Chiaki’s POV
W-What... what am I even witnessing right now?
At first glance, I genuinely thought this had to be so kind of staged demonstration. A coordinated display. Maybe so absurdly high-level training exercise ant to impress us. That would’ve made sense. That would’ve been safe.
But the way the air trembled... the way the ground beneath us subtly vibrated with every clash...
This wasn’t a performance.
For so reason, every single hair on my body stood on end, as if my instincts were screaming at to run. My throat felt dry. My chest tight. I couldn’t even blink properly.
It was like watching two massive storms crash against each other in the middle of the sky. It was violent, deafening, and unstoppable. Not just colliding, but devouring. Each storm trying to swallow the other whole. Trying to dominate. Trying to beco the one true calamity left standing. And the terrifying part? Neither one was giving an inch.
The pressure between them was suffocating.
It was beautiful.
And it was absolutely terrifying.
"W-We need to find cover," I finally managed to say, my voice thinner than I would’ve liked. "If we just stand here, we might end up in serious trouble."
My students, however, didn’t even flinch. Their eyes were glued to the battlefield like this was the final episode of so ani they’d been waiting months to see.
"I don’t think that’s necessary, sensei," Sakai-san replied calmly, not even looking at . Her gaze remained locked forward. "It feels like that person wouldn’t allow the fight to go further than what he intended..."
I followed her line of sight.
He was doing it again.
While clashing head-on with the Vice Commander, he was simultaneously reconstructing the barrier that had been destroyed earlier. Magic formations shimred into existence, weaving together like threads of light, restoring what had been shattered, without him even turning his head.
Who fights at that level and multitasks?
It was almost insulting.
It was like he was saying, Go ahead. Watch. This is nothing.
"It’s like he’s telling us to watch him..." Sakai-san muttered, voicing the exact thought I didn’t dare say aloud.
More than anything, I wanted to prioritize their safety. That was my responsibility. I should’ve forced them to retreat. I should’ve dragged them sowhere safer, even if they protested.
But I understood them.
This wasn’t just a fight. This was a lesson.
One day, they might have to face sothing like this. An enemy this overwhelming. This composed. This absurdly powerful.
The thought made my stomach twist.
I didn’t want that future for them.
I wanted them fighting manageable opponents. Or better yet, just them passing exams and complaining about howork. Not asuring themselves against monsters disguised as humans. Or even monsters themselves.
But we weren’t in a world where we could choose our battles.
If we wanted to survive, we had to learn. And if we had to learn, then this—this terrifying clash of titans—was the clearest example we would ever get.
As I continued watching, my mind struggled to process what my eyes were seeing. Every movent bent logic. Every exchange felt like sothing pulled straight out of fiction.
It genuinely felt unreal.
And yet, the wind against my face and the trembling earth beneath reminded that this was very, very real.
Slowly, without even realizing it, I lowered myself to sit beside my students.
If they were going to watch... then I would watch too.
***
Yuuto’s POV
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my lungs started burning.
My fists were clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms, but I didn’t loosen them.
It wasn’t excitent.
It wasn’t awe.
It was frustration.
A heavy, crushing frustration that pressed down on my chest.
Because no matter how incredible this fight was... I couldn’t shake the thought that I might never reach that level.
We were always told the sa thing. Heroes have no ceilings. Heroes don’t plateau. Heroes keep growing.
But watching this?
It felt like staring at a mountain that pierced the clouds. And we were barely learning how to walk.
"What the hell even is this? Fights aren’t supposed to look like this! This kind of stuff only happens in manga and ani!" one of my classmates finally blurted out, unable to contain himself.
Honestly... he said what all of us were thinking.
The speed. The power. The control.
It felt like soone had cranked reality up to maximum settings.
Every spell lit up the battlefield like a festival of destruction. Every clash rang out with a force that made my ears buzz. And yet, despite all of that chaos, both of them moved with terrifying precision.
It wasn’t reckless.
It was calculated.
That was the worst part.
They weren’t struggling.
They weren’t desperate.
They were composed.
Amakawa-kun sat beside , and he was completely silent. His hands were clenched into fists just like mine. His jaw tight. His eyes sharp.
He’d realized it too.
That gap.
That impossible distance between where we stood and where they were.
We kept watching, unable to tear our eyes away. It didn’t matter how dangerous it was. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it looked.
Our eyes were glued to the battlefield.
Because sowhere deep down, even if it hurt to admit...
We wanted to be able to stand there soday.
***
Leon’s POV
Veronica pushed harder.
I could see it in the way her movents sharpened. The way her footwork grew lighter. Even faster.
She was trying to outpace .
But speed alone wouldn’t be enough.
Every ti she accelerated, magic circles flared into existence around her like halos of controlled destruction. One after another, spells were released and hurled toward in rapid succession.
I cut through them cleanly.
Each slash of my blade split the incoming magic in half, the energy dispersing in glowing fragnts before fading into nothing.
She didn’t hesitate.
More circles.
More spells.
The battlefield shimred with overlapping sigils and streaks of light.
I activated Guardian around my body, the protective barrier wrapping around in a tight, luminous layer. The spells collided against it and exploded outward, smoke and sparks erupting around .
For a brief second, my vision was obscured.
And that was all she needed.
Through the smoke, she appeared.
Right in front of .
Her blade was already mid-swing.
The mont her sword struck, Guardian shattered. The impact rang through the air like cracking glass.
I stepped back instantly, avoiding the full force of the blow, and retaliated without pause—unleashing a barrage of magic straight at her.
She retreated with flawless timing.
Dodging. Weaving. Slashing apart the spells that ca too close. Her blade carved through magic itself as if it were nothing more than mist.
Now she was moving at a speed the normal eye couldn’t track.
Even for most trained fighters, she would’ve been nothing more than a blur.
Her acceleration was bordering on absurd.
I watched carefully, analyzing the rhythm of her movent for a split second.
Then I acted.
Wind magic propelled upward, lifting cleanly off the ground. Before she could adjust, I cast Levitation, stabilizing myself midair just as she lunged forward again, with her blade slicing through the space where I had stood a heartbeat earlier.
From above, I launched another relentless bombardnt.
Magic rained down.
Explosions echoed.
The ground fractured under the force.
She was still dodging—but not as cleanly now.
Not as effortlessly.
I could see it.
The faint delay in her steps.
The slight tightening of her shoulders.
The beads of sweat forming on her forehead, catching the light as they slid down.
She was starting to struggle.
And that ant the end was approaching.
It was only a matter of ti before she broke.
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