I had clearly seen the symbol of Reincarnation on her, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was Talestia's vessel. But right below it, positioned just slightly lower... she had another weird symbol.
What the hell was it? I racked my brain. I swore I had read about that exact mark somewhere in one of the dusty, ancient tomes back in the Crimson estate's library, but the specific file was frustratingly corrupted in my memory.
And it wasn't just the tattoo. Her aura was a bit different from other standard humans, too. Something was fundamentally strange about her biology. I just needed more time to study her energy signature.
After 1 Hour
We were back out on the sand of the Colosseum. The sun was beating down, and the roar of the crowd was a constant, dull vibration in the air.
Starlia turned to me, giving me a highly skeptical once-over. "Alright," she instructed, taking charge of our nonexistent strategy. "I would take them on whoever will be coming. And you will... um... try to defend, okay?"
Translation: Please try not to die and ruin my flawless victory ratio. Roger that, boss.
"As you say, my princess," I replied, offering an obedient nod.
She paused for a second, seemingly considering my compliance. "As you are my battlemate, you can call me by my name," she offered, delivering the line as if she were bestowing knighthood upon a peasant.
"I'm grateful, Starlia," I said, keeping my tone perfectly subservient.
Across the arena, the heavy iron doors groaned open. I cracked my knuckles, ready to stand back and let her do all the heavy lifting again.
But as the shadows cleared, three people came out of the door. Two men and one woman stepped into the light, drawing their weapons.
A collective gasp rippled through the audience, turning into a murmur of absolute shock. Beside me, Starlia stiffened, completely confused by the headcount.
And honestly? I was confused too. Since when did a 2v2 tag-team match suddenly become a 2v3? Did the Academy's administration skip basic arithmetic, or was the universe just trying to force me to actually do some work today?
My analytical brain quickly caught up, dismissing my initial confusion. The Academy administration didn't fail basic arithmetic; this was an intentional, logistical correction.
When you have an inconsistent number of qualified candidates, you can't run perfect 2v2 brackets all the way down. Plus, pairing the absolute top seed (Starlia) and a supposedly "weak" Stage 2 commoner (me) against a standard duo of mid-tier fighters would be statistically unbalanced. To correct the power scales, the system threw a three-person team at us. A corporate restructuring of the bracket, if you will.
I ran a quick Qi scan on them. All three were at Qi Refinement Stage 2.
Up in the VIP royal box, the King, the Queen, and her older sister were leaning over the balcony, their faces tight with visible worry. The entire audience seemed to be collectively holding their breath. I could practically hear the collective anxiety of the crowd: How can the precious Princess fight three capable cultivators at the same time while dragging around a useless, lowly commoner?
Beside me, Starlia swallowed hard. I could see the slight tremor in her shoulders. She was actually nervous.
Me? I wasn't worried about the trio. I was entirely preoccupied with a far more pressing logistical issue.
On the carriage ride to the Academy, I had spotted a bakery selling these incredible-looking glazed pastries. I was currently running a cost-benefit analysis on whether I should buy one pack or four after this was over. (Definitely four. I have Royal Gold; I can afford the carbs). Oh, and there was that silk tailor shop next door with a dark grey tunic that would perfectly complement my Azure Frost jacket...
The referee raised his hand, signaling the start of the match.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Starlia took a deep breath, steeling herself, and threw an arm out to block my path.
"You don't have to come out now. Stay right here," she commanded, her voice regaining its usual aristocratic edge, though it wavered just a fraction. "When I call you, and only when I call you, will you step in. Do you understand?"
I gave her a sharp, highly enthusiastic nod. "Yep!"
Take all the time you need to be the hero, Princess. Just please, please wrap this up before the bakery closes. If they sell out of those pastries because you wanted to monologue, I will personally throw you into the sun.
The bell rang.
Starlia didn't hesitate. Her sleek, blue-and-white high-grade armor materialized over her dress, and her elegant sword flashed into her hand. She launched herself directly at the three opponents.
On the opposite side, the trio sneered. They looked highly confident, practically smiling as they summoned their familiars. Without missing a beat, they spread out, executing a textbook three-pronged pincer attack, rushing her from different directions.
But Starlia was the Genius of the Century for a reason. With a surge of blue mana, her giant Heavenly Lotus bloomed into the air above her.
The lotus acted like an automated defense turret. It swiveled and unleashed a brutal barrage of concentrated energy beams. The sheer concussive force of the blast caught one of the pairs—an opponent and their beast—dead in their tracks, blowing them backward and breaking the formation.
The remaining two opponents closed the distance, their blades swinging aggressively for Starlia's flanks. She didn't flinch. She parried the first strike with a crisp ring of steel, deflected the second, and immediately shifted her hand signs.
"Lotus Mist!" she shouted.
Physics lesson: to obscure vision effectively, you don't just create smoke; you manipulate the ambient temperature to rapidly condense the moisture in the air, creating a thick, heavy fog. The lotus did exactly that. A massive, rolling wave of dense blue mist erupted from the petals, completely swallowing the arena floor.
The crowd groaned, straining their necks as visibility dropped to zero. The trio of opponents halted, completely disoriented in the blue haze, swinging blindly at shadows.
Starlia, however, knew exactly where she was. Using her own mist as cover, she darted through the fog, launching precise, heavy strikes. Clang. Thud. A groan echoed from the mist as she landed hits on her blinded targets. It was a flawless guerrilla tactic.
But a mist spell has a strict mana duration.
The blue smoke began to thin, dissolving rapidly back into the atmosphere. And the moment the fog cleared, the tactical advantage completely flipped.
Starlia was standing right in the middle of their recovered formation.
Before she could retreat, she was suddenly ambushed from all her blind spots by a coordinated barrage of attacks that were coming right from the trio. And now that the mist had cleared, I finally got a good look at their familiars.
One of the guys commanded a hulking ape beast crackling with raw lightning. The second guy stood beside a heavy, armored fire dragon. But the third opponent—the girl—had the most lethal asset of them all: an Ice Phoenix.
And she was smart. She didn't just attack blindly; she weaponized Starlia's own spell. By drastically dropping the ambient temperature, she flash-froze the residual moisture left behind by the Lotus Mist.
"Icicle Rain!" the girl commanded.
Hundreds of jagged, razor-sharp icicles materialized in the air above, plummeting toward the arena floor like a localized meteor shower of glass.
Starlia reacted instantly, commanding her Lotus to fold its petals upward into a protective dome. It was a solid defensive maneuver, but a barrier is only as strong as its structural integrity. Under the relentless, hammering weight of the falling ice, the lotus petals began to crack. They were getting worn down, shedding mana with every violent impact.
A few icicles broke through the failing shield. Starlia gasped as the ice grazed her arms and sides, drawing blood.
But the icicles were just a distraction.
While her focus was locked upward, the Fire Dragon blitzed her from her blind spot. It came crashing into her flank like a flaming battering ram. The kinetic impact was brutal. Starlia was thrown off her feet, launched violently into the mid-air.
Her magnificent Blue Lotus? Completely beaten to shreds, dissolving into useless blue sparks.
The trio wasn't done. The Lightning Ape used the opening. It coiled its massive legs and jumped, soaring up to meet Starlia in the air. Its fists sparked with high-voltage electricity, raised high to deliver a devastating, bone-crushing smash.
She was defenseless. The math was simple: she was going to get crushed.
"Starlia," I said, my voice cutting cleanly through the noise of the arena. "You need my help."
"Not now!" she gritted out, twisting in mid-air, desperately trying to summon another spell.
(Seriously?) I thought, watching the electrified ape close the distance. (Corporate pride is a fatal flaw when your company is literally going bankrupt in three seconds.)
"It will smash you," I stated firmly, dropping the polite peasant act entirely. "It's not time for your pride."
"What did you say?!" she snapped, her aristocratic fury flaring even as she plummeted toward a massive concussion.
"Call my name!" I shouted, my voice carrying a sudden, commanding weight.
The ape reached her altitude. It locked its massive fists together, electricity arcing wildly as it prepared to bring the hammer down.
Time seemed to slow. Starlia squeezed her eyes shut. The reality of the situation finally pierced through her ego.
(I now know, Serelya,) she thought, her internal panic broadcasting across her face. (I know what you were saying. It's not about power and pride. It's about teamwork. Teamwork made them beat me so easily. But now...)
"Ragna!" Starlia screamed.
Permission granted.
I raised my head. The useless, submissive commoner mask I had been wearing all day shattered completely. My expression went deadpan. Serious. Cold.
My eyes ignited, glowing with a piercing, unnatural blue light.
"It's battle time," I said, my voice dropping an octave, resonating with a deep, chilling calm.