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Suno lay on the ground, his body convulsing in agony as the poison coursed through his veins. His right eye was completely lost, the searing pain forcing him into a helpless state.The short acolyte from the Aryan faction sneered down at him, his voice dripping with mockery as he jeered, "You can now call yourself the one-eyed Croc, hahaha"
What truly infuriated Shinta and the rest of the half-bloods wasn't just Suno's brutal defeat—it was the referee and the crowd's reaction. Instead of condemning such cowardly behavior, some of the audience laughed and enjoyed the acolyte's cruel jest.
.
The sneers, the laughter—they were more than just insults; they were a reminder of the deep-seated prejudice that many held against the half-bloods.
Shinta's fists clenched, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. But before it could boil over, a shift occurred. The atmosphere changed as Shiryu, the Bronze Dragon, stepped forward to take the stand. A few words from Shiryu were all it took to reignite their spirits. The half-blood acolyte seemed to pulse with energy as the half-bloods began to cheer, their voices rising in unison. The previous personal exams had ranked Shiryu at 16, a placement that never quite sat right with Shinta. Despite her higher rank, she had never once considered Shiryu to be weaker than her. His lower ranking was a consequence of bad luck—he had the misfortune of being matched against the current number one acolyte of the Academy, a battle that had skewed his standing.
Now, as the Bronze Dragon Shiryu took his place on the battlefield, his spear gleaming in the arena's light.
As soon as the fight began, the short acolyte launched a flurry of poison needles, hoping to catch Shiryu off guard. Shiryu dodged them effortlessly and shot forward like a striking serpent, a blur of motion that the acolyte had no hope of evading.
BAMMM!!!!
The spear struck with precision, a single, devastating blow that landed squarely in the acolyte's chest. The force of the impact sent him sprawling across the arena floor and knocked him unconscious in an instant.
"Next!" Shiryu called out, ready for more.
The half-blood acolytes cheered, their spirits lifted by his swift and decisive victory.
The third Aryan acolyte stepped into the arena, a silver-ranked fighter with a muscular build and an imposing presence. His skin glinted like metal, suggesting a powerful defensive ability.
As the battle began, Shiryu launched a series of rapid, precise attacks with his spear. The acolyte, however, didn't flinch; he absorbed each strike, his metal skin deflecting the blows with ease. Instead of counterattacking, he focused on enduring Shiryu's onslaught, clearly aiming to exhaust the dragon's stamina.
Shinta watched from the sidelines, her anxiety growing. It was clear that the Aryan faction had meticulously prepared for this fight. Carlos's deceptive ranking, the short acolyte's underhanded tactics against Suno, and now this impenetrable wall of defense—all were carefully chosen to exploit the half-bloods' weaknesses.
Shinta's eyes darted toward the last two Aryan acolytes, both high-ranking gold insignias, and she felt a knot of worry tighten in her chest.
But Shiryu remained unfazed. He fought with relentless precision, his strikes calculated and fierce. For forty intense clashes, he tested the acolyte's defenses, searching for a weakness. The metallic opponent, though formidable, began to show signs of strain. Finally, with a powerful thrust, Shiryu found his opening, shattering the acolyte's defense. The Aryan fighter staggered, his metal skin cracked, and with one final strike, Shiryu brought him down.
The arena erupted in cheers as Shiryu stood victorious, his resolve and skill overcoming the Aryan faction's carefully laid plans.
The fourth challenger stepped into the arena, a golden insignia acolyte ranked 34—a third-year student known as Noir, hailing from a noble fire-worshipping faction. Like the Kux faction, Noir's faction was deeply entrenched in the Church of Purity organization.
He had faced Shiryu before, but victory had always eluded him. This time, however, he approached the battle with a clear strategy, fully aware of Shiryu's strengths and vulnerabilities.
As the fight began, Noir unleashed his family's [1000 Lotus Flame Palms] sacred technique, a series of relentless, blazing attacks that filled the arena with searing heat.
Shiryu, despite his formidable skills, found himself engaged in a grueling battle. The two exchanged blows with lightning speed, their movements almost too fast for the eye to follow. Noir's flames roared, clashing against Shiryu's spear in a display of raw power and skill.
The battle dragged on, surpassing a hundred fierce clashes. Noir, knowing he couldn't match Shiryu in a prolonged fight, began to take more risks. His eyes burned with determination as he pushed his limits, pouring everything into his technique.
At the climax of their struggle, Noir made a desperate, audacious move—he sacrificed his own self, allowing Shiryu to land a devastating blow on him. But in doing so, he ensured that his own Lotus Flame Palm struck true, slamming directly into Shiryu's chest. The force of the attack sent a shockwave, and Shiryu staggered back, blood trickling from his mouth.
Noir, his body scorched and battered, chuckled weakly as he collapsed to the ground. Despite losing the match, he had accomplished his goal, leaving Shiryu severely wounded.
Shiryu, struggling to remain on his feet, clenched his fists, his breathing ragged.
From the sidelines, Shinta watched in horror as Shiryu coughed up blood. Unable to contain herself, she shouted, "Let me fight!"
Despite the pain and exhaustion, Shiryu refused to let Shinta take his place. He offered her a silent, knowing smile, a look that spoke volumes—he wanted her to pay close attention to the next fight.
The final Aryan fighter was their faction's prodigy, Zhin, a devout believer in the Church of Purity, ranked 17. Despite his delicate beauty, which made him look more like a girl than a warrior, Zhin was a force to be reckoned with. His arms were wrapped in silver chains that glinted under the arena's light, each link seemingly imbued with a life of its own.
As the battle commenced, Shinta couldn't help but be impressed. Zhin wielded the chains with an uncanny mastery as if they were extensions of his own body. Despite his exhaustion, Shiryu fought valiantly, trying to force Zhin to reveal his full repertoire of techniques. Zhin's skill was undeniable. He unleashed a dozen different moves, each more intricate and lethal than the last. Shiryu, drained from his earlier battles, could barely keep up. His movements slowed, his defenses weakened, and after 30 clashes, Zhin's chains ensnared Shiryu completely and took his victory.
The defeat was a heavy blow to the entire Half-Blood Hall.
All eyes now turned to Shinta.