The void-silk woman reacted first, her form dissolving into layers of folded darkness as she reappeared above him, palms already forming a compression seal ant to crush the soul rather than the body.
Kexell looked up.
He let it hit him.
The seal slamd down, collapsing space around his skull. Bones shattered. His vision burst into static. His neck snapped at an impossible angle.
Pain flooded in.
And instead of slowing him, it fed him.
His spine twisted back into place with a sound like grinding stone. Dark flas surged higher, no longer just burning but howling, reacting to the conversion of pain into raw output.
"Ahh! There we go," Kexell breathed, voice hoarse with pleasure.
He jumped.
Not flew.
Jumped.
The arena plates cracked as he launched upward, crossing the distance in a single bound. His claw tore through the void woman’s torso before she could phase again. The flas clung to her like leeches, eating through her intangibility, forcing her into form.
She scread.
Kexell bit down on her head and tore it off.
The body disintegrated mid-fall.
"Brutal."
"His True Concept is troubleso."
"Unless you kill him with a single strike, he will only grow stronger."
Those watching discussed.
The four-ard giant roared and charged, stone limbs slamming together as seismic force rippled outward. Each step fractured the arena plates, sending chunks spinning into the abyss.
Kexell didn’t dodge.
He ran into it.
A stone fist smashed into his ribs, pulverizing half his torso, but also shattering the giant’s arms as his eyes widened in shock.
Kexell laughed, blood spraying from his mouth.
He drove his head forward as his draconic horns pierced through the giant’s chest. Amplified dark flas exploded outward from the wound, racing along internal channels, igniting the giant from the inside.
The four arms flailed wildly as he was getting obliterated from inside without being able to resist, and in a second, he was burned to ashes.
The bunny swordsman moved next, blade flashing with refined precision, glyphs along its edge igniting as he unleashed a storm of cuts. Each slash bent space, layered with afterimages ant to overwhelm perception.
Kexell took them all.
Dozens of cuts carved him apart, stripping muscle, severing tendons, peeling scales. His body was reduced to sothing barely humanoid.
Pain surged again.
His fra swelled as the damage converted, muscles rebuilding thicker, denser, wrapped in roaring hexfla.
Kexell stepped forward.
The bunny swordsman tried to retreat.
Too late.
Kexell caught the blade barehanded, crushing it with a single squeeze. His other claw punched through the swordsman’s abdon, flas pouring inside.
He tore him in half.
Lightning cracked.
The brute from the second-ranked club struck, descending like a thunderbolt, spear aid straight at Kexell’s skull. At the sa ti, two others coordinated, one freezing space around Kexell’s legs, the other firing a beam of condensed gravity ant to pin him in place.
For the first ti, Kexell staggered.
The spear punched through his head.
The gravity beam crushed his lower body into paste.
His flas flickered.
The three attackers pressed in, unleashing everything they had.
Kexell’s consciousness dimd.
Pain accumulated beyond anything before.
And then it crossed a threshold.
Sothing snapped.
The flas didn’t just grow.
They condensed.
Kexell’s body reford mid-destruction, bones reforging like black steel, muscles layering upon muscles, his presence crushing the air itself.
He grabbed the spear embedded in his skull and pulled.
The lightning brute scread as Kexell yanked him forward and slamd him face-first into the arena floor. Once. Twice. Three tis.
On the fourth, the head stopped being recognizable.
Kexell turned, grabbed the gravity caster, and shoved him into his own beam, amplifying it with raw strength until the man imploded into a sphere of red mist.
The space freezer tried to escape.
Kexell was already there.
One claw through the back.
Flas erased the rest.
Two remained.
Kexell walked toward them slowly, every step cracking the arena.
Their attacks landed in a barrage, desperate, frantic. Cuts. Blasts. Curses.
Alas, he was now utterly unkillable in the realm of Grim Students.
Kexell grinned as he rely punched, unleashing a fist-shaped dark-flad projectile.
It killed one instantly.
The last person didn’t waste any ti.
And kill herself, ending the first battle.
[ Victory — Club Regalon 1 Point ]
On the platform above, the Regalons stared.
"...He’s a monster now," Natalia muttered.
"Always was," Rudra replied, grinning. "Now he’s just honest about it."
Almond’s eyes narrowed, not in concern, but in interest. "Pain is Gain... It suits him too well."
Kexell vanished and arrived back on the Regalon’s platform.
"Did y’all see that?! Bwahahaha!"
But the second battle began without further ado as Grimverse gave ten seconds to choose the next mber to send into the brawl.
This ti, Almond didn’t have to think.
"Bianca. Your turn."
Bianca nodded. "Got it."
The second battle soon began.
Where Kexell had been overwhelming, loud, violent, Bianca was... quiet.
The shadows deepened around her feet.
The battle began the mont the countdown hit zero.
Colorful flashes, booms, and cracks rang.
Bianca didn’t rush. She didn’t initiate an attack on anyone.
She just walked.
Every step seed to blur slightly, her outline trailing half a heartbeat behind her.
The first strike ca from nowhere, a blade aid for her throat, but she could feel the sharpness at her chest.
’Illusionist.’ Bianca’s eyes glinted.
It passed through her.
The Bianca behind it dissolved into smoke.
The real one was already elsewhere.
A whisper brushed the illusionist’s ear.
Then his shadow peeled off the ground and stabbed him through the chest.
Bianca erged from the shadow itself, blade already withdrawing.
The arena reacted, barriers snapping up, detection fields flaring.
Too late.
Bianca’s presence fractured.
Not invisibility.
Multiplicity.
Technique: Twilight Manifold.
She existed in several overlapping positions, each one real until proven otherwise.
The blade-master cut one Bianca in half.
She vanished.
Another Bianca appeared behind him and slit his throat.
"What the hell is going on?!"
"I am sensing the real her in multiple locations. It’s impossible to trace her."
The barrier specialist reinforced defenses.
Bianca stepped inside the barrier, erging from the shadow cast by its own light.
Her dagger pierced his spine.
The remaining fighters panicked.
They tried to regroup.
They never got the chance.
Bianca moved like a thought unbound, every strike precise, efficient, lethal. No wasted motion. No excess force.
When the last enemy fell, the arena was silent again.
Bianca stood at the center, blade clean, shadow settling back beneath her feet.
Almond exhaled slowly, eyes glinting. "That’s interesting. If not for the geneline connection, her True Concept eludes even my Eyes of Truth because all versions of her are true."
"Powerful," Lily said softly.
Bianca looked up, eyes calm, deadly.
True Concept: Parallel Bloom.
An assassin not bound to position, presence, or singular existence.
[ Victory — Club Regalon 1 Point ]
The colosseum pulsed.
Round 3 had only just begun.
And Club Regalon was already ahead.
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