Chapter 101: The summoner Without a Core weapon

Chapter 101: The summoner Without a Core weapon [mass release 1/5] Up from the seat Kairos sat in, his eyes fixated on the platform where Kaela now stood alongside thirteen other students—the contenders of the Core Weapon Battle. He couldn’t help but feel a pit tighten in his stomach. He knew Kaela’s vulnerability to core weapons. He knew it better than anyone. So the question burned in his mind like wildfire: why had she chosen to fight in the contest despite that? His gaze shifted, eyes darting left, then right, as he scanned the rows of students and spectators in search of Lina. He needed to ask her—needed to understand why she had let Kaela do such a reckless thing. But with the roaring crowd closing in from all directions, his efforts were fruitless. Lina was nowhere to be found. For now, all he could do was sit and watch, hoping with all he had that Kaela knew what she was doing. Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Kaela stood tall—but noticeably empty-handed. No core weapon rested in her grip. She stood among the Summoners, all of whom clutched their shimmering, ornate core weapons with pride. They towered over her, both physically and metaphorically, eyes narrowed in suspicion and disdain. Their stares dripped with mockery, their minds likely echoing the same question: Why was she even here? What was she thinking stepping into a battle like this without a weapon? Even the announcer, positioned at the side of the stage, seemed confused. He took one step forward, then stopped. He wanted to approach her, to ask the question aloud, but the memory of the last time he confronted a peculiar student still haunted him. That disgrace still clung to his reputation like a parasite. So instead, he swallowed his pride and turned to address the crowd. Avoiding further humiliation, he stuck to the script. "This is a free-format elimination match," he declared, voice booming through the amplifiers. "You will all pair up in two’s and battle. The first person to fall—back touching the floor—will be disqualified. You may then challenge any other contestant still standing. Two against one, three against one, four—I don’t care. All we need in the end... is two finalists." With that, murmurs of excitement stirred the crowd and the students began moving, forming tentative alliances and rivalries in real-time. Kaela was soon paired up—fate, or maybe strategy, putting her against a boy much taller and visibly stronger. A grin spread across his face, sinister and smug. "I’m not gonna take it easy on you, girl," he said, voice booming with joy. There was something sadistic in his tone, the thrill of dominating a perceived weaker opponent. Somewhere in the crowd, Sergeant Lloyd watched in tense silence. He stood not far from the stadium, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He had promised to intervene if things spiraled out of control. And if they did—he would jump in without hesitation. ’I hope you know what you are doing,’ he thought grimly, recalling Kaela’s stubborn request to fight without a core weapon. She had signed her own liability waiver—her own risk, her own will. The bell rang. A sharp chime pierced the air. And the battle... began. Flashes of energy exploded across the stage. Metal clanged against metal. Core weapons collided, releasing sparks and beams that lit up the battlefield like a fireworks display. But Kaela stood still. Her eyes never left her opponent. Her arms relaxed at her side. No panic. No hesitation. Just clarity. The tall boy grinned wider. In his hand, he gripped a massive club, its metal head crackling faintly with blue energy. He launched the first attack—confident and aggressive. With surprising agility, he swung the club directly at her head. It cut through the air with a violent whoosh, a missile of brute strength aimed to end the match instantly. But Kaela was ready. She activated her integration. Her body moved with instinctual precision—ducking low, the club sailing just inches above her head. She felt the air split above her as she rolled beneath the blow. In the same motion, she sprang upward, her foot shooting out in a quick kick to his gut. Her foot connected, but she pulled back almost immediately. She leapt back, gaining distance. The boy barely flinched. "What happened? Don’t wanna attack?" he mocked, clearly unfazed. But Kaela had a reason for her restraint. The moment her foot touched his stomach, she had felt it—heat. Not from his body, but from beneath his shirt. A core weapon. He was wearing armor beneath his clothing. That meant every hit had to be calculated. ’I can only hit him in the face,’ she thought coldly. She took her stance again, eyes sharpening. He charged once more. This time with fury, swinging his club high and fast, the weapon now glowing with a deeper blue hue—core energy being unleashed. He brought it down with all his might. Kaela moved—not away, but sideways, just enough to let the weapon crash uselessly into the ground beside her. A quake burst from the impact, dust flying into the air. In a blur, she grabbed his wrist. With seamless technique and a burst of strength that defied her size, she flipped him—shoulder over shoulder—and slammed him down on his back. The force of the throw sent a tremor through the stadium. Dust and grit leapt into the air from the violent impact. Gasps rippled through the crowd. The boy let out a cough, stunned, lying flat on his back. His eyes wide with disbelief. "How did you beat me? No, it’s not possible—" Kaela stood over him, calm and confident. "No, it’s not possible to beat me," she said, shaking her head. "As you can see, I’m not on your level, child." The audience buzzed with whispers and awe. Up in the stands, Kairos couldn’t believe what he had just seen. To the others, it might’ve looked like a simple throw. But he had seen it. He had caught the micro-movement, the speed, the precision. To flip someone of that size—especially one wearing armor—with no core weapon, it bordered on impossible. ’She might just be able to win this... without a core weapon,’ he thought, heart pounding.