowledgment, arrogance radiating like heat.

Jonathan dropped to one knee beside Brontes, steadying the beast's labored breaths. There was no shame in his eyes—only resolve. He saluted with his spear before retreating with healers' aid.

Tristan never looked back. His victory was already carved into the arena stone.

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