Chapter 151 First round

Words : 1358 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

The large display screen above the arena flickered to life, and the randomizer began selecting names. A brief hum filled the air as names shuffled rapidly before settling on three matchups—one from each year. Year 1: Nathan Cole vs. Erika Vasquez Year 2: Damien Holt vs. Serena Vaughn Year 3: Roland Pike vs. Andreis Novak Murmurs rippled through the crowd as the first two competitors, Nathan and Erika, stepped forward. Nathan, a wiry student with dark curls and a confident smirk, cracked his knuckles as he climbed onto the circular platform. Opposite him, Erika adjusted the wraps around her wrists, her expression stoic and unreadable. The containment barrier hummed to life, flickering momentarily before solidifying into a shimmering dome around them. With the stage set, the match was about to begin. Nathan Cole and Erika Vasquez—two students from completely different worlds. Nathan, from Class 1A, was part of the so-called "elite." The best of the best. Disciplined, polished, and handpicked for their potential. He carried himself with the confidence expected of a top-tier student, his uniform crisp, his movements sharp. Erika, on the other hand, hailed from Class 1C—the delinquents. The ones people whispered about. The troublemakers, the misfits, the students who didn't fit the pristine mold of the academy's expectations. With her messy hair tied back in a loose ponytail and a stance that screamed defiance, she stood out against the refined presence of her opponent. But talent? They both had it. Erika was a second-generation water user, capable of controlling both water and air, creating its sub-element—bubbles. Though many underestimated her ability, assuming bubbles were weak, those who knew her understood that in combat, she could weaponize them into pressurized explosions or traps. Nathan, too, was a second-gen, but his power leaned toward the offensive. A pyrokinetic, able to control fire in multiple variations. Standard yellow flames for broad destruction. Blue flames for condensed, intense heat that burned hotter than anything most students had ever encountered. Two contrasting abilities. Two opposing reputations. And now, locked inside the shimmering barrier, they were about to clash. The second-year match featured Damien Holt and Serena Vaughn, both from Class 2B. Unlike the first-years, these two knew each other well. Same class, same training sessions, same battlefield experience. But friendship didn't matter here. Both were first-generation talents, which meant their abilities weren't as naturally evolved as the second or third-gens. But that didn't make them any less dangerous. Serena Vaughn's talent was Haemokinesis. Her ability allowed her to control her own blood, shaping it into deadly weapons, hardening it into armor, or even manipulating its flow to enhance her physical abilities. A risky power—one that required self-inflicted wounds—but in the right hands, it was lethal. Damien Holt's talent was Chlorokinesis. He was a plant manipulator. Not exactly an ability that screamed danger at first glance, but Damien was nothing if not resourceful. He walked into the enclosure carrying a small plant pot, which meant he already had a plan. Given time, a skilled chlorokinetic could turn an entire battlefield into their domain. With the barrier activated, the match was set. In the Year 3 Ring, the contestants, Roland Pike and Andreis Novak where standing apart from each other. Explore more stories at My Virtual Library Empire The final ring was where the third-years faced off, and this match had a clash of extremes. Roland Pike's talent was Papyrokinesis. It wasn't the flashiest ability, but controlling paper had its advantages. It was light, fast, and razor-sharp when manipulated correctly. A single flick of his fingers, and he could turn an ordinary sheet of paper into a deadly projectile. More importantly, paper was everywhere—easily concealed, easily replenished. Andreis Novak's talent was Super-Speed. He didn't need any tricks. Raw speed was his weapon. At 700 km/h, he could strike before an opponent could react, dodge before they could attack, and escape before they could counter. But there was a flaw—control. Moving that fast meant one wrong step, one miscalculation, and he'd crash harder than any normal human could survive. The stage was set. Three rings. Three battles. And as the barriers sealed shut, the fights were about to begin. In the year 1 Ring: Nathan vs. Erica The barrier was turned on, locking them in. Nathan from Class 1A—the disciplined prodigy. Erica from Class 1C—the delinquent underdog. Pyrokinesis versus Bubble Manipulation. At a glance, the match seemed one-sided. Fire was raw destruction, while bubbles? They popped. Nathan wasn't planning on dragging this out. He slammed his foot against the platform, a surge of blue flames exploding from beneath him as he launched forward, cutting through the distance between them like a missile. One clean hit, and this would be over. But Erica wasn't standing still. Her hands moved in a fluid dance, bubbles forming around her feet, lifting her slightly above the ground. Hoverboard mode. 'Fast,' she noted, watching Nathan close in. She glided backward, evading his first strike with effortless grace. Nathan's foot touched the ground, and immediately, he twisted, slashing a crescent of blue fire in her direction. Whoosh! She leaned to the side, letting the attack sail past, but the heat still singed the edge of her sleeve. 'Damn, that's hotter than I expected.' "Close one," she muttered, weaving left as Nathan snapped his fingers, sending a flaming arc from his palm. Erica skidded across the ring, a new set of bubbles forming beneath her hands, and then—she pushed forward. The bubbles shot out like miniature water jets, sending her barreling straight at Nathan. He smirked. 'Finally coming to me?' Nathan ducked low, pivoting on his heel as she neared—a wall of fire bursting up in her path! She flipped midair. A large bubble formed at her back, releasing a concentrated burst of air—blasting her upwards just before the fire could reach her. Nathan followed up—closing the distance with raw speed, his fist wreathed in fire. Erica barely managed to raise a bubble shield, the impact cracking it instantly as she tumbled across the ring. 'Damn it—he's adjusting to me.' Nathan didn't let up. A pillar of blue fire roared toward her. Erica rolled, flipping to her feet, but Nathan was already there—a flame-coated punch aimed straight at her ribs! She barely dodged. Another blazing kick—she blocked with a condensed water sphere, the impact sending her staggering. Then—Nathan drove a knee into her stomach. She gasped, doubling over. A heavy fist smashed down on her back. She hit the ground hard. Pinned. Nathan stood over her, his palm glowing with a surging blue fireball, heat radiating across the arena. He inhaled. "It's over." He brought his hand down. Erica's eyes narrowed. 'Not yet.' She threw her palm up—bubbles shooting outward. But not just any bubbles. Moisture-Draining Bubbles. They latched onto Nathan's arms, his chest, his legs. The moment they touched his skin—they started sucking. Nathan froze. His throat went dry. His muscles tightened, his skin paled. The moisture was leaving his body. 'What the hell—' His fireball flickered, then vanished. Erica pushed herself up, more bubbles forming, latching onto him like parasites. Nathan staggered, his vision swimming. His breath felt shallow. His limbs felt weak. Erica stood up, panting, but her eyes were locked onto him. Nathan tried to lift a hand—his flames barely sputtered. The dryness in his throat burned. He felt like a husk. His body was shutting down. He clenched his jaw, fighting the dizziness. His fingers twitched—he could still force out one last attack. But then— He sighed sharply. "...I quit." The moment the words left his lips, the barrier deactivated. Healers rushed in immediately. The bubbles popped, releasing him, and he collapsed onto one knee, breathing heavily. Water was poured down his throat, and he felt life return to his limbs. He looked up at Erica, who was just as drained, sweat lining her forehead. She met his gaze. "Tough bastard," she muttered. Nathan huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "You too." The match was over. And Erica had won.

Chapter 151 First round

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