The tension in the arena was palpable as the tournament entered its final stages. Only eight students remained, each of them battered and bruised from the previous rounds. The crowd, now fully invested in the outcomes, had grown silent, their anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Everyone knew that these final rounds would determine not just who would emerge victorious, but who would leave Edgar and Rodger School with their place—and perhaps their lives—intact.
Jain, Ryen, and Jorel stood together, their expressions grim. They had fought hard to reach this point, but the toughest battles were still ahead. The final rounds would test not only their skills and endurance but their very will to survive.
As the names for the semifinal matches were announced, Jain's heart sank. She was up first, facing one of the strongest emotional pain users left in the tournament—a boy from Falcon House with a reputation for overwhelming his opponents with waves of unbearable sorrow and despair.
Jain took a deep breath, steeling herself as she stepped into the arena. The Falcon House student stood across from her, his expression cold and calculating. She could already feel the weight of his magic pressing down on her, like an invisible hand squeezing her heart.
The match began, and the boy wasted no time. He unleashed a torrent of emotional pain magic, flooding the arena with a thick, oppressive atmosphere of grief. The air seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, the weight of it pressing down on Jain's shoulders, slowing her movements and clouding her thoughts.
The boy's magic was like a living thing, wrapping around her, seeping into her mind, filling her with an overwhelming sense of loss. Images of her family flashed before her eyes—her parents, her siblings, each of them looking at her with disappointment and disdain. Their voices echoed in her mind, each word a dagger to her heart.
"You're a failure, Jain…"
"You'll never be good enough…"
"Why can't you be like the rest of us?"
Jain staggered, her knees buckling under the weight of the emotions that threatened to crush her. The barrier magic she had relied on so heavily felt distant, like a lifeline slipping through her fingers. The sorrow was too much, too intense, and she struggled to summon the energy to fight back.
The Falcon House student watched her with a smirk, confident in his victory. He pressed the attack, sending wave after wave of despair crashing into her, each one more intense than the last. Jain's vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, the pain in her heart becoming too much to bear.
But somewhere deep inside, a spark of defiance flickered. She couldn't let it end like this. She had come too far, fought too hard, to be defeated now. Jain gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus on the pain, to channel it into something she could use.
With a trembling hand, she summoned her barriers, layering them one by one. The energy crackled weakly around her, the barriers struggling to hold under the weight of the emotional onslaught. But she refused to let them break. She poured every ounce of pain, every drop of sorrow, into her magic, fortifying the barriers, strengthening them.
The boy's smirk faltered as he saw Jain's barriers holding firm. He increased the intensity of his attacks, the air around them thickening with the raw power of his emotions. But Jain held on, her barriers a fragile but unwavering shield against the storm of grief.
Finally, with a scream of defiance, Jain unleashed all the energy she had left. The barriers exploded outward, sending a shockwave of pain rippling through the arena. The force of the blast caught the boy off guard, sending him stumbling back. Jain seized the opportunity, launching herself at him with a surge of adrenaline.
But her strength was waning. The emotional toll had left her drained, her body weak and trembling. As she closed the distance between them, the boy recovered, his eyes narrowing in anger. He sent one final, overwhelming wave of despair crashing into her, and this time, Jain couldn't hold on.
Her barriers shattered, the energy dispersing into the air like smoke. Jain cried out as the force of the attack sent her crashing to the ground, her body convulsing with the weight of the emotions. She tried to stand, but her limbs refused to obey, the despair too heavy to fight against.
The Falcon House student loomed over her, his expression one of cold satisfaction. He raised his hand, ready to deliver the final blow, but the match was called before he could strike. Jain had lost.
As the crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and murmurs, Jain was carried off the field, her vision fading as she slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw was the concerned faces of her friends as they rushed to her side, their voices distant and muffled.
Ryen watched as Jain was taken away, his heart pounding with fear and anger. He wanted to help her, but there was nothing he could do now. He had to focus on his own match, which was coming up next. But the image of Jain lying broken on the ground stayed with him, a constant reminder of what was at stake.
Ryen's opponent was none other than Drain VanHeart, the arrogant physical pain user who had made it his mission to torment Jorel since the start of the school year. Drain stood in the center of the arena, his posture relaxed, but his eyes gleamed with malice.
Ryen knew this fight would be the hardest yet. Drain was stronger, faster, and more experienced than anyone Ryen had faced before. But Ryen also knew he had to win, not just for himself, but for Jain, for Jorel, and for Raven House. He couldn't afford to lose.
The match began, and Drain wasted no time. He charged at Ryen with a speed that took him by surprise, his fists glowing with the energy of his pain magic. Each strike was precise, aimed at weak points in Ryen's defenses. Ryen barely managed to dodge the first few blows, but Drain was relentless, his attacks coming faster and harder with each passing second.
Ryen tried to create some distance, using his support magic to bolster his defenses, but Drain was on him in an instant. A powerful kick sent Ryen sprawling to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Drain was there, his foot pressing down on Ryen's chest, pinning him to the ground.
"You're nothing, Ryen," Drain sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just a weakling hiding behind your friends. You don't belong here."
Ryen gasped for breath, his mind racing. He could feel the bones in his chest creaking under the pressure of Drain's foot, the pain searing through his body. But he refused to give up. He reached deep inside, drawing on the emotions that had fueled his support magic during his training.
He thought of Jain, lying broken and unconscious, and of Jorel, fighting to prove himself in a school that had constantly pushed him down. He thought of all the pain they had endured, all the struggles they had faced together. And he realized that he couldn't let them down. Not now. Not ever.
With a surge of energy, Ryen focused all the pain he was feeling into a single point, reversing it and channeling it back into Drain. The shift in the energy was subtle at first, just a small tug in the flow of pain, but it caught Drain off guard. For a split second, the smug look on Drain's face faltered, replaced by confusion as the pain he was inflicting on Ryen began to rebound on him.
Ryen didn't let up. He pushed harder, amplifying the pain as he reversed it, forcing it back into Drain with a vengeance. The pain was real, physical, and it was not something Drain had expected. Drain's grip on Ryen's chest loosened as he staggered back, his eyes wide with shock and rage.
But Drain was not someone who could be easily defeated. With a snarl, he retaliated, sending a surge of his own pain magic back at Ryen. The force of it was overwhelming, driving Ryen to his knees, his vision blurring with the intensity of the pain. But Ryen held on, refusing to let go of the energy he had reversed. It was a battle of wills now, each of them pushing the pain back and forth, trying to gain the upper hand.
For a moment, it seemed like neither of them would give in. The arena was silent, the crowd holding its breath as they watched the two students locked in a deadly struggle. But then, with a roar of anger, Drain broke the stalemate. He channeled all his remaining strength into a final, brutal attack.
The pain exploded through Ryen's body, every nerve ending on fire. He cried out as the force of the attack sent him crashing to the ground. His vision swam, his limbs trembling uncontrollably. But even as he fell, Ryen could see that Drain was not unscathed. The reversal had taken its toll on him, leaving him weakened and unsteady.
Ryen's strength was fading fast, but he knew he had to do something.