Mechanius had leaped back, putting distance between himself and Onilia, his glowing blue eyes locked on her with laser focus, his Galaxium limbs humming as he braced for her attack. He didn't want to miss the timing, didn't want to be caught off guard. But Onilia's gaze had drifted, her eyes flicking toward Zane, lingering just long enough to unsettle him.
'What's her deal? Still pissed I didn't pick her?' Zane thought, his sharp eyes meeting hers, his blank expression hiding the gears turning in his mind.
"I'm ready, Miss Onilia, you may—" Mechanius began, but the words died in his throat. Onilia was already there, her fist screaming toward him before he could blink. Driven by instinct, he crossed his Galaxium arms to block, but her punch slammed into them with catastrophic force, bending the metal inward like crumpled foil. The impact smashed his arms into his chest, sending him hurtling backward, a shockwave ripping through the plain, kicking up clouds of rust-colored dust that stung the eyes. He crashed into the crowd, straight into Nenis, who caught him mid-air with one hand, her two uncovered eyes—never leaving Onilia. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed him aside, his body hitting the ground like a broken machine.
"Un-fucking-real," a trainee stammered, staring at Mechanius's crumpled form, his bent arms twisted like scrap. "Look at that damage. One punch did that?"
Mechanius's breaths came in ragged gasps, blood dripping onto the cracked ground. 'I leaped back a great distance to prepare, kept my crystal eyes on her—how the hell did she close that distance?' he thought. 'And that strength… my body's modified with Galaxium, but one hit wrecked me.' He struggled to sit up, his wounds already starting to knit, Zoic's strange healing properties kicking in.
"He's done for," another trainee said, shaking his head. "One attack, and he's toast."
"Of course he is," a third trainee snapped, his voice thick with resentment as he glanced at Zane. "Why do you think nobody's touched that annoying-ass weakling? It's because he's got one hell of a guardian like her watching his back."
Instructor Marius stepped forward, his dark cloak settling against the crimson sky, his voice cutting through the murmurs with a steady, commanding tone. "That's the end of this round. Onilia earns one hundred points as the victor. Now, Onilia, how many points will you award Mechanius?" Every eye turned to her, the plain falling silent, the red-tinted sky casting a bloody glow over the scene.
Mechanius's thoughts darkened, his glowing eyes dimming. 'I couldn't block her. She'll give me zero—fair enough.' He braced himself, his mangled arms trembling as he tried to sit up.
"Forty," Onilia said, her voice calm but firm, her sapphire eyes flicking back to Zane for a split second before settling on Mechanius.
The crowd erupted in murmurs, a trainee spitting in disbelief. "Forty? That's way too much for a loser who couldn't take one punch!" His voice carried over the plain, drawing nods from others.
Mechanius shook his head, his voice hoarse but resolute as he struggled to his feet, his wounds knitting slowly. "I get you're trying to be generous, Onilia, but those points aren't deserved. Don't pity me."
"Even the loser knows better," another trainee sneered, crossing his arms, his smirk sharp but uneasy.
Zane stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chatter, calm but loud enough to draw every eye. "I think you've all misunderstood something," he said, his blank expression giving way to a faint, knowing smirk. 'Onilia doesn't know how to explain herself for other's to understand. But those points? I'd have given him the same,' he thought, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd.
"Onilia's not mocking his pride. Mechanius earned those forty points two ways."
"Earned it? What kind of bullshit is this loser spouting now?" a trainee muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Don't ask me," his friend shot back, shaking his head.
Zane continued, "First, Mechanius broke one of Onilia's fingers with that second punch of his—the Piercing Galaxium whatever. Fact is, he was able to wound an Apex."
Kael, standing with Nolem and Oxin, raised an eyebrow, his voice low but impressed. "He caught that? Kid's sharper than he lets on. I thought we were the only ones to notice he broke one Onilia's finger." he muttered, his eyes flicking to Zane with new interest.
"Second, he survived her punch. You think forty's too much? Step up and take one of those fancy hits yourself, then we'll hear you out." His words landed like a challenge, silencing the crowd. Nenis, beside him, let out a low, approving chuckle.
Zane shifted his gaze to Mechanius, who was sprawled nearby, his Galaxium limbs knitting back together under Zoic's bizarre healing aura. 'This planet's unreal,' Zane thought, noting how the metal fused like living flesh. 'He's still healing like it's nothing. I wonder how many people back on Earth would believe if I told them there was a place where death was forbidden as long as the master wished it so.' His thoughts were cut short as Instructor Marius's voice echoed across the plain.
"Enough!" Marius snapped, silencing the crowd's murmurs. "Mechanius gets forty points, as Onilia decided. Next pair, step forward."
Nenis turned to Zane. "Let's go," she said, her voice sharp, her lips twitching with impatience.
Zane met her gaze, his expression calm. "Why the sudden rush? I'd rather we go last," he said, his tone casual, almost lazy, drawing a few snickers from the crowd.
Nenis's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Whatever. Suit yourself. A little delay won't change the outcome anyway."
Pair after pair fought, the ground trembling with each clash, dust swirling under the red sky. Primordials, Alphas, and Ascendants traded blows, some limping away with zero points, others barely scraping by with grudging awards. No one hit the full fifty points, and as expected, the Apexes—Nolem, Oxin, Kael, and Onilia—steamrolled their opponents, their victories as inevitable as Zoic's heavy pull. Finally, the moment arrived.
"Last pair—Zane and Nenis, step forward," Marius called, his voice steady but edged with curiosity, his eyes lingering on Zane.
Nenis strode to the center, her limbs moving with predatory grace, her preparation almost performative—she knew the outcome was set. A human Nay (Nay: unawakened player or a civilian) against an Apex? It was laughable. The crowd buzzed, a trainee with gills on his neck unable to contain his glee spoke. "Finally, the loser gets his bones snapped. Wish I was the one pounding him," he said, his voice thick with excitement, his scales glinting under the red light.
Zane's thoughts were steady, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as he walked forward, step by deliberate step, his gaze briefly drifting to the crimson sky. 'I didn't pick Onilia because she'd go soft on me, and I need to know where I stand against these alien freaks. Choosing an Apex like Nenis? That's not about winning—it's about denying these smug bastards the satisfaction of seeing me broken helplessly. It's expected that a Nay would get crushed by an Apex, so even if I lose, it'll be my win. Fine. Let's make this a damn show and piss them off. Onilia, you've got my back, right?'
A trainee with spiked tendrils shouted, "What the hell's he doing, taking an evening stroll? Hurry up and get your ass handed to you!" The crowd laughed, their eyes glinting with malice.
Zane and Nenis faced off, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Nenis's uncovered eyes bored into him.
"I don't know what possessed you to pick me, but don't expect me to go easy on you," she said, her voice low.
Zane's smirk widened, his tone light but taunting. "By all means, try. Land a hit if you can." The crowd went dead silent, jaws dropping.
"Did I hear that right?" a trainee with feathered antennae muttered, his voice high with disbelief.
"You may begin," Marius said, his tone neutral but his eyes narrowing, watching Zane closely.
Nenis's lips twitched, her voice a calm. "What the hell are you talking about? Is this test a joke to you?"
"Not at all," Zane said, his voice steady, his smirk unshaken. "That's why I'm giving you the first shot. I've seen a lot in my time—only fair I let you have the first swing. Come on, give me your best."
"He's finally lost it," a trainee with clawed limbs whispered, his eyes wide.
Onilia's eyes narrowed, her thoughts racing. 'What the hell are you doing, Zane?' Her fists clenched, her blue skin catching the red light as she watched.
Nenis's eyes blazed, her fury boiling over. 'He's trying to provoke me, I know it, but why is it working?' she thought. Being offered the first strike by a Nay was an insult sharper than any blade. "You'll regret this," she said with gritted teeth, then moved, her limbs a blur too fast for most eyes to track.
Zane didn't try to follow her speed—he knew he couldn't match an Apex's reflexes. Instead, his eyes flicked to Onilia, a deliberate distraction. Nenis faltered for a split second, her thoughts thrown. 'He's looking at Onilia? He's not making any attempt to block or dodge, wait, don't tell me, Is he expecting her to jump in?' Her hesitation slowed her just enough, her shadow shifting on the ground. Zane's gaze snapped back, locking onto her eyes, his body pivoting to face her shadow's direction.
'Oh shit, I messed up,' Nenis thought, her mind racing as she saw Zane fully ready and looking at her. 'It's too late to jump back, how is he gonna attack? With a punch? A kick? A feint?'
Zane's hand shot out, and with a flick of his finger, he tapped her forehead, the sound a faint 'ping' in the silent arena. Pain shot through his finger, likely fractured, but he kept his smirk.
'Urh, damn it, I think my finger is broken. Just what is her head made of?'
"You're not in a damn exam hall, Nenis," he said, his voice calm but cutting. "Lesson one: stop overthinking when facing an opponent stronger than you, useless thoughts are of no use in real combat, if this was an actual battle, you'd already be dead. Come at me again—you won't get another free shot, this time, make it count."
The crowd froze, faces contorted in disbelief. Instructor Marius's jaw tightened, his thoughts reeling.
'This is as humiliating as it gets. Getting advice from someone weaker than she? He didn't just dodge—he flicked her instead of an actual attack, scolded her, and also declared himself stronger than her. In short, Zane is dead.' Marius thought with an indifferent expression.
A trainee with glowing spines stammered, "This isn't right, this is not how it should be. He should be on the ground, begging and crying, instead, he turned into a teacher.!"