The countdown hit zero and the violence began.

  Frank didn't waste time. He moved his hands in sharp motions, creating glowing yellow squares in the air and stepped on them, propelling himself upward like he was climbing an invisible staircase.

  "Flashy," Grace muttered.

  "Effective," I countered. "Height advantage."

  Frank reached the apex of his jump and thrust his hands downward and a massive, translucent cube manifested above Siegfried and fell like a dropped safe.

  Siegfried raised a scalpel that glowed with an orange light.

  A split second before the cube crushed him, Siegfried tapped the bottom face of the construct.

  The sound was delicate, like a spoon hitting a wine glass. The massive cube shattered instantly, dissolving into harmless motes of light.

  Frank frowned, hovering in the air and created five more shapes—pyramids this time, spinning like drills—and launched them. Siegfried stood his ground and created a shimmering barrier around his body. As the pyramids struck, he tapped them. One by one.

  They shattered without Siegfried having moved an inch.

  "He's smart," I said, leaning forward. "He knows his role. He’s a support class. If he tries to out blast a blaster, he loses. So he’s just going to stand there and let Frank burn through his Qi."

  "How is he doing that?" Grace asked. "How does a scalpel cut energy?"

  "Balance," Aiya said, her eyes tracking the flow of Qi in the arena. "Frank’s arrays are math. They require perfect symmetry to exist. Siegfried is finding the structural weak point and popping it like a balloon. It’s very precise work."

  Frank was getting frustrated and the crowd was booing the stalemate.

  Frank dropped his aerial advantage and condensed his array into a yellow armor around his body and dove, turning himself into a human missile.

  "Mistake," I whispered. "He got impatient."

  Siegfried watched him come and then, he did something that made the whole arena gasp.

  He turned the scalpel inward and stabbed himself in the chest.

  "Okay," I said, blinking. "That's certainly a choice."

  Siegfried’s body contorted and his muscles swelled, ripping his shirt. His skin turned orange, and steam erupted from his pores. He was overclocking his own biology.

  He jumped.

  The doctor met the array master in mid-air and Siegfried unleashed an orange blast of energy from his palm that looked like a cannon shot.

  Frank was blasted backward, slamming into the arena wall with a crunch.

  "AND THE DOCTOR IS IN!" Coolie screamed over the PA system. "HE HAS A PRESCRIPTION FOR PAIN!"

  Frank scrambled out of the rubble. He was hurt, but not out. He started drawing furiously in the air, building a defensive wall.

  "He needs too much time," I noted. "Frank is a wizard who needs a prep phase while Siegfried is a brawler on steroids."

  Siegfried didn't give him the time and blurred across the arena.

  Frank managed to erect the wall, modifying the front to shoot geometric spikes, but it was too little, too late. Siegfried smashed through the spikes, ignoring the cuts and reached the wall.

  He stabbed the ground and the floor of the arena exploded upward, destabilizing Frank’s footing. The array master stumbled, his concentration breaking and the wall died.

  Siegfried stepped in and delivered a chop to Frank’s neck.

  Frank folded.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "WINNER: SIEGFRIED!"

  The crowd went insane. Everyone loves an upset.

  "A support who can tank and deal damage," I murmured, watching Siegfried walk into the tunnel. "That’s rare."

  The holographic screens shifted and the bracket updated.

  Match 2: Bells (Eden) vs. Adan (White Hill)

  The air in our VIP box vanished.

  "Adan?" Grace whispered. "I didn’t... I didn’t think White Hill would be here."

  "I forgot," I said, rubbing my temples. "Just because they're broke doesn't mean they aren't still a Major Faction. Of course they're here."

  The gates opened.

  Bells walked out, spinning a small cyclone on his finger.

  From the other side, Adan emerged. He looked different than the last time I saw him. His white armor was more polished and his aura was denser. He was definitely Realm 3 now.

  They met in the center.

  Adan smiled. "I'm happy we get to meet again. I hope you won't run away this time."

  Coolie jumped on it. "Ooh! Shots fired early! Can the Eden General stand his ground, or will we see that famous Eden sprint?"

  The crowd laughed. Fifty thousand people, laughing at us.

  "I don't think running will be necessary this time," Bells said.

  "FIGHT!"

  I clasped my hands together.

  Please just don't get embarrassed.

  Aiya slapped me on my back. "There is no need to worry, Kaz. Bells will win. Usually, cultivators that are really good on the battlefield are really bad in duels" Aiya said.

  Bells rushed him.

  It was a brawl. For every punch Bells threw, Adan countered with a kick. They moved at speeds the normal eye couldn't track.

  They broke apart after a minute, sliding back.

  "Now it starts," Aiya said.

  Adan pulled five talismans from his belt and threw them and they transformed into black smoke, forming five massive panthers that roared and charged.

  Bells swept his hand horizontally and a tornado formed sideways, like a drill, and shot forward. It caught the panthers, strangling them into dissipation, and continued toward Adan.

  Adan slapped a new talisman onto his chest and absorbed the wind drill, his armor glowing, and then—with a shout—he fired it back.

  The reflected tornado was twice as big, and this time, ink panthers were jumping out of the wind.

  "Usually," I said, glancing at Aiya, "cultivators who are good on the battlefield are bad at duels. Isn't that what you said?"

  Aiya grimaced. "I might have been wrong."

  Bells was forced on the defensive and he used wind to vault over the attack, but Adan was waiting with another talisman.

  The ground beneath Bells liquefied, then hardened instantly and rock shot up, encasing Bells’ legs, then his torso, then his arms. Within seconds, Bells was a statue, encased in stone up to his neck. Only his head was free.

  The crowd roared. It was over. Bells couldn't weave hand signs and he couldn't move his body to generate momentum. He was a sitting duck.

  Adan walked over, taking his time and stopped five feet away.

  "Any last words?" Adan asked, winding up a punch that glowed with energy.

  I closed my eyes. I couldn't watch.

  I heard a sharp sound. Like a blowgun.

  Then a thud.

  The crowd gasped and then, silence.

  "AND THE WINNER IS... BELLS!" Coolie screamed.

  I opened my eyes.

  Adan was lying on his back ten feet away, out cold but Bells was still trapped in the rock.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "He spit on him," Aiya said, looking disgusted and impressed at the same time.

  "He what?"

  "Fluid dynamics," Grace explained, pointing at the screen as they showed the replay. "Bells gathered saliva in his mouth and used his wind control to pressurize his oral cavity to the PSI of a hydraulic press. When he opened his mouth... he essentially fired a water bullet."

  I watched the slow-motion replay. Bells spit, then a blur distorted the air and Adan, who had left his face unguarded to gloat, took the impact right between the eyes. His head snapped back like he’d been shot.

  "He literally spit in the face of defeat," I said. "That's our General."

  Bells and Siegfried were moving on to the semi-finals.

  "Intermission!" Coolie announced. "Thirty minutes! Get your food, get your drinks, and get ready for the final match of the preliminaries!"

  The house lights came up and the crowd surged toward the exits, desperate for overpriced nachos and beer.

  Sal stretched. "I'm gonna grab a hot dog. You guys want anything?"

  "I'm good," Grace said.

  "I need to meditate on that fight," Aiya said.

  I sat there, staring at the empty arena floor.

  The bracket screen changed above the center stage.

  Final Match: The Cove vs. Seaside

  "Forget the food," I said.

  "Kaz?" Grace asked.

  "I've been waiting for this," I said, ignoring the hunger gnawing at my stomach. "We know what White Hill can do and we know what we can do. But those two?"

  I pointed at the names.

  "The Cove is unknown and Seaside is the only major faction in the city. I want to see what happens when the two factions I know nothing about finally stop being mysterious and start getting violent."

  I leaned back, crossing my arms.

  "I'll wait."