Simon was completely cornered and at a loss for what to do. As Marcus closed the distance between them, Simon's eyes suddenly darted to something behind Brittany. It was Dean.
Dean was creeping up behind her with predatory silence. Catching Simon's gaze, he pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Simon to remain quiet and not give him away. With Brittany focused entirely on her bow and arrow, Dean continued his stealthy approach from the shadows, preparing to take her by surprise.
Brittany had keen ears, but she was a split second too late. As she whipped around, Dean had already snatched the Malthen emblem from her silver chestplate, eliminating her instantly and securing her points for Fyrnic.
"Simon, RUN!" Dean roared.
The shout distracted Marcus long enough for Simon to scramble to his feet and bolt into the opposite woods with everything he had. Even as he fled, he couldn't help but cast one worried glance back at Dean, who was now left to face Marcus alone.
The dragonfly cameras were now focused on the clash between Dean and Marcus, causing Simon to disappear from the main screen. However, on the tactical map, spectators could still see his small dot moving steadily through the forest, indicating he was still in the game.
"Simon, don't lose..." Kai whispered under his breath.
Inside the forest, Simon kept running until he was a safe distance away. Finally, he leaned against a tree to catch his breath. His sides were aching with sharp cramps from the intense sprinting, and his heart was hammering against his ribs.
Simon barely had a moment to breathe before a low growl vibrated through the air. Emerging from the underbrush were five wolves made entirely of earth—Madame Lora's latest pride, and Simon's living nightmare.
"Seriously?" he muttered, unsheathing his sword and swinging it wildly to keep the pack at bay. At that moment, an announcement rang out: Marcus had been eliminated by Dean. But the relief was short-lived; it was quickly followed by the devastating news that Fyrnic's Seeker had been taken out by Edward Evering. With only twenty minutes left and Malthen regaining a slight lead, Simon's team was now flying blind without their Seeker.
Simon's blade connected with one wolf, deforming its clay-like face, but the lifeless creature didn't slow down. Realizing he couldn't win this fight, he swung his sword like a madman to clear a path and bolted straight ahead. Behind him, the earthen pack gave chase, hunting him down with relentless persistence.
Simon ran as if his life depended on it. He didn't realize that these wolves weren't meant to cause him physical harm; their goal was simply to pin him down with their earthen jaws, effectively ending his game. To Simon, however, it felt like he was being hunted by a pack of monsters ready to feast on him.
His legs screamed in agony, but he refused to slow down. He could hear his heart thudding wildly in his ears. Sharp branches whipped against his face, and thick mud clung to his boots, trying to pull him under, yet he surged forward like an arrow shot from a bow. He didn't dare look back. He knew that even a split second of hesitation would allow the wolves' earthen claws to find their mark on his shoulders.
While sprinting, Simon reached a steep slope and lost his footing completely. His sword flew from his grip, vanishing into the undergrowth of the hillside as he began to tumble down like a ragdoll.
"Oof! Ah! Ow! Urgh!"
He cried out in a chorus of pain as his body collided with rocks and roots, rolling uncontrollably down the incline until the world became a dizzying blur of earth and sky. When Simon finally reached the bottom, he lay flat on his back, staring up at the canopy of trees shielding the sky. His entire body throbbed with pain. At that moment, he felt a wave of regret, questioning why he had ever wanted to play Exigros in the first place. He struggled to his feet and scanned his surroundings; there was nothing but trees, and thankfully, no sign of the wolves.
But then, something caught the corner of his eye. A flag. A Black Flag, firmly planted in the ground. Simon was overcome with joy. He was actually glad he had fallen now. Forgetting his aches, he scrambled up and hurried toward the flag.
Just as Simon's hand reached out for the flag, a massive force collided with his chest. Vancy's heavy war hammer swung through the air, sending Simon flying backward until he slammed hard into a tree.
"Argh!"
He slumped to the ground, his body curling inward as he gasped for air through the agonizing pain.
In the stands, the crowd gasped in collective horror. Kai lunged from his seat, shouting that the match was unfair and bordering on brutality, while Jack struggled to hold him back. Logan simply smirked, crossing his arms as he watched the scene unfold.
"This little rat is finished. To run straight into Vancy of all people... tsk, tsk. Poor thing."
Simon scrambled to his feet, pressing his back firmly against the tree for support. Vancy approached him with slow, deliberate steps, his massive hammer resting casually on one shoulder. He didn't even glance at the black flag on the ground as he passed it. It was crystal clear now—he wasn't after the points; he was targeting Simon.
Vancy loomed over Simon, his massive silhouette blotting out the sun and casting a suffocating shadow. Simon pressed his back against the tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked up. He was terrified; his hands were shaking uncontrollably. Vancy peered down at him with cold indifference, tilting his head slightly.
"Shaking, are we? You're a far cry from the boy who talked back so boldly to our young master. Do you only have courage when people are watching?"
By "young master," Vancy meant Edward Evering. It was clear that the words Simon had once thrown at Edward hadn't been forgotten, and Vancy was here to settle that score.
Simon stared up, defenseless. He knew that with the dragonfly cameras recording, Vancy wouldn't dare do anything truly forbidden, but losing his emblem and the flags meant a certain victory for Malthen. With barely ten minutes left on the clock, the pressure was suffocating.
Vancy reached out for Simon's emblem—
Clang!
Out of nowhere, Dean's blade swung in, forced back only by Vancy's heavy hammer. Simon's eyes widened in shock. Vancy turned his cold gaze toward Dean.
"Still resorting to sneak attacks, Vexlay?"
"And you... still picking on those younger than you?" Dean countered.
"Your tongue is too sharp for your own good. I'll silence it with my fist."
"Try me."
As the two locked into a fierce duel, the immediate threat to Simon vanished, giving him a much-needed opening.
Simon watched the two seniors clash for a brief second before making a move. Clenching his fists, he scrambled forward on all fours, then broke into a sprint toward the flag. Vancy saw him, but Dean blocked his path with desperate ferocity, refusing to let him pass.
Simon wrenched the flag from the earth and roared, "Exigros!"
The points surged into Fyrnic's total, and the flag dissolved into wisps of black smoke in his hands. But the triumph was short-lived. Vancy, fueled by rage, managed to pin Dean to the ground. Holding Dean's face against the dirt, he ripped the emblem from Dean's chest. The points transferred to Malthen, putting them back in the lead.
Dean lay exhausted on the forest floor, shouting at Simon to run. Vancy stood up, tossing Dean's emblem aside like trash, and turned his cold, predatory gaze back toward Simon.
Simon checked the time. Nine minutes left. Malthen was leading, and he was alone with a vengeful giant.
From the trees behind Vancy, Vukasin stepped out into the clearing. He gripped his twin blades firmly, his gaze fixated on Vancy with chilling intensity. Vancy froze for a split second; he knew exactly what kind of monster Vukasin was. He adjusted his stance, tightening his grip on his war hammer as he realized he was now sandwiched between two Fyrnic members. For Simon, Vukasin's arrival was like a ray of hope, and he let out a long-overdue sigh of relief.
In the stands, the atmosphere exploded.
"We've won!!" Kai roared at the top of his lungs.
"Kai, the match isn't over yet. Besides, Malthen is still leading in points!" Jack said.
"Doesn't matter! As long as Vukasin is there, we've got this! Woohoo!!" Kai continued to cheer wildly.
At that moment, Edward stepped out from between the trees, wearing his usual, unchanging sweet smile.
"Oho, Sokolov... are you planning to attack our Vancy? You know it's futile, don't you? We're leading in points, and there's barely any time left. Just give up," he said, leaning against a tree in a voice as cool as a breeze.
But Vukasin didn't care. Usually, this would provoke his temper, but now he remained chillingly calm. He knew Edward was just stalling for time. He looked at Simon, who was closest to Edward.
"Simon, can you do it?"
"Huh?" Simon looked at him, confused.
Vukasin's gaze said it all: Take Edward down. It was a look of absolute confidence. Simon stared back for a moment before nodding firmly. Instantly, Vukasin tossed one of his blades to Simon and lunged at Vancy. Taken by surprise, Vancy barely managed to block the strike.
Simon caught the sword. It was heavier than he expected, so he gripped it with both hands and pointed it toward Edward. He locked his eyes on the emblem on Edward's chest, his gaze filled with lethal precision. He was going to win this, for sure.
Edward rolled his eyes and shook his head with a faint smile—one that never reached his eyes.
"Come on then, Blackburn. I've been looking forward to this myself," he said, lunging toward Simon with startling speed. His blade swung in a wide arc, but Simon met the strike head-on, bracing himself for the impact.
In the stands, the tension was palpable. Logan watched the duel with a keen interest before turning to Henry.
"It's over. No one can stand against someone like your brother."
Henry replied, his expression remaining as unreadable as ever. "Edward is going to lose."
"Huh? Do you even know your own brother? He's the most skilled fighter in the academy," Logan said, scowling.
"I say it because I know him better than anyone. He is underestimating Blackburn, and that will be his downfall. Just like how you lost to Blackburn before..."
The remark stung Logan's pride, especially coming from Henry. He huffed in annoyance but fell silent, his eyes fixed intently on the ongoing battle.
On one side, Vancy was fighting like a man possessed, trying his best to snatch Vukasin's emblem. On the other, Simon was struggling with everything he had. Edward was a far more formidable opponent than Logan, making things incredibly difficult for Simon. Edward, however, seemed to be enjoying himself, moving with a light-footed elegance. He wasn't looking for a quick finish; he was deliberately stalling, letting the clock run down.
With one final, powerful strike from Edward, the sword flew out of Simon's trembling hands. Dean watched in horror from the sidelines, but as an eliminated player, he was powerless to intervene. The tip of Edward's blade now rested precisely against Simon's throat. With only one minute remaining on the clock, Edward glanced at the timer and spoke with chilling finality.
"It's over, Blackburn."
Everyone thought Fyrnic was done for. Vukasin and Vancy were locked in a stalemate, neither able to reach the other's emblem. But Simon wasn't looking at the clock; his eyes were fixed solely on the prize.
In a move of pure desperation and madness, Simon grabbed Edward's blade with his bare hand. The sharp steel sliced deep into his palm, blood blooming instantly, but he didn't flinch. Caught off guard by Simon's sheer will, Edward froze for a split second. Using that momentum, Simon yanked the blade toward himself, forcing Edward to stumble forward.
5 seconds... 4 seconds...
With lightning speed, Simon's other hand lunged at Edward's chest. He gripped the emblem and ripped it away with a triumphant roar. Just four seconds before the buzzer, the impossible happened. The emblem was off.
"Fyrnic WIN!"
The announcement thundered through the entire arena. Vukasin dropped his twin blades and sprinted toward Simon, with Dean trailing close behind. Seeing the deep gash on Simon's hand, Vukasin ripped a strip of cloth from his sleeve and carefully bound the wound.
"You did it, little Scrap," Vukasin whispered. A rare, genuine smile broke across his face, and though his eyes shimmered with tears of overwhelming pride, he fought to keep his composure.
The dragonfly cameras captured every angle of their embrace, broadcasting the raw emotion to the massive crowd. Kai was screaming at the top of his lungs, hoisting his banner high, while Toad waved the team flag vigorously in the air. Finn looked as if he was on the verge of happy tears, and Jack simply let out a long sigh of relief, a proud smile forming on his lips.
On the other side, Logan was in total shock. He turned to Henry, who met his stunned gaze with a calm, steady look and a slight shrug. His expression said it all: 'I told you so.'
Edward stood frozen, still gripping his sword as he stared at Simon. His gaze flickered between the fresh blood on his blade and the boy who had just outsmarted him. Vancy rushed to his side, asking frantically if he was alright, but Edward only offered a faint, distracted nod.
His entire focus remained fixed on Simon. Then, a smile spread across his face—not the usual mask of polite condescension, but a genuine smile born of true respect.
"Impressive," he whispered to himself.
The announcement of Fyrnic's victory set the entire arena ablaze with sound. As they headed back toward the spectator stands, the eliminated Fyrnic members met them at the gate with a hero's welcome. They ruffled Simon's hair and showered him with praise, leaving the young boy wide-eyed and overwhelmed in the midst of his seniors.
They came to a halt before the massive main gate. Once those doors opened, they would be stepping into the heart of the celebration. Dean stood beside Simon, wearing a knowing grin.
"Ready for what's about to happen?"
"Huh?" Simon blinked, confused. Then, the gates swung wide.
A deafening wave of cheers crashed over them. As Simon stepped into the arena, he looked up in awe. The entire stadium was on its feet, a sea of people roaring in unison to honor them. Glittering confetti and colorful petals drifted through the air like magical snow, and Fyrnic banners fluttered proudly everywhere.
Even the Masters had risen from their seats to applaud. Kai and Toad were screaming themselves hoarse, while Jack and Finn clapped with unbridled joy. Even Oliver and his group, who had once looked down on him, were now joining the standing ovation.
Then, Kai started the chant, and soon the entire stadium took it up: "Simon! Simon! Simon!"
Simon stared at the scene, his dark eyes reflecting the kaleidoscope of lights and cheering faces. He had never experienced anything like this. In this moment, he didn't feel like the son of a criminal; he felt like a true champion. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he quickly brushed them away. Seeing this, Vukasin, with Dean's help, hoisted Simon onto their shoulders.
Startled at first, Simon soon found his courage. He thrust a banded fist into the air, joining the roar of the crowd. He wasn't just a spectator in his own life anymore—he was the one the world was cheering for.