The fight kicked off with a burst of motion. A blond boy named Blake rushed forward, swinging a heavy mace. But Isaiah—calm and collected—dodged easily, stepping aside like he was taking a stroll.
"Whoa! Isaiah's crazy fast!" a student shouted, echoing everyone's reaction.
Blake didn't back down. He launched a wild combo of attacks, hoping to overpower Isaiah with pure strength. But Isaiah moved like water, slipping past each swing with perfect timing.
Then, in a blink, Isaiah switched to offense. He closed the gap and slashed with his longsword. Metal clashed, and everyone watched with wide eyes as he blocked and countered like a pro.
Blake left a small opening, and Isaiah didn't miss it. He darted forward, and the tip of his sword cut Blake's cheek. A thin line of blood appeared.
Blake snapped.
In a burst of cursed energy, four clones of himself appeared—each one holding a mace.
"You don't mind a few extra Blakes, do you?" he sneered, grinning through the blood.
Isaiah didn't even flinch. "Even if there were a thousand of you."
Gasps filled the room. Blake wasn't just strong—he was ranked in the top twenty. His clones were as strong as he was. Some students started to think Isaiah might actually lose.
The five Blakes charged in. The crowd held their breath. Mr. Eris, the referee, watched closely, ready to stop the fight if it got out of hand.
Isaiah's eyes glowed a bright blue.
[Ability Activated: God's Eyes]
Know thy enemy.
Suddenly, time seemed to slow down. Isaiah saw every possible move Blake and his clones could make and every perfect way to counter them.
What followed looked like a dance.
One Blake swung low but Isaiah jumped back, kicked the mace into the air, then Spartan-kicked the clone in the chest, sending him flying.
Another came from the side. Isaiah dodged, grabbed the airborne mace, and threw it straight into that Blake's chest.
A third Blake lunged. Isaiah stepped to the side and elbowed him so hard he passed out instantly.
"Down to two," Isaiah muttered.
The last two Blakes hesitated. One rushed in, the other stayed back.
Isaiah ducked the incoming blow and slashed the attacker's legs. As the clone hit the floor, Isaiah grabbed his head and slammed it into the ground.
"Enough with the knock-offs," Isaiah said, stepping over the unconscious body. "Let's see the real deal."
He walked slowly toward the last Blake.
The real Blake's hands shook. He looked into Isaiah's glowing eyes like he was staring at a god.
"I—I surrender!" he stammered, dropping his weapon.
"ISAIAH IS THE WINNER!" Mrs. Eris announced. The whole room went silent as Isaiah stepped off the stage.
Everyone stared. That's why he's number one.
But someone had been watching even more closely—Kai.
"He's not just a strong fighter," Kai muttered to himself. "There's something else…"
"Like what?" someone beside him asked.
Kai didn't reply right away. He looked at Isaiah—who smiled and waved at him from across the room.
Kai looked away.
"...Never mind."
---
Other Matches
More high-ranking students stepped up.
Rebecca Chronoa, a silver-haired girl, fought against Nikki Redmond. Rebecca used a sleek black bow hidden in a quilt on her back.
Nikki tried to stop her from using it, but Rebecca's speed was on another level. When Nikki tried to grab her and jump out of the ring together, Rebecca flipped into the air and shot three arrows—one disarmed Nikki, the other two hit her legs.
Nikki screamed in pain. The match was stopped. Medics in white coats carried her away.
Then came Michael's turn.
Standing across from him was a massive Russian student named Igor, holding a war hammer that looked like it belonged in a video game boss fight.
Michael stared.
"Be honest," he said. "What animal did your mom sleep with to make you?"
Igor's face darkened.
With shocking speed, Igor rushed at him, swinging the hammer with murder in his eyes.
Michael barely dodged. The hammer hit the ground, creating a massive crater.
"Are you trying to kill me?!" Michael yelped as another hammer swing zoomed past his head.
"You insulted Mother," Igor growled, gripping the hammer tighter. "No one insults Mother."
Michael backed up, pulling out two grey daggers. "Okay big guy. You wanna dance?"
His eyes glowed red.
[Ability Activated: Marked by Death]
Michael charged. Igor swung again, hard—his most powerful strike yet.
But the hammer passed right through Michael like he was a ghost.
Igor blinked. "...Huh?"
Michael was now behind him, slashing his back with clean, shallow cuts.
"AGHH!" Igor shouted, spinning and trying to grab him. But Michael phased again.
"What in the name of Mother Russia…?" Igor mumbled. "Am I fighting a ghost?!"
Michael slashed at Igor's knees, then jumped into the air and roundhouse kicked his jaw. Igor crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold.
Michael crouched beside him and whispered, "...Yup. Definitely a bear."
---
A few matches later, it was Kai's turn.
He stepped on stage before Mrs. Eris even called his name.
"Mrs. Eris," he said. "I'd like to make a request."
She raised a brow. "Go ahead."
"I want to fight him," Kai said, pointing directly at Damian Knight, the number two ranked student.
The room fell into shocked silence.