Above, in the observation hall.

  “Twelve minutes,” Bernt said, pouring coffee with lazy precision. “Twelve minutes and they’re already about to break each other’s faces.” He took a deliberately loud sip, glancing sideways at Romina and Sebastian, who stood by the windows. “Why not just have them fight each other directly?” he asked Astera, the quietest, without looking away from the bursts of flame and snow swirling below.

  Astera said nothing. She was rigid, dissociating, watching the dark-haired girl grin with malice as she tore through dummies. The others noticed her silence and exchanged uneasy looks.

  “Believe me!” Smiley erupted, bursting from the floor like a phantom. Bernt nearly spilled coffee on the puppet rising before him, cackling. “I thought about it. But… isn’t it a bit soon to throw two emotionally unstable girls into a ring? They both fight too well. Uff—the chills if Lord Frostweaver finds out his heiress came back with a black eye courtesy of me! No thank you~”

  Bernt snorted and took another sip, muttering a muffled “Fair enough…” into his cup.

  “She fights like a savage,” Romina observed, arms crossed. “She’s stopped throwing projectiles—turned the catalysts into gauntlets.”

  “Hmm. She must have noticed the energy limit,” Sebastian said, adjusting his glasses. “First-year gloves have certain restrictions.”

  Bernt stepped closer, offering Romina coffee before narrowing his eyes at the field. He let out a low whistle.

  “Look at that… young Frostweaver’s got aim. She hasn’t missed a single shot.”

  "I don't think this is going to end well..." Romina said, her nerves growing each second at the sight of her lioness. "But at least they are working together, right?"

  “No. They’re not cooperating,” Astera finally said. Her words carried the echo of old rivalries. “They save each other, yes… but only to prove who’s better.”

  The three professors didn’t answer. Silence filled the room, broken only by the sight of wave after wave of dummies falling—pierced by icy arrows, skewered by thrusts, and consumed by fire.

  Below, in the arena.

  Smoke still hung from the last explosion when a new formation of dummies advanced in tight ranks, shields up front. Feralynn charged head-on, fists blazing. Miria, further back, drew an ice bow and aimed high.

  “Don’t shoot over me, idiot!” Fer barked, slamming a fiery right hook into the first shield.

  “Then don’t get in the way!” Miria shot back, loosing the arrow. It tore through three heads in a row, grazing Fer enough to singe a strand of her hair.

  “Are you insane?!” Fer jumped back, scowl tight. The gauntlet crackled with pent-up energy. “You could’ve killed me!”

  “If you can’t dodge, that’s not my fault,” Miria replied coldly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

  The dummies gave them no time for more bickering. A wooden spear shot for Miria’s exposed side. Fer growled—instinct faster than pride—snapped her wrist, and blasted the attacker to pieces.

  The heat scorched Miria’s cheek. She touched the reddened skin, eyes blazing with fury and humiliation.

  “…I don’t owe you anything, Blackwood.”

  Fer gave her a crooked smile.

  “You’ll pay me back, Frosty.”

  Another wave of dummies crashed toward them. The ground quaked under the charge of a reinforced platoon. Ten at once, wooden spears and swords raised as if real.

  “Back!” Fer shouted, hurling herself forward with fists aflame.

  But Miria didn’t listen. She conjured two ice rapiers and cut her way into the swarm, quick thrusts clearing space—without checking if her partner was in the path.

  Fer spun, ready to unleash fire in a wide arc. At the same time, Miria raised her blades for a crossing strike.

  Fire and ice collided in a brutal crash: steam and sparks filled the air. The nearest dummies blew apart, but the blast wave hurled the girls too.

  Fer landed on her knees, gauntlet smoking. “I told you not to get in my attacks!”

  Miria panted, her face flushed from heat and anger. “And I told you not to underestimate me. Just because you don’t need gloves doesn’t make you special.”

  For a second, neither moved. Their eyes burned hotter than flame or frost. One false step, and the next strike wouldn’t fall on a dummy—but on each other.

  Above, behind the glass, Smiley gave a giggle that echoed through the megaphone: “Ohhh, now it’s getting fun!”

  “Smiley,” Astera cut in, stern. “They’re going to hurt each other. Either you do something, or I’ll stop this myself.”

  Faced with the ultimatum, the headmaster and three professors fell silent. Smiley lowered his hat and voice.

  “Fine…” he said darkly, raising a hand. “Let’s see if they cooperate now.”

  SNAP.

  A snap of fingers.

  Feralynn and Miria watched as the remaining dummies froze, then sank into the ground as if the arena had swallowed them. Silence fell. Smoke and steam drifted, each breath suddenly too loud.

  Nothing moved.

  Miria drew another arrow; Feralynn raised her hands, flames dancing in her gauntlets. They waited. Nothing. Until—

  The ground shook. First a low hum, then a quake that split the arena floor and rattled the debris.

  “LADIES, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SHOW!” Smiley’s voice boomed like a circus master. “BUT ENOUGH WARMUP! ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE ONE OF MY LITTLE FAVORITES.”

  With a monstrous roar, a massive fist punched through the ground. Splinters of wood and shards of metal flew in every direction. The girls stumbled back, staring in disbelief as a colossus emerged.

  A giant dummy, ten meters tall, its wooden body reinforced with metal plates, glowing red runes pulsing like burning veins across its torso. Every step made the arena tremble.

  “LET’S GIVE A WAAARM WELCOME TO BOOONNIE!” Smiley bellowed.

  Their jaws dropped. Miria’s heart hammered harder than ever; her bow nearly slipped from her hands. How in the hell could the directors allow this to be legal?!

  Bonnie roared. A guttural sound so deep it rattled their bones. Miria clapped her hands over her ears on reflex, her bow and arrow clattering to the ground.

  BAM!

  A fireball exploded against the giant’s jaw, forcing it back a step. Feralynn, with a feral smile, lowered her still-smoking arm.

  “Just shut the fuck up already!” she shouted at the giant.

  She checked the glove that had fired: the neon lights flickered, the metal squeezing her wrist as if it meant to bite. “Damn piece of junk…” she snarled. She slapped it with her other hand, and the runes flared back to life, humming hungrily.

  “Uuhh… Headmaster,” Sebastian interrupted, pushing his glasses up. “I don’t think this is the best—”

  “Stop it. Now.” Astera ordered, without raising her voice.

  “Relax, relax!” Smiley raised his hands like a salesman caught in a scam. “It’s harmless. Just roars, makes poses, scares a bit. Come on, it’s a teddy bear with a giant complex. I won’t let it turn them into tomato paste.”

  Bonnie roared again, so loud the arena lights shook. It slammed a fist into the ground; the crash opened cracks and hurled clouds of dust that shoved the girls back.

  Miria reacted fast: she formed another ice bow, drew an arrow, and shot it straight into the monster’s gaping mouth. The projectile sank deep, making it release a jagged groan, like splintering wood.

  Bernt leaned toward Romina, murmuring in a conspiratorial tone:

  “Twenty larens says Miria brings it down first.”

  Romina shot him a sideways look, feigning indignation, but a sly half-smile tugged at her lips.

  “Forty on my lioness.”

  They shook hands. Quick, complicit, behind the backs of the other three who remained stiff, taking the fight far more seriously.

  The giant’s groan twisted into fury. Bonnie raised both arms and slammed them down in a colossal clap against the ground. The shockwave was like an explosion: both girls were flung to opposite sides, rolling among rubble and embers.

  “Shit!” Fer spat, pushing herself up, her face streaked with dust.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Miria staggered, her bow shattered in her hands. She clicked her tongue and conjured another instantly, but she knew she wouldn’t have time for a precise shot.

  The titan advanced, each step shaking the ground. Its red runes blazed brighter, glowing like live embers in raw flesh.

  Feralynn charged her fist with fire and sprinted straight at the colossus. Miria screamed:

  “Idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

  But in the last second she understood. Fer wasn’t trying to fell it alone—she was creating an opening for her.

  Miria drew her bow, aiming at the colossus’s knee. The instant Fer leapt and hurled her flaming punch at the dummy’s chest, Miria fired. The arrow froze the knee joint while the fiery impact knocked it backward.

  The monster roared and toppled, crashing into the ground with a thunderous impact that rattled even the observation windows.

  Silence. Only smoke and embers.

  Fer panted, fists still burning. Miria, bow raised in guard, didn’t ease her tension. They looked at each other, pride still simmering, yet neither could deny what had just happened.

  “Don’t even think about it…” Fer growled, before the other could speak.

  Miria smiled faintly, ironically, but swallowed her retort.

  The fragile silence shattered with a guttural roar: the creature slowly rose, wood and metal groaning with every movement. It lifted a massive fist toward them.

  From above, the professors watched Smiley extend his arm, directing Bonnie’s movements. He slowed the titan just enough for the girls to gain distance and ready themselves again.

  Feralynn and Miria circled, flanking the colossus. Their attacks poured in: volleys of ice arrows and fireballs, impact after impact, filling the air with steam, smoke, and charred splinters. The dummy staggered a step, but refused to fall.

  “This is taking too damn long!” Fer shouted, sweat mixing with soot on her face.

  “It’s resilient…” Miria answered, drawing another arrow before firing. The ice struck, yes, but shattered immediately. They needed more force. More explosiveness. She remembered how Fer had blown apart the dummy that morning. Her jaw clenched, and the words burst out as if it hurt to say them:

  “Fire one of your bullets!”

  Fer tried. Amid the rain of fireballs, she began condensing energy into a single point. But as the sphere formed, the gloves crackled violently. The runes flared red-hot, clamping her wrist like searing shackles, ripping a gasp of pain from her.

  “Damn piece of junk…!” she cursed, striking the glove with her other hand to force it back into function.

  “Do it now!” Miria cried, leaping aside to dodge the titan’s sweeping arm, which carved a trench of debris into the floor.

  “I’m not taking your orders!” Fer roared, teeth clenched. “Who the fuck put you in charge, huh?!”

  Between ragged breaths and bursts of sparks, the two kept arguing—even as the giant’s hands slammed down like hammers, inches from smashing them flat.

  The air vibrated with each swipe. The walls trembled. One second more, and they’d be crushed like insects.

  “Come on, damn thing…” Fer muttered, choking back a scream.

  “If you don’t fire now, it’ll kill us both!” Miria shrieked, diving away from a massive hand that shattered the floor in a spray of dust and splinters.

  Fer glared at her, pride choking in her throat. But even she knew—they only had one chance.

  “Fuck with this shit!” Feralynn ripped off her right glove and flung it aside, the metal clattering across the floor. “Distract it so I can shoot!”

  “She’s going to do it again…” Romina murmured from the observation room, swallowing hard. Her jaw stiff. “The negative energy spell…”

  Sebastian and Bernt exchanged tense glances. Smiley, however, didn’t drop his smile, fingers twitching like a puppeteer over Bonnie. Astera remained mute, unblinking.

  Miria understood at once. She sprinted in the opposite direction, unleashing a storm of ice stakes. They hammered against the colossus’s face; it raised a massive palm as a shield, letting the shards embed in wood and metal. That was enough—its attention was hers. The signal, the reluctant plan they needed.

  From afar, Miria turned her head and met Feralynn’s eyes. A slight nod—the silent message: do it.

  Fer shut her eyes. Silence. The chaos of battle faded into a distant hum. Only her breathing remained, slow, heavy. Heat rose around her. Mana, raw without the glove, began to boil on her skin as it had before.

  She raised her finger. Heat surged like a burning embrace. Embers spiraled around her, floating like flaming petals—all of them sucked into the tiny point of fire at her fingertip.

  Her lungs burned. Her whole arm went numb. The left glove still on her hand crackled with blue sparks, on the verge of exploding from the overflowing mana it detected.

  “More…” she whispered. And the fire obeyed. It compressed, devouring itself like a miniature black hole.

  Astera and the professors watched as half of the arena lit in orange and gold, as if a sun had bloomed in the palm of a teenager. All were left gaping—except Astera, who bit the inside of her cheek in silence, recognizing the spell the instant the girl lifted her finger.

  Smiley let slip a faint murmur, barely audible even to those nearest him:

  “So you did learn his trick after all, little crow.”

  And with a tug of his invisible strings, he forced Bonnie’s head to turn, locking its gaze on Miria—buying Feralynn a few more seconds.

  All of hell condensed into a single sphere.

  She opened her eyes: snow. Her breath froze. She saw her right forearm clad in her old camo uniform, her black leather glove stained red.

  The pines bristling under night, the ground carpeted with bleeding corpses. The stench of fresh blood on her face. She wasn’t in the school—she was back there. Only the muffled shouts of rifles and orders rang in her ears. Attack. Kill.

  The projectile now fully formed at her fingertip. She raised her hand in the shape of a gun. Her thumb cocked, waiting to drop. Like the axe of an executioner.

  “Gun…”

  Click.

  She dropped her thumb.

  …

  BOOOOM!!!!

  The bullet tore through the sound barrier, roaring like an infernal chimera. When Bonnie turned to seek the thunder’s source, it was already too late: in a blink, the blast carved a smoking crater into its chest, flames devouring wood and hurling burning shards in every direction.

  The shockwave hurled Miria backward; she managed to raise an ice wall that caught her with a jarring thud. The giant, reeling, let out a guttural groan, but remained standing.

  Now or never. The noble bit down, pouring every last drop of mana from her body. She screamed, and between her hands an enormous ice arrow was born—no bow to draw it but the force of her own arms. She held it trembling, aiming, salty sweat trailing down her face to her lips.

  The air was an oven. The explosion still burned in the atmosphere, forcing her to fire before collapsing.

  “ICE STYLE: BLIZZARD FANG!”

  FWIP—THACK!!!

  She released the string. The titanic arrow pierced Bonnie’s head. In the same instant, fire and ice struck its vital points, finishing the colossus completely.

  Silence fell, heavier than the explosion.

  Bonnie staggered, a blazing crater yawning in its chest and the arrow jutting from its skull. One clumsy step forward, another back… and then, like a tree ripped from its roots, it toppled.

  THUUUUMMMMM—

  The tremor rippled through the entire arena, kicking up a cloud of dust that vanished as quickly as it had risen. The giant lay still.

  The two girls remained standing, gasping, a few meters apart. Not a word—only the ragged echo of their breaths.

  Above, behind the glass, no one moved at first. Not even Smiley. The wooden clown slowly tipped his hat down, white eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

  Bernt was the first to break it, letting out a whistle. “Well… that was one hell of a show. Kinda surprised they didn’t end up dueling.”

  Romina didn’t clap or smile; arms crossed, she muttered under her breath: “A bomb and an arrow. If this is just the beginning… I don’t even wanna imagine the end.”

  Sebastian pushed his glasses up with a finger, swallowing hard. “They finally cooperated. Even if it was at the last moment.”

  Astera’s gaze stayed fixed on the dark-haired girl’s silhouette, her jaw tight, as if she were staring at a ghost made flesh.

  “These two are oil and water,” she murmured, glancing at Smiley, who lowered his arm slowly. “That’s enough of a display for today.”

  The puppet nodded, satisfied.

  “Indeed, indeed. They must be exhausted.” He snapped his fingers and conjured a microphone, letting his shrill announcer’s voice ring out: “HOLY GODS, WHAT A SHOW THESE TWO HAVE GIVEN US! I’M DELIGHTED TO ANNOUNCE THAT BOOOTH TAKE HOME THE GRAND PRIZE!”

  Miria could barely stand, hands braced on her knees, back hunched with exertion. She panted, drained of every last drop of mana. Wiping sweat from her brow with her wrist, she saw the runes on her gloves dark—spent, inert.

  The smoke thinned slowly, revealing Feralynn. She didn’t blink. Her expression was vacant. She walked straight ahead, as if drawn by an invisible point no one else could see, surrounded by flames feeding on the colossus’s scorched remains.

  “Not bad, Blackwood…” Miria rasped, voice raw. But Fer didn’t stop. “Hey… I’m talking to you.”

  “...”

  Feralynn fixed her gaze on her. A shiver ran through Miria—there was no mockery, no sarcastic smile, only an unsettling stillness, an absolute concentration pinned on her.

  “Are you… alright…?” Miria asked cautiously, stepping forward.

  She didn’t have time to react. Feralynn charged in silence, red eyes wide, brow locked. Miria barely let out a strangled exhale before a flaming fist slammed into her gut. The armor absorbed just enough to keep her alive, but the pain knocked the air from her lungs.

  "GHACK!— B-BLACKWOOD?!"

  THWACK!

  "You stupid...shit!"

  "Gcchkkk—!"

  Her vision blurred as she hit the ground, her head cracking against concrete.

  Then came the punches: two, four, six. Fer seized her by the white hair and hammered savage blows into her face.

  "FUCKING DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE!"

  Each strike dimmed Miria’s consciousness further. She tried to claw at Fer’s throat, to choke her off, but Feralynn’s furious, mechanical rhythm crushed her.

  The dry crunch of her nose, the split lips, an eye swelling black.

  Darkness swallowed her whole against the feral rage of her classmate.

  "SUTURE. BODY RETENTION."

  Suddenly, hundreds of thousands of golden threads snapped tight around Feralynn’s raised wrist. She struggled, desperate to keep hammering the “house”—a white wall turning purple and red, with weeping windows—that writhed beneath her. The threads multiplied, winding around her neck, yanking her back in a violent pull. To her, what lay below wasn’t Miria anymore but an enemy, just another target to finish off for good.

  Rage blazed in her. She clawed at the cords strangling her throat, setting them alight, but they only coiled tighter around her wrists and ankles, binding her.

  Smiley descended to the scene, followed by Astera and the professors, who rushed, urgently in panic, to the unconscious noble sprawled in blood.

  “I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL BURN YOU ALIVE. YOU BASTARD SON OF A BITCH…!!!” Feralynn spat at the headmaster, her voice dripping with murderous venom. She thrashed against the hold, arms blazing as she screamed.

  Smiley sighed, as though hearing the echo of something he had witnessed before.

  “Ah… my dear crow. I honestly expected more from you.”

  The director opened a portal straight to the infirmary. The professors and Astera passed through, Astera herself carrying Miria’s limp body in her arms.

  “But now I see: like father, like daughter…”

  …

  …

  …

  ?