Ryen's third fight was equally challenging. His opponent was a brutal physical pain user from Falcon House, a student known for his sheer strength and relentless aggression. Ryen knew he couldn't match his opponent in brute force, so he would need to rely on his wits and support magic to win.
The fight began with the Falcon House student charging at Ryen, his fists glowing with the energy of his pain magic. Each strike was powerful enough to shatter bone, and Ryen had to use all his agility to avoid being crushed.
Ryen wasn't just dodging—he was watching, waiting for the right moment to strike. His opponent's attacks were strong but predictable, each punch telegraphed by the way the boy tensed his muscles. Ryen's mind raced as he calculated the timing, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he couldn't take many direct hits, so he had to make each move count.
As the Falcon House student threw another powerful punch, Ryen finally saw his opening. He dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, and quickly channeled his support magic into his legs, giving him a burst of speed. In a swift motion, he moved behind his opponent, striking at the back of the boy's knee with a sharp kick.
The student stumbled, caught off balance, and Ryen didn't waste a second. He brought his hand down on his opponent's back, channeling a wave of support magic into the boy's body. But instead of healing, Ryen reversed the flow, sending a surge of pain into the Falcon House student.
The boy cried out, his muscles locking up as the pain coursed through him. It wasn't enough to incapacitate him fully, but it was enough to give Ryen the upper hand. He pressed the attack, dodging the boy's wild swings and landing precise, targeted blows to his joints and pressure points.
The crowd watched in tense silence as Ryen slowly wore his opponent down, using a combination of support magic and physical strikes to keep the boy off balance. With each successful hit, Ryen could feel his confidence growing, the pain he had absorbed fueling his resolve.
But the Falcon House student was not one to give up easily. With a roar of frustration, he swung wildly at Ryen, catching him off guard. The force of the blow sent Ryen crashing to the ground, his breath knocked out of him. His vision blurred as the pain from the hit radiated through his body.
The Falcon House student loomed over Ryen, his face twisted in anger. "You're done!" he growled, raising his fist for a final, crushing blow.
But Ryen wasn't finished yet. As the boy's fist came down, Ryen rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to push past the pain, and kicked out with his legs, knocking the boy's feet out from under him.
The Falcon House student fell, hitting the ground hard, and Ryen quickly scrambled to his feet. He could see the exhaustion in his opponent's eyes, the way his movements had slowed. Ryen knew this was his chance.
With a burst of energy, Ryen launched himself at the boy, grabbing his arm and channeling all the pain he had absorbed back into him. The boy screamed as the pain overwhelmed him, his body convulsing under the intensity of it.
Ryen didn't let go. He tightened his grip, pouring every last ounce of pain into his opponent until the boy finally went limp, his strength completely drained. The arena fell silent as Ryen released the boy, watching as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Ryen staggered back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He had done it. He had won. The crowd erupted into cheers, but Ryen barely heard them. His vision was swimming, his body trembling with exhaustion. He could feel the toll the fight had taken on him, every muscle in his body screaming in protest.
But he had made it through. He had survived another round.
Jorel watched from the sidelines, a mixture of pride and worry filling his chest as he saw Ryen's victory. His friend had fought hard, but Jorel could see the strain it had put on him. They were all pushing their limits, and the final rounds would push them even further.
Jorel's third fight was next, and he knew it would be his toughest yet. His opponent was a highly ranked emotional pain user from Falcon House, a student known for his ability to manipulate his opponents' minds with terrifying precision. Jorel had heard the stories—how this student could dig into the darkest corners of your mind, bringing your worst fears and memories to the surface until you were too broken to fight back.
But Jorel wasn't afraid. He had faced his fears before, had fought through the darkness and come out the other side. He knew his emotional numbness was both a weakness and a strength, and today, he would use it to his advantage.
As Jorel stepped into the arena, he could feel the intensity of the crowd's gaze on him. His opponent stood across from him, his eyes cold and calculating. The emotional pain user didn't waste any time, immediately launching his attack.
The air around Jorel seemed to thicken, a heavy, oppressive weight settling over him. He could feel the emotional magic pressing in on his mind, trying to worm its way into his thoughts. Images began to flash before his eyes—his parents burning, the twisted figure of his brother, the guilt and sorrow he had buried deep inside.
But instead of succumbing to the emotions, Jorel pushed them aside. He focused on the pain in his body, the physical sensations that grounded him in reality. He could feel the dull ache of his muscles, the sting of the cuts on his skin. He channeled that pain into his Displaced Physical Pain Magic, pushing it outward.
The emotional pain user's eyes widened in surprise as Jorel's magic shot toward him. He had been expecting an easy fight, expecting Jorel to crumble under the weight of his emotional attacks. But Jorel was still standing, still fighting.
Jorel guided the pain with precision, directing it toward his opponent. The pain exploded into sharp slashes, cutting across the boy's arms and chest. The boy hissed in pain, his concentration faltering for a moment.
But he quickly recovered, redoubling his efforts. The emotional onslaught intensified, the weight of the emotions pressing down on Jorel like a vice. The images became more vivid, more real, the voices in his mind louder and more insistent.
"You should have died…"
"It's your fault…"
"You're nothing…"
Jorel gritted his teeth, refusing to let the emotions take hold. He focused on the pain, using it to anchor himself, to keep the emotions at bay. He knew he had to get close, to finish the fight before the boy's magic overwhelmed him.
With a burst of speed, Jorel closed the distance between them. His opponent's eyes widened in alarm as Jorel's twin blades flashed in the dim light of the arena. The boy tried to back away, but Jorel was relentless, his movements swift and precise.
The emotional pain user tried one last desperate attack, sending a wave of crushing sorrow crashing into Jorel. But Jorel's numbness shielded him from the worst of it. The emotions were there, but they were distant, muted, unable to reach the depths of his mind.
With a final, decisive strike, Jorel brought his blades down on his opponent, pinning the boy to the ground. The crowd erupted into cheers as Jorel was declared the winner, but he barely heard them. His mind was still focused on the fight, on the techniques he had used and the lessons he had learned.
As he left the arena, Jorel knew the final rounds would be the most challenging yet. But he also knew that he was ready. He had faced his demons, had fought through the pain, and had come out the other side stronger. Now, it was time to see if he had what it took to be the last one standing.