The masked cameraman moved gracefully in the air, his deep-blue mask bearing the glowing letter C, his six orbiting cameras shifting angles with machine-like precision.
He zoomed in for close-ups — dramatic sweeps of Valerius’ jaw, the woman’s predatory grin as she stalked forward, the flicker of Bravo lightning crawling across their skin.
Both Valerius and the woman felt his presence. They knew they were being recorded — known, watched, displayed to millions — but neither spared him a glance. This was war.
---
The Chain
With a sharp crack of energy, a long red chain of pure Bravo burst from the woman’s hand, snaking through the air before clamping onto Valerius’ torso like a living serpent.
Valerius snarled, muscles flexing as he tried to tear it off — but it held firm, burning against his skin.
“Break,” he growled.
It didn’t.
The woman smirked. “Come on, you can do better than that. Don’t make this boring, I'm already exited.”
She spun on her heel, twisting her body like a dancer, and the chain whipped Valerius into motion, spinning him in a dizzying arc as if he were nothing but a flail.
BOOOOOM.
She kicked off the very air, diving at blinding speed, spinning the chain as Valerius became her blade.
And then —
SLAM.
The ground imploded.
Stone vaporized as she drove Valerius into the earth like a meteor, carving a crater so deep it roared like a hollow drum. But she didn’t stop. She dragged him along the ground like a spinning saw, slicing a path through mountains.
One. Two. Three. Six.
By the time she flung him free, Valerius’ body had torn through six mountains, pulverizing them into dust.
He burst from the sixth, coughing blood, before catching himself midair — only for her shadow to eclipse him.
---
The Slam
The woman descended like a hawk, her knee drawn high.
“Above you.”
WHAM.
Her knee slammed into his gut with seismic force.
Valerius spat a stream of blood, his body folding around the impact as he was hurled down, down, down into the earth.
He didn’t just fall.
He crashed — burrowing nearly 900 kilometers deep, tearing through layer after layer of rock until his body came to rest in the sunless dark.
The collateral damage was catastrophic.
Entire sections of the battlefield crumbled. Hundreds of challengers died instantly, obliterated by the shockwaves of their clash.
Far away, Ziraiah and Eliana flew back desperately, shielding themselves as the shockwave howled past like a hurricane.
---
The Roar
Valerius screamed.
It wasn’t the roar of a man.
It was a beast’s roar, Bravo-infused and primal, shaking the very battlefield.
The sound clawed its way to the woman’s ears on the surface.
“You even know Manifestus Bravo?” Valerius’ voice echoed up from the depths, a guttural growl mixed with laughter.
“Even I haven’t learned that yet.”
His voice warped as he prepared himself, the cadence less man with every word.
---
The Severed Land
Valerius bent his knees deep within the earth, crossing his arms into a X-shape.
Then he extended them outward.
CRACK.
The ground split.
BOOOOOM.
He dug his fingers into the rock, fortifying it with Bravo until his hands sank into the bones of the world itself. And then — he lifted.
The surface itself began to rise.
Entire slabs of land trembled and split as Valerius roared, the raw sound tearing through the air. Sweat poured down his face. His canines sharpened into fangs.
The land groaned as he heaved it upward, tearing away a chunk the size of a city with the woman still standing upon it.
With one monstrous push, he flipped the severed landmass like a table, overturning it completely — and slammed it down.
KRRRRAAAAASSHHHH.
The battlefield quaked as the overturned land crushed everything beneath it.
The woman’s body vanished beneath tons of stone.
---
The Counter
But she was far from finished.
CRACK.
She burst through the rock like a missile, stone and dust exploding around her.
“Please,” she said, her voice calm but edged.
Before Valerius could react, she grabbed his face and slammed it into the ground, shattering the rock as she launched him skyward like a ragdoll.
---
The Sky Duel
Valerius righted himself midair, wiping blood from his lip.
“You're good, really good” he muttered, grinning.
The woman rocketed toward him, Bravo chains flickering around her arms like living whips.
The cameraman followed.
He moved like water, gliding and flipping through the air, the world his stage. His cameras darted around them like insects, catching every strike from impossible angles.
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Valerius slashed his hand through the air. BRAVO BLADES erupted from his swing, green arcs of destruction slicing the sky.
She deflected them all with her bare hands, each parry ringing like metal against metal.
One stray Bravo slash shredded the cameraman’s shoulder camera — but before it even fell, a futuristic, mechanical lens unfolded from his arm, humming as it came online.
He kept filming.
---
The Clash
They fought in the clouds, turning the heavens into a warzone.
The woman punched Valerius, sending him spinning through the mist.
He caught himself, crouched in midair — and leapt.
They charged, tearing the sky apart with speed no mortal could follow.
Their fists cocked back, vibrating with power.
“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”
They roared together, and—
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
They punched each other in the face at the same instant.
Thunder cracked. Green and red lightning exploded outward. A massive wave of energy erupted from the impact, rolling across the entire Crucible like a tidal wave.
Every challenger stopped.
---
In the dark chamber, the Seer projection flickered as the wave passed through the very walls.
The man in white — silent until now — stood up slowly.
“They have… Cry?”
His voice was low, controlled, yet it cut through the chamber like a blade.
He didn’t even flinch.
He simply remained standing, hands clasped behind his back, his mask reflecting the dim glow of the Seer, as if the overwhelming force was nothing more than a passing breeze.
Several masked nobles screamed, clutching their heads as veins bulged beneath their skin. Others trembled violently, collapsing into their seats or onto the floor. Some endured, their heavy breathing betraying the strain of keeping upright. While a few were unaffected
---
On the battlefield, Kaelan, Elsa, Juvian, and Isabela collapsed to their knees, their bodies trembling under the unseen force passing through them.
Isabela groaned, clutching her chest.
“Agh… my body… it hurts…”
She glanced at her hand — her veins were glowing, stark and visible through her skin, pulsing like living threads of fire.
Ziraiah crumpled next, dropping to her knees with a pained groan. She bit her lip to stifle a scream, sweat pouring down her brow as the invisible force raked through her body.
Even Eryndor, who had been watching from high above, was not spared. He staggered in midair before falling to the ground
He got up on one knee, his elegant composure cracking for the first time.
His voice was low, edged with shock.
“What… is this?”
He raised his hand slowly. His veins bulged grotesquely beneath his skin, glowing faintly, throbbing like they might burst.
Those without Bravo had no defense against Cry.
---
Even the cameraman bled from his nose and mouth behind the mask.
His body convulsed midair.
“AAAGHHHH!”
He fell.
But before he hit the ground, he teleported, reappearing in a kneeling position on solid ground.
He panted heavily, one hand on his chest, the other gripping the dirt as his cameras kept filming, still hovering like loyal sentinels.
His mask clattered against the ground.
Even downed, he whispered hoarsely:
“Keep… filming.”
And the cameras obeyed.
> “WHOOOOAAA—ohhh, okay, THAT… was unexpected!” Balling’s voice cracked over the Crucible, half-laughing, half-screeching. “Did anyone else feel that?! Because I think my SOUL just did a backflip
---
Valerius and the silver-haired woman plummeted from the heavens like broken comets, their unconscious bodies limp as they tore through the clouds.
BOOOOOOOOM.
They hit the ground with enormous force, cratering the battlefield twice over — two massive impact zones, each twenty meters wide, smoking and steaming from the sheer violence of their fall.
> “Hmmm,” Balling’s voice sang lazily, as though announcing a carnival game. “Well… looks like they knocked each other out.”
Above the arena, the glowing runes swirled, rearranging into a single, simple word:
> DRAW
> “A draw!” Balling gasped in mock shock. “Huh. That’s new. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”
A pause, then a soft laugh. “Looks like the island’s a mess. Oh well. Not like I care.”
---
Far away, Eryndor collapsed to one knee as he tried to stand, his body trembling as he steadied himself with one hand against the fractured ground. His breath came in ragged bursts, his emerald eyes dimmed with exhaustion.
“What… manner of affliction… has come upon me?” he muttered, his tone sharp but strained.
The Cry had drained him almost completely, forcing him to resort to words to cast his spells.
“Search,” he whispered.
A translucent field expanded from his body in a shimmering pulse, spanning miles. He closed his eyes and felt.
Valerius.
Unconscious, but alive.
The woman.
Next to him.
And—
Ziraiah.
Eryndor exhaled a long, shaky breath of relief.
---
Festitude Academy — Tertiary Boys’ Dorm
The dorm was chaos. Dozens of boys were still reeling from the Cry when the Seers replayed the fight in slow motion.
“I didn’t see shit!” one boy yelled, throwing his arms up. “What the hell kind of fight was that?!”
The replay began — Valerius and the woman’s final clash slowed frame by frame, the impact captured from multiple angles. Even at their unimaginable speed, the cameraman had recorded them perfectly.
The room fell silent as the dormitory watched, entranced.
---
The Mother Waver
Pungence sat before the massive Seer, his colossal frame unmoving as the replay finished. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
“Finally,” he said, his voice low and certain. “I have found you. To think… you’ve already learned Bravo.”
A woman with long pink hair, lounging casually beside him, raised an eyebrow.
“So that’s the kid you keep talking about? How the hell did he become this strong in just three years?”
Pungence’s smile widened slightly.
“Those children are truly exceptional.”
“Too bad,” the woman replied, her tone sharp and cutting. “If he knows Bravo, that means he has a teacher. Sorry, Pungence.”
CRACK.
The armrest of his chair gave way under his grip, splintering in his hand.
The woman smirked.
“At least you still have the other two, right?”
“They’re mages,” Pungence said flatly.
“Oh,” she replied with mock sympathy. “Unlucky.”
---
The Seer Room of Many Eyes
In another place — a strange chamber filled with humming devices and countless Seers — a man with piercing green eyes watched the replay.
He laughed. Long. Loud.
“Unbelievable. That little twerp…” He grinned wide, stepping closer to the Seer. “To have reached this level in three years. It took me forty-five.”
He kept laughing, shaking his head.
“You’re truly an anomaly. And I thought your brother was impressive.”
As the final clash replayed again, his expression turned solemn — almost reverent.
“Grow stronger, boy. I knew you would bring madness to this world… looks like you’ve just begun.”
---
The Giant Village
The village square of the giants erupted in cheers as the Seers replayed the clash. The air was thick with the scent of burning torches and roasted game, their deep, thunderous voices echoing across the stone walls.
Alvatik’s booming laughter rose above the noise.
“That’s my boy!” he bellowed, slapping his massive hand against his thigh with pride.
Beverik, ever the gruff one, crossed his enormous arms and grunted.
“Too bad he couldn’t beat her,” he said flatly. “He’s still weak. When he returns, we’ll need to triple his training.”
Near the edge of the gathering, Esky stood with arms folded, her sharp eyes fixed on the glowing Seer projection. Her tone was measured, thoughtful.
“That woman… something’s off about her. She looks Aurellian, but I’m not convinced. And she didn’t even use her weapon.”
A young boy, barely coming up to Esky’s waist, huffed and folded his own hands stubbornly.
“If he’d used Thunder Cracker, he would’ve won easily.”
Esky shot him a side-eye glare.
“I told him not to draw that sword unless he’s willing to kill.”
From behind them, Sikovik snorted, his tusked grin wide.
“Maybe he fell for her pretty face.”
The boy’s cheeks puffed up indignantly.
“Can you blame him? She is gorgeous. If only she were a giant…”
He trailed off, his expression shifting to something almost mischievous. His gaze turned to Esky.
“Can I borrow that ring? The one that changes your size?”
Esky didn’t even look at him.
“No.”
The boy groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.
“Ugh, you’re so selfish.”
Sikovik barked out a laugh, patting the boy on the head with a hand that nearly crushed him.
“Get in line kid, we've been asking since before you were born.”
The group roared with laughter, but their eyes quickly turned back to the Seer. Their amusement didn’t hide their growing curiosity — and unease — about the silver-haired woman.
---
Elsewhere
In a darkened room filled with faint blue light, a man sat alone. He leaned back in his chair, his silver hair glinting faintly in the glow of his Seer.
The footage played — Valerius, alive.
“He’s alive?” the man said quietly. Then, after a pause, a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Perhaps I should’ve blown that place to nothingness. Oh well. Pungence owing me is still a better outcome.”
He picked up a sleek, rune-etched communicator and spoke into it.
“Hey. I need you to go kill some Elvheins for me.”
To Be Continued…
