Mizuki’s eyelids felt like lead. The cold was spreading from her fingertips up her arms—she had lost too much blood.

  If she didn’t get help immediately… the tendons would retract. She would never grip anything ever again.

  Schluck. The sound of her own body breaking echoed in her memory.

  Yet, trembling, Mizuki forced her neck muscles to lock. She hovered her face inches above the red pool expanding beneath her.

  She could bleed out. She could lose her hands. But she would not let the blood taint the hat.

  She drew a ragged breath, exhaling a cloud of frost over her mangled palms. The blood hissed as it turned to ice.

  Mizuki squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream as the cold bit into her raw nerves. It was necessary. She had to trap the tendons in ice now—before they snapped back into her forearms, lost forever.

  She had bought herself minutes. Maybe less.

  The room spun. Her eyelids felt like they were weighed with iron. She fought the pull of the void. She had to.

  No consciousness, no magic. That was the rule. If she blacked out, the ice would vanish. She would wake up a cripple—if she woke up at all.

  “Geni…” she cried out. Her voice echoed back. A ragged, desperate plea. “Someone… please, help…”

  As her vision started to blur, she saw someone in a beautiful sea-blue dress approach her.

  “My-my…” high-pitched voice echoed through the room. “Bella really did a number on you, didn’t she?” She crouched down, stepping directly into the pool of blood with her expensive heels. She picked up Mizuki’s hands, the crimson dripping onto the fine silk of her lap.

  “No…” Mizuki let out a groan. “Your dress, it is now tainted.”

  The figure tilted her head for Mizuki to see.

  It was Elara Vane, Rank 5.

  She was smiling. A gentle smile, not at all like Bella’s.

  “Don’t worry about that. Blood is just water. The water in a river is the same as water in the ocean. In the same way, the blood of a Named is the same as the blood of a Nameless. Or even other races. Don’t be ashamed of bleeding, child. It proves you are alive.”

  Mizuki looked at her hands. The ice was gone. In its place, a sphere of water encased her wounds. She felt the liquid dragging the tendons back into place, knitting the nerves. It wasn’t painful. It was warm. Calming.

  Mizuki was drifting to sleep, feeling safe. She carefully shifted her position and placed her head on the piece of floor void of blood.

  “Interesting.” Elara’s voice was concerning. “My healing isn’t usually this slow.”

  That was the last thing she heard before falling into darkness.

  ***

  Meanwhile, the arena was a blur of violence.

  Laurent unleashed a barrage of punches, his fists moving so fast they looked like pistons in an overdriven engine. He hadn’t activated Heavy Metal; he was relying purely on human density to maximize velocity.

  Thud. Thud. Thud-thud-thud.

  A pink disk flickered in and out of existence, intercepting every strike with millisecond precision. Sparks of pink energy flew like welding slag.

  Behind the barrier, Noll was sweating bullets. The humidity inside his defensive radius was rising. I never had to hold the defense for this long. He’s not slowing down.

  “Your resistance…” Laurent grinned, a string of saliva drooling from his mouth as he hammered the barrier. “Is arousing. It makes me wanna try harder.”

  Noll’s face visibly cringed. The audience in the front rows murmured, unsettled by the raw, sexualized aggression radiating from the Noble.

  “I am very concerned,” Noll muttered, his eyes darting to track Laurent’s fists. “Are all Named like this?”

  “Nope.” Laurent suddenly switched lanes, his boots screeching against the stone as he flanked Noll from the left.

  The disk snapped to the side instantly.

  “Just me!” Laurent roared.

  He punched the disk, bracing his joints for the familiar shock of impact. He expected hardness. He prepared for resistance. Instead, he met… nothing.

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  The disk didn't clang; it squished. It looked like a pillow but felt like viscous dough, engulfing Laurent’s arm up to the elbow. The momentum he had built up had nowhere to go.

  Noll appeared near his ear, his voice a cold whisper amidst the chaos. “Then I will deny you your pleasure.”

  Laurent’s eyes widened. “Didn’t know you were a talkative g—”

  The pink pillow expanded and heaved, launching Laurent across the arena like a ragdoll. He tumbled through the air, flailing.

  On the other end of the battlefield, Illian was frantically backpedaling, hovering just out of reach.

  “Come back down and fight me,” X said, his voice bored. He swung his longsword casually, batting away incoming laser beams as if they were annoying flies.

  “Fool! I shall maintain my distance to exploit your lack of range!” Illian shouted, sounding like a textbook. He was so focused on kiting the swordsman that he didn’t check his six.

  Laurent couldn’t control his flight path. Illian couldn’t see behind him. The audience gasped. A few started laughing before impact even happened.

  CRASH.

  It sounded like a strike in a bowling alley. Limbs tangled, mana flared, and two high-ranking Nobles collapsed into a heap of expensive fabric and bruised egos against the arena wall.

  “Strike.” Noll smirked.

  The crowd erupted into laughter. The tension of the duel evaporated instantly.

  Noll walked over to X, wiping sweat from his brow. “I am having fun at this point.”

  X scoffed, keeping his eyes on the dust cloud. “That applies only to you. Do you know how frustrating it is to fight an airborne opponent?”

  “Couldn’t be me.” Noll let out a dry laugh. “I usually just shoot them down.”

  “Well then, give me your blaster. Since you don’t need it.”

  “You would sooner shoot yourself in the face.” Noll crossed his arms.

  Their banter was cut short by a scream of pure, unadulterated rage.

  “GET OFF ME!”

  A shockwave of blue mana detonated from the crash site, blowing away the dust and debris. The laughter in the stands died instantly. Laurent and Illian stepped out of the haze. Illian’s glasses were crooked; Laurent looked like a wild animal woken from hibernation.

  “Laurent! For the love of the Goddess, please fight the brute! I will take the small one, like we intended!”

  “No.” Laurent didn't even look at him. He lunged at Noll, dragging the fight to the far side of the arena.

  Illian rubbed his eyes in frustration, vibrating with stress. Then, he stopped. An oily smile crept onto his face. He looked at X.

  “I propose a truce.” He extended his hand. “You help me restrain him, and you can fight Laurent, while I take on the small one. Deal?”

  X’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at the chaos unfolding behind him. “Does that mean you are a failure of a leader?” X’s voice was dripping with venom.

  Illian’s eye twitched, but his smile remained fixed.

  Across the arena, Laurent launched himself at Noll with a wind-up haymaker. The pink disk materialized to block.

  “Got me once, shame on you.” Laurent suddenly kicked the ground, aborting the punch. “Got me twice, shame on me!”

  He used the momentum to launch himself upward, executing a perfect backflip over the barrier. He landed directly in Noll’s blind spot.

  “Let’s see if you can take it from behind!” He lunged.

  At the exact same moment, a blue laser beam—courtesy of Illian—split in mid-air, curving around X to target Noll.

  Pincer attack.

  For the first time in the entire fight, Noll didn’t block. He jumped. He threw himself sideways, rolling across the stone floor.

  “Huh?” Laurent’s manic grin faltered.

  As Laurent prepared a follow-up, the pink disk transformed into a spear, hooking his clothes and dragging him violently to the other side of the arena.

  X caught Noll as he scrambled to his feet. The boy was pale, his chest heaving. “I tried blocking it,” X whispered, horrified. “But the ray split in two right after I did. I am sorry.”

  “No,” Noll coughed, a wet, rattling sound. “It’s okay.”

  “He almost hit you.”

  “Yet he didn’t. That’s the only thing that matters right now.” Noll broke free and moved up, though his legs were shaking.

  Laurent walked forward. The manic smile was gone. His face was a mask of terrifying seriousness. He looked at Noll. He looked at the fading pink particles. Then, Laurent started laughing. It wasn't a taunt. It was the sound of a scientist discovering a cure.

  “I finally found a way to crack your wall.” Laurent shook his arms out, loosening the muscles.

  “Mind sharing?” Noll raised his hands, trying to hide the tremor in his fingers.

  “First, I have to check the correctness of my hypothesis.” Laurent turned his head without breaking eye contact. “Illian!”

  Illian froze, shocked at being addressed.

  “Please. Let me do this.”

  The crowd went silent. The plea wasn't desperate; it was professional. Illian lowered his hand, sensing the shift in the air. “Fine. Just this once. Then, we switch back.”

  “Thank you.”

  Laurent dropped down. He placed his palms on the stone, digging his boots into the cracks of the floor. It was a sprinter’s stance.

  X surged forward to intervene, but a blinding blue ray slammed into his chest, hurling him backward.

  BOOM.

  The ground pulverized. Laurent kicked back with the force of a hydraulic press, sending a massive cloud of crushed stone and grit directly into Noll’s face.

  Visual obstruction, Noll thought, panic spiking in his chest. I can’t see him!

  A blur cut through the dust on the right. A haymaker. Noll didn't think. Instinct took over. Block Right! The pink disk snapped into existence, waiting for the impact.

  But nothing came.

  Laurent’s density shifted back to normal. The massive inertia vanished instantly. With his weight restored to that of a mere human, he arrested his momentum, the "haymaker" dissolving into a harmless drift.

  A feint? Noll’s brain screamed. Did he figure out the delay too?

  Laurent kicked the ground again, launching himself to the left. Noll’s eyes tracked the movement. There is no place to run. I have to block it myself. He raised his gloved left hand as a last shield.

  But Laurent was already there. He didn’t increase his density. He kept it light, sacrificing power for pure, unadulterated speed. The velocity loss would allow the pink disk to return.

  Laurent punched the abdomen.

  Noll moved his gloved left hand to intercept, but the kinetic force bypassed his guard completely. The sound was sickening. Like a butcher slamming a slab of meat onto a counter.

  WHAM.

  Noll’s feet left the ground.

  CRACK. The sound of ribs shattering echoed through the silent arena.

  He spat a mouthful of blood, his eyes rolling back as the air was forcibly ejected from his lungs. This was the first time Noll had taken a direct hit. Laurent was the first person to bypass the Absolute Defense.

  The pink disk, acting on auto-pilot, transformed into a plushy cushion against the far wall, catching Noll’s limp body before his skull could crack against the stone.

  Laurent stood in the center of the arena. His breathing was heavy, ragged gasps tearing through his throat. Sweat dripped from his nose. His eyes were dilated, darting around in a frenzy.

  He walked forward, spreading his hands as he lifted his head to the sky.

  “I…” his voice was jagged, trembling with a disturbing ecstasy. “I t-think… I just came.”

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