Chapter 43: The Strongest Elite of Class S VS The Strongest Elite of Class A (2)
The air in the ruined colosseum went tight, quivering like a string pulled too hard, as the countdown hit zero. The faint hum of mana in the ground picked up, vibrating under their boots, making the cracked marble tiles feel alive and angry.
In a flash, light swallowed everything—the blue glow from the teleport circle bursting bright, pulling Lucian, Celestia, and Christopher in with a rush that made their stomachs flip. The world smeared into colors, red sky and gray stone blending into nothing, the air humming louder like a storm building fast.
And in a blink—they were there.
The trio landed on cracked marble tiles that crunched under their weight, surrounded by broken statues and archways leaning like they might fall any second. The colosseum stretched out huge and wrecked—rows of seats long gone, just empty stone tiers rising up to the red sky, the air thick with dust and the old smell of stone and mana gone stale. Echoes of old fights hung faint, like whispers from the walls, making the place feel bigger, meaner. The sun beat down hot through the haze, turning sweat to salt on skin quick.
Then—
CLANG!
A metal roar cut the quiet, sharp as a slap. Johnathan Almek Leonborne lunged at Lucian without a word, his golden eyes burning with that wild, lion-like fire. His greatsword came down fast, shimmering with golden aura that trailed sparks like a comet, the strike heavy enough to crack the tiles if it missed.
"Johnathan, wai—!" Amelia Eileen Orientalia's voice came too late, her ruby eyes widening as she reached out.
Lucian was already moving, his saber up with that calm, sure way, blocking the hit clean. The clash sent a shockwave out, blasting dust and small rocks away, the marble under their feet splitting with a crack that echoed. Sparks flew between the blades, bright and hot, the air humming with the force of it.
Johnathan grinned wide, teeth flashing, his golden mane of hair catching the light. "You're late," he said, voice rough with excitement, like he'd been waiting for this.
Lucian let out a faint, tired laugh, pushing back just enough to create space. "Had to take care of a Seventh-Class Dark Mage—which you didn't. Hah, I really did your dirty work for you, Johnathan," he said, his tone even, no bite, just fact.
Johnathan tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing a bit, that grin still there but sharper. "I was in a hurry. I thought you already arrived here first, but it seems we beat you to it." His grin got wider, wild and ready. "Oh well. I'll enjoy fighting you, Blackstar. Show me that same ferocity I saw on the Mana Train—when you cut off the head of that Mana Raider leader like it was nothing."
Lucian smirked small, his saber steady in his hand. "Then I'll be obliged to show you how strong I've become, Chosen Lionborn."
Johnathan froze mid-step, his eyes going wide, the grin dropping for a second. "H–How did yo—"
Before he could finish, Lucian's blade flashed—moving fast, a blur that cut the air, and Johnathan barely parried, the force pushing him back, sparks flying with every hit. The two traded blows quick, metal ringing loud, shockwaves rippling out that kicked up dust and made the pillars shake. Johnathan swung heavy, his greatsword coming down like it could split the ground; Lucian met it even, his saber light but precise, turning the power back without losing ground.
The clash between the two top guys filled the colosseum with thunderous noise—clang, clang, boom—each hit echoing off the broken walls, the air humming with mana and the raw push of strength against strength.
But not far from them—
Christopher Davenson and Claire Manhattan were already at it, their fight kicking off fast and messy.
"Damn! So you're the famed support mage of the S-Class? You look more like a cute librarian than a fighter!" Christopher roared with a laugh, his fists lighting up with mana as he rushed forward, boots pounding the marble.
Claire's amber eyes flashed dangerous, her staff waving quick to summon a ring of magic circles around her. "Cute?! You'll regret saying that!" she snapped, her voice sharp, cheeks flushing red but her focus like steel.
BANG!
A volley of fireballs and arcane bolts rained down toward Christopher, exploding in bursts of heat and light that lit up the dust.
But instead of dodging or jumping back, he planted his foot hard and threw his arms up in a tight guard, letting the magic hit full. The blasts slammed into him—flames licking his gauntlets, energy cracking against his arms—smoke billowing out thick. When it cleared, his muscular frame stood there unshaken, steam rising off his skin like he'd just stepped out of a hot bath.
"Heh. Not bad!" Christopher cracked his knuckles, veins popping as he turned on his Body Reinforcement Art, mana flaring blue around his arms. "Now it's my turn!"
He sprinted like a bull, closing the gap in a blink, his first punch shattering Claire's barrier with a crack that echoed. The second grazed her cheek, sending her sliding back on her heels, hair whipping wild. But before he could land another, she spun her staff fast, summoning Runic Chains that snapped out like whips, wrapping around his arms tight.
"Caught you!" Claire said, her voice triumphant, pulling the chains to yank him off balance.
"Caught me?" Christopher grinned, his eyes lighting up. "You sure?"
He flexed hard—mana exploding from his body in a burst, the chains snapping apart like dry twigs. "You'll have to do better than that!"
Claire backed up quick, her eyes narrowing, breath coming fast. "He broke my runes with brute strength?" she muttered, gritting her teeth, her staff raised high. The colosseum shook as an Arcane Seal formed above her, big and glowing, mana pulling in from the air. "Then let's see if you can handle this, musclehead!"
"Bring it!" Christopher roared, charging straight through the magic storm, fists up.
Every blast she threw—arcane bolts, fire whips—he countered with raw power, punching through flames and energy like they were paper. Claire realized fast that hitting hard wouldn't work; she started teleporting short jumps, using spatial runes to pop in and out, landing strikes from angles he couldn't see coming. But Christopher adjusted quick—watching her feet, reading her moves, predicting where she'd blink in next.
Finally, he jumped up high, using a chunk of broken marble as a step, and slammed his fist down from above, putting everything into it.
"HEAVEN-SMASHING STRIKE!"
BOOM!
The ground shattered beneath Claire as she barely threw up another barrier in time, the impact sending cracks spidering out, smoke and dust exploding up. She coughed hard, waving her staff to clear the air, her face smudged but eyes fierce.
"Heh. You're tougher than you look, lady," Christopher said, landing with a thud and a smirk, shaking out his hand. "But this time, you're my training partner!"
Meanwhile, at the opposite side of the arena—
Celestia Silveria Van Lumina clashed with Amelia Eileen Orientalia, their swords ringing out in a fast blur of silver and crimson, the air humming with the force of it.
"Still as stubborn as ever, Amelia," Celestia said coldly, parrying another flaming slash that sent sparks flying. "You haven't changed since the last exam."
Amelia's ruby eyes glowed hot, her sword trailing red mana like blood in water. "And you still think you're above me, Celestia. You were always the Empire's little saint—perfect, untouchable. But not this time!" she snapped, her voice sharp with old grudges.
Her sword lit up with scarlet mana, flames twisting like a bird taking flight, and she unleashed Crimson Reign: Phoenix Waltz. The fiery wings of her blade swept across the arena, hot and wide, threatening to swallow everything in reach.
But Celestia didn't back down or flinch—she channeled her mana through her sword, her silver hair glowing under the light she pulled in. "Lumina Divine Art: Argent Veil of Dawn!" she called, a radiant shield of holy light blooming around her, bright and clean. The flames hit it hard, hissing and steaming, but Celestia stepped forward through the fire, her blade cutting the blaze in half with a slash that left a trail of white light.
"Is that all you have, Amelia?" Celestia asked, her voice cool, her sword steady.
Amelia grinned, her eyes wild with the fight. "Far from it."
The two women lunged again, their swords creating streaks of light and fire across the battlefield—Celestia's divine strikes clashing against Amelia's infernal bursts, explosions blooming with each hit, shaking the ruins and sending dust raining from the broken arches. The air filled with the crackle of mana and the ring of metal, the ground scorching where their feet pushed off.
Even Lucian, trading blows with Johnathan in the center, could feel the shockwaves from their fight rolling in—hot bursts of energy that made the air ripple, like two storms bumping heads.
'Hah. Looks like both of them are giving their all,' he thought quick, parrying another heavy swing from Johnathan without missing a beat.
The arena burned with light, fire, and fury—the strongest elites of Class A and Class S locked in battle, their strength shaking the remnants of the old colosseum to dust.