As Hualing closed the distance, Eliza channeled her power into a desperate counterattack. Golden geotric shapes materialized between her fingers, their edges gleaming with arcane energy as she hurled them toward her approaching adversary. Hualing responded with casual indifference, tilting her head just enough for the projectiles to sail past her ear, the movent so minimal it appeared almost contemptuous.
A triumphant smile flickered across Eliza’s face as she executed a subtle finger movent. The golden constructs reversed trajectory in mid-air, curving sharply to target Hualing from behind—a classic misdirection technique that had claid countless overconfident opponents.
Hualing didn’t bother to look back. With eerie precision, a single thread of blood extended from her fingertip, dancing through the air like a conductor’s baton. The crimson filant intercepted Eliza’s attack with surgical accuracy, slicing through the complex geotric patterns as though they were nothing more substantial than morning mist. The golden constructs flickered briefly before dissolving entirely, their accumulated magical energy dispersing in fading motes of light.
Determination hardened Eliza’s features as she witnessed her technique neutralized with such casual ease. Her hands rose once more, fingers already weaving the frawork for a more potent incantation. But Hualing had closed the remaining distance with frightening speed, suddenly materializing directly before her. Before Eliza could complete her spell, Hualing’s hands interlocked with her own, crushing the half-ford magic between their palms.
Despair flashed across Eliza’s face—then transford into unexpected triumph. "Got you!" she declared, her fingers suddenly clamping down on Hualing’s with surprising strength.
Hualing’s eyes widened with montary surprise, but her realization ca too late. The trap had been sprung. Blinding golden light erupted from beneath Hualing’s feet, engulfing her completely in a pillar of concentrated runic energy. The conflagration burned with searing intensity, its brilliance forcing spectators to shield their eyes as the platform trembled under the magical detonation.
Throughout the arena, surprised murmurs rippled through the crowd. They hadn’t noticed Eliza preparing such an elaborate trap. As the pillar of light began to fade, many leaned forward in anticipation, wondering if this cleverly concealed ambush had turned the tide.
Eliza herself watched the dissipating energy with cautious optimism. Half my magical reserves went into that trap, she thought, breathing heavily from the exertion. I laid it the mont I realized she would target our barrier’s edge. It should have at least injured her severely.
As smoke and magical residue cleared from the platform, revealing the trap’s aftermath, Eliza’s montary hope collapsed into stunned disbelief. Hualing stood exactly where she had been, barely moved by the explosive force that should have incapacitated even a high-ranking combatant. A few minor bruises marred her exposed skin—the equivalent of light sunburn rather than the devastating damage the trap had been designed to inflict.
Most terrifying of all was Hualing’s expression. Those crimson eyes bored into Eliza’s with such primal intensity that the rune specialist felt her very soul exposed. In that mont, Eliza understood what true fear ant—not the academic concern of potential defeat, but the visceral terror of facing sothing beyond conventional understanding.
From his ditative position across the platform, Ambrose observed the exchange. "Of course she survived" Ambrose thought, he had already seen this little trick the mont it happened. But he hadn’t bothered telling Hualing as he didnt feel that it mattered. He also thought that although it couldn’t hurt her, it might teach Hualing to think instead of just relying on brute force, but looking at it now, it seed to have just made her even more angry.
His gaze lingered on the few superficial marks that constituted the entirety of damage Hualing had sustained. Then again, with her stamina stat rely a point below B-rank threshold, conventional attacks pose little threat.
What appeared to spectators as an ingenious counterasure had amounted to little more than a mosquito bite against Hualing’s overwhelming physical resilience—serving only to intensify her focus on her prey.
…
Eliza stared at Hualing, genuine fear finally breaking through her composed exterior. The creature before her defied conventional understanding—even her most powerful trap had proven ineffective. Yet beneath that fear, sothing stubborn burned in Eliza’s core. She drew a steadying breath, forcing herself to et those crimson eyes with renewed determination.
Her gaze dropped to their interlocked hands, and a desperate inspiration sparked. One last trick. A grim smile curved her lips as she began channeling magic directly through their point of contact—a simple spike rune that required minimal preparation.
"If I can’t break free conventionally..." she thought, steeling herself for what would co next.
Eliza gritted her teeth as the spell activated. Pain lanced through her palms as magical spikes erupted from her flesh, tearing through both her hands and Hualing’s in a single savage mont. The force separated them, creating precious distance as blood flowed freely from Eliza’s self-inflicted wounds.
Gasps rippled through the crowd—even hardened combat students shocked by such deliberate self-mutilation. Her own teammates looked on in horror, witnessing their leader’s desperation.
Hualing rely glanced at her injured hands with clinical detachnt. Blood already danced around her wounds, weaving intricate patterns as it sealed the damage with supernatural efficiency. Unlike her opponent, Eliza had no such healing ability. She raised her bleeding hands defiantly, crimson droplets spattering the platform beneath her as she summoned her next spell.
Golden geotric constructs materialized despite her injuries, their edges less crisp than before as her concentration wavered. She launched them toward Hualing with a hoarse cry, pouring what remained of her strength into the attack. Hualing dispatched them easily, blood threads slicing through the shapes like scissors through paper, their fragnts dissolving into sparkling motes.
Undeterred, Eliza summoned another volley, then another. Her vision began to blur, Hualing’s form doubling in her perception. I’m feeling dizzy, she realized dimly, the blood loss and mana depletion taking their toll. Still, her hands continued their desperate dance, weaving spell after diminishing spell.
"Just a little longer," she whispered, her voice barely audible even to herself. "For my team. They believe in ."
Victory had never been her objective—she fought rely for ti, for rating points, for her team’s future prospects within the academy. Each additional second of resistance represented a small victory against overwhelming odds.
The world tilted suddenly, blue sky filling her vision where monts before there had been her opponent. Confusion passed through her fading consciousness. I’m on the ground, she realized. When did that happen?
With trembling arms, she attempted to push herself upright. Just one more minute... just need to reach the five minute mark... then I can...
Hands gently restrained her, not Hualing’s but familiar ones—her teammates, surrounding her with concerned expressions.
"Stop," Finn urged softly. "You can stop now."
"Stop?" Eliza repeated, the word slurring slightly. "No, I have to—"
"It’s okay," Astrid interjected, her voice gentle but firm. "You’ve already done enough."
"Enough?" The concept seed foreign to Eliza’s determined mind.
"Yes," Soren confird, squeezing her shoulder gently. "More than enough."
The tension drained from Eliza’s body as the words penetrated her fading consciousness. Enough?, she thought as her eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Enough...
Her eyes closed as exhaustion claid her, consciousness slipping away into rciful darkness.
"Victory to Team Rothschild!" the announcer’s voice bood across the arena, officially declaring what everyone had known from the match’s beginning.
Eliza’s teammates carefully lifted their unconscious leader, their expressions a mixture of concern and proud reverence. As they passed Hualing, they paused briefly, bowing their heads slightly in acknowledgnt.
"Thank you for showing restraint with our leader," Freya said softly.
Astrid nodded in agreent. "We won’t forget this. Next tournant, we’ll be stronger—be prepared."
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Hualing watched impassively as they departed, their words registering but their sentint escaping her comprehension. After they disappeared from view, she tilted her head slightly in confusion.
"What’s up with them?"
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