In a blur of motion, John executed a graceful backflip, landing with elegant poise, a smug grin etched onto his face.
"Ah, predictable."
He pointed his gilded spear towards the Titan's chest, energy coalescing at its tip before he lunged forward, aiming for what he assumed was a weak spot.
But before his spear could make contact—
The Titan's free hand shot out, catching him mid-air.
A horrified silence engulfed the crowd.
John barely had time to register what had happened before the Titan clenched its grip, squeezing him like a mere insect caught between its metallic fingers.
His smug smirk twisted into sheer panic.
"H-Hey! Let go of me, you oversized abomination!"
The Titan, in response, lifted him high above the ground, its glowing cyan eyes flashing ominously before it hurled him across the arena like a discarded ragdoll.
John crashed against the barrier, bouncing off like a stone skipping across a lake, before landing face-first into the dirt.
A beat of silence.
Then—
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The loudest laughter came from Finn, who clutched his stomach, practically wheezing.
Wang Ji-Pang wiped away a tear, barely able to contain himself.
Even Shi Zhao Mei, who normally maintained a composed demeanour, let out an elegant chuckle, covering her mouth as her shoulders trembled in amusement.
Aleeman merely shook his head, suppressing his own smirk as he crossed his arms.
"Ah, how the mighty have fallen," Mei-Xi-Li said with mock sympathy, feigning a solemn nod.
John, groaning, pushed himself off the ground, dust and dirt smeared across his once-impeccable uniform. His golden spear lay discarded several feet away, still pulsating with faint energy.
Celeste Marlowe, despite being known for her haughty and refined persona, couldn't help but smirk, leaning towards Genevieve.
"I do believe our dear John may need to rethink his approach."
John, his face red with both fury and embarrassment, staggered to his feet, pointing a shaking finger at the Titan.
"You… you will pay for this humiliation!"
The Titan, unimpressed, simply raised its axe once more.
John, finally grasping the reality of the situation, let out a nervous gulp.
"Alright… maybe I should take this seriously now."
The arena hummed with residual energy, the aftershocks of John Wei-Tang's humiliating defeat still lingering in the air like the scent of burnt arrogance.
As his dust-covered form limped away, his pride battered more than his body, the next challenger stepped forward, her movement as fluid as silk caught in the evening breeze.
Celeste Marlowe.
The epitome of aristocratic elegance, draped in a form-fitting academy uniform that seemed untouched by mortal hands. A platinum braid cascaded over her shoulder like spun moonlight, and her piercing cerulean eyes held an unshaken confidence—not the foolhardy arrogance of John, but the assurance of a woman who never failed.
She moved with an air of nonchalance, her every step graceful, controlled, exuding the presence of nobility.
She did not need to prove herself.
She did not need to boast.
She simply needed to win.
Professor Galadriel raised her hand, signalling the next bout.
"Celeste Marlowe. Your trial begins now."
A flicker of amusement danced in Celeste's icy gaze.
"Very well, then."
With the mere snap of her fingers, a pair of radiant rapiers materialised in her hands, each blade slender, refined, a deadly dance of light woven into metal.
The Arcane Titan's hulking form shifted, the glow of its mechanical core pulsing in synchronisation with the thundering steps it took forward. Its gargantuan axe scraped against the arena floor, sparks flying, as if the beast itself were eager for destruction.
Unlike John, Celeste did not waste time with theatrics.
The moment the Titan swung its spiked mace, she was already moving.
Her form blurred like a wraith, twisting mid-air as her rapiers flashed in a silver arc, slicing against the Titan's exposed gears with surgical precision.
A metallic groan resonated through the arena as Celeste landed softly on the ground, her boots barely making a sound.
Finn let out a low whistle. "Well, she's fast."
Shi Zhao Mei observed, arms crossed. "She's precise. She's not wasting movement."
Hua-Jing, still bitter from previous encounters, scoffed. "Hmph. Let's see if she can handle its counterattack."
The Titan turned sharply, its spiked ball swinging in a wide arc, aiming to crush its nimble opponent in a single blow.
Celeste tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk on her lips.
"Predictable."
With an effortless pirouette, she sidestepped the deadly swing, her coat fluttering in the aftershock as the Titan's attack obliterated the stone floor where she had once stood.
The crowd gasped as debris exploded outward.
Without hesitation, Celeste launched herself forward, her rapiers shimmering with ethereal energy, each strike finding its mark—
A precise stab into the Titan's shoulder joint.
A fluid slice along the knee actuator.
A swift thrust to the exposed core vents.
Her movements were seamless, elegant, like a ballet of destruction.
Yet—
The Titan did not fall.
Instead, its eyes glowed an ominous red.
Celeste barely had a moment to react before the Titan unleashed a shockwave, sending her skidding backward, her boots dragging against the scorched floor.
Finn, watching from the sidelines, clicked his tongue. "Tch. She's doing damage, but it's not enough to take it down."
Aleeman, arms crossed, analysing with an unreadable expression, finally spoke.
"She's testing its reactions. She's not fighting to win yet—she's gathering information."
The Titan charged forward, swinging its massive axe in a downward cleave, intending to bisect the noblewoman where she stood.
But Celeste did not retreat.
Instead—
She stepped forward, directly into the Titan's attack.
Gasps rippled through the audience.
Was she insane?!
And then—
A blur of silver.
At the last possible moment, Celeste angled her rapiers, sliding along the Titan's axe as though she were dancing along the edge of a blade.
Her form curved in a hypnotic arc, and in a single fluid motion, she vaulted over the Titan's shoulder, landing behind it with utter grace.
As the Titan whirled, attempting to regain its bearings, Celeste struck.
A single, devastating lunge to the core.
The impact sent a pulse of energy rippling through the Titan's body—a delayed reaction before the colossus fell to one knee, its mechanical systems short-circuiting.
A heavy silence fell upon the crowd.
Celeste Marlowe straightened, flicking her rapier with a practiced motion, allowing the residual energy to dissipate before sheathing it.
She exhaled slowly.
"A barbaric display of power has no meaning without precision," she murmured, her tone velvety yet sharp.
The barrier around the arena deactivated.
Professor Galadriel, watching from the upper balcony, nodded in approval. "A pass."
A moment later, the arena erupted into murmurs and hushed conversation.
Genevieve Whitmore smirked. "Hah. As expected of Celeste."
Cassandra Vaudette flicked her fan open. "Such elegance. Such refinement."
On the other side of the arena, Hua-Jing scoffed.
"Tch. She's insufferable."
Finn chuckled, nudging Aleeman.
"Well? What do you think?"
Aleeman, watching Celeste as she walked past the fallen Titan with unshaken poise, simply smirked.
"She fights like a queen—but that was only the first Titan."
The battlefield still pulsed with energy, the echoes of Celeste Marlowe's graceful yet ruthless battle lingering in the air. The Arcane Titan that had once stood like an unstoppable colossus now lay in ruin, its shattered remains smoldering under the academy's artificial arena lights.
But the challenge was far from over.
A new titanic construct began to emerge from the underground vault, its metallic limbs assembling with an eerie clatter, gears grinding as arcane energy surged through its core.
This Titan was different.
Unlike its predecessor, which relied on brute strength, this one radiated an aura of calculated precision, its movements smoother, its reflexes faster. A second-level Arcane Titan—one designed to read and counter its opponent's attacks.
And the one who would face it?
Hua-Jing.
She exhaled slowly, stepping forward with an air of collected determination, her silver-white hair glistening like silk under the moonlight glow of the artificial sky dome.
Her weapon of choice?
A gilded war fan—Fēng Bǎi Hé (风百合 – Wind Lily), its delicate surface deceiving, as if it belonged in the hands of an empress rather than a warrior.
Finn, standing among the spectators, leaned in with a smirk.
"A fan? Against that beast? Is she planning to lecture it into submission?"
Wang elbowed him sharply.
"Watch and learn."
Professor Galadriel's voice echoed across the battlefield.
"Hua-Jing Hakiman. Your trial begins now."
The Arcane Titan's eyes flared, scanning Hua-Jing in milliseconds before lunging forward, its massive axe slicing through the air with a bone-chilling hum.
Most fighters would have dodged frantically—but Hua-Jing?
She merely tilted her head, observing the attack with clinical detachment.
The moment the axe descended, she twisted her wrist, unfurling Fēng Bǎi Hé with a flick, creating a short-lived current of wind that redirected the strike just inches away from her shoulder.
Clang!
The ground trembled as the axe buried itself into the earth, narrowly missing her.
She hadn't even moved from her starting position.
John, watching from the sidelines, scoffed.
"Tch. That was luck."
Celeste, however, observed with sharp scrutiny, her arms crossed.
"No. That was calculation."
The Titan, now registering her ability to deflect attacks, adjusted its stance.
With inhuman fluidity, it shifted its strategy, abandoning brute force in favor of speed, its massive body moving with unsettling precision.
It launched a rapid flurry of attacks, its axe and spiked chain whirling like a deadly hurricane.
Yet, Hua-Jing danced.
Her movements were like flowing ink on parchment, an unbroken sequence of elegant sidesteps, controlled pivots, and perfectly timed counter-swipes with her fan.
Each strike she deflected created ripples of wind, subtly shifting the Titan's balance, forcing it to overextend—yet she never struck first.
Shi Zhao Mei, watching closely, murmured under her breath.
"She's waiting."
Aleeman nodded slightly, eyes fixed on the battle.
"She's looking for an opening
Then—it happened.
The Titan, sensing an opportunity, went for an overhead swing, its massive axe descending with brutal force.
But Hua-Jing had been anticipating this exact moment.
She stepped in, not away, her fan snapping shut, its razor-thin edge slicing across the Titan's exposed knee joints.
A critical strike.
The Titan lurched forward, its balance compromised.
And that was when she struck.
A single swift pirouette, her fan unfurling in a whirlwind of golden arcs, generating a crescendo of slicing gales—Fēng Lóng Jué (风龙诀 – Wind Dragon's Verdict).
The air howled as dozens of razor-sharp gusts slashed through the Titan's weak points, severing its limb mechanisms with surgical precision.
The massive construct shuddered, sparks erupting from its core.
Hua-Jing landed softly, her fan closing with a soft snap, her expression unreadable.
Then—
The Titan collapsed.
For a moment, there was no sound.
Then—an eruption of stunned murmurs.
"She—she didn't even use brute force!"
"She barely moved!"
"That was… that was unreal."
Even Celeste Marlowe, ever the picture of aristocratic smugness, tilted her head in appreciation.
"Efficient. No wasted movement. Exquisite control. Hmph. Perhaps there's some elegance in the Hakiman bloodline after all."
Shi Zhao Mei smirked.
"She was simply toying with the Titan. A strategic artist, not a brawler."
John, meanwhile, sulked.
"Tch. What's so great about waiting for the enemy to make a mistake? That's not real fighting."
Aleeman, stepping forward, rested a hand on Hua-Jing's head, ruffling her silver hair in an almost brotherly approval.
"That was impressive, little wolf."
Hua-Jing, for once, allowed a small, victorious smile.
"I don't always have to fight like you, brother. Strategy wins wars, not just brute strength."
Wang, grinning, elbowed Finn.
"She just made it look effortless. Meanwhile, I expect you to trip over your own rifle during your turn."
Finn rolled his eyes, shouldering his rifle.
"I guess it's time for me to show you all how a real marksman fights."
The murmurs of awe and disbelief still rippled through the gathered students, echoes of Hua-Jing's strategic masterpiece lingering like a legend in the making.
But the battle wasn't over yet.
As the last remnants of the previous Titan's collapse settled, another mechanical behemoth emerged, its towering gilded frame reflecting the dying embers of the evening light.
This Arcane Titan was twice the size of the last one, its steely form reinforced with reinforced ablative plating, glowing runic engravings pulsating along its joints. Unlike the others, this one wielded no weapons—instead, its own body was the weapon.
Its broad, heavily-armored arms could crush stone with ease, and its plated legs were designed to withstand direct artillery fire.
This Titan was not one to be dodged or outmaneuvered.
It was one to be obliterated from a distance.
And there was only one man for the job.
Finn Ming Ju-Go.
With a nonchalant sigh, Finn cracked his neck, adjusting the leather straps of his rifle case slung over his shoulder.
"Finally. My turn."
He stepped forward, boots crunching softly against the gravel of the training field, his frame relaxed yet poised—the air of a man who had walked into countless battles armed with nothing but his rifle and sheer audacity.
Finn was not a swordsman like Aleeman, nor a tactical dancer like Hua-Jing.
His was the art of the single bullet—a single shot, placed with unerring precision, where the battle ended before it even began.
As he reached the center of the battlefield, he unslung his rifle, fingers tracing the runic engravings on the dark obsidian frame.
This was his pride and joy—
Serpent's Fang.
A long-barreled custom sniper rifle, its frame forged from shadow-infused etherium, designed for long-range annihilation. The sleek, dark barrel gleamed under the artificial moonlight, its coil-based firing system humming faintly, ready to unleash a thunderous wrath.
The students murmured among themselves.
"He's not even drawing a sword?"
"Does he really think he can fight a Titan with a gun?"
John Wei-Tang, arms crossed, scoffed from the sidelines.
"Tch. He's just a coward, hiding behind a firearm. A true warrior fights up close."
Shi Zhao Mei, however, smirked, arms folded.
"You don't understand, do you?"
John glanced at her, frowning.
"Understand what?"
She turned her gaze back to the battlefield.
"Finn is not a warrior. He is a hunter."
The Arcane Titan's emerald eyes flared, recognizing its opponent. Unlike before, this one didn't charge recklessly—it was programmed to adapt, to evaluate threats before engaging.
Finn, however, merely rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on Serpent's Fang as he took a few steps back, scanning the terrain with an almost lazy expression.
Then—
With a metallic roar, the Titan lunged forward, the sheer weight of its gargantuan frame shaking the ground beneath it. Its fist swung down, aiming to crush Finn in a single blow.
But Finn?
He was already gone.
With a graceful sidestep, he barely moved, letting the Titan's earth-shattering impact miss him by mere inches, sending up a cloud of debris.
And yet, still—he did not shoot.
Aleeman, watching from the sidelines, narrowed his eyes.
"He's waiting."
Finn calmly exhaled, shifting his stance, adjusting his grip on Serpent's Fang.
The Titan turned, its massive plated fists swinging toward him again.
Again, Finn evaded with minimal effort, stepping aside at just the right moment, his coat billowing from the sheer force of the Titan's strikes.
He was testing its movements.
Measuring its reaction speed, its attack timing, its weakest moment.
Celeste Marlowe huffed in annoyance.
"Is he going to fight or dance around it all night?"
Shi Zhao Mei, however, merely smirked.
"He only needs one shot."
The Titan, now visibly irritated, changed tactics.
It raised its arms—and from its back, two massive artillery cannons unfolded.
The students watching gasped.
"It has ranged weapons?!"
The Titan's cannons glowed, preparing to unleash a devastating energy barrage.
Still—Finn did not fire.
He simply exhaled once more—
Then, in one fluid motion, he snapped Serpent's Fang into position, his amber eyes narrowing down the scope, locking onto a single point.
"There."
The Titan's energy cores, visible for only a fraction of a second, gleamed just beneath its chest armor.
A normal fighter would have missed it entirely.
Finn never missed.
He squeezed the trigger.
"Bang!"
A single, thunderous shot rang through the air—
The bullet, infused with compressed etheric energy, ripped through the Titan's plating, a precise shot straight into the core.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then—
A massive explosion erupted from within, as the Titan's internal systems overloaded and detonated, its entire upper half consumed in a blinding blast of etheric fire.
The force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, dust and debris scattering as the Titan's lower frame collapsed onto its knees before finally toppling over.
Dead.
Destroyed.
Defeated—with a single shot.
Silence.
Then, the arena exploded into chaos.
"What the hell was that?!"
"HE TOOK IT DOWN WITH ONE BULLET?!"
John Wei-Tang's mouth hung open, his pride shattered into dust.
"That—That doesn't count! He barely even fought!"
Aleeman, however, simply grinned, arms crossed.
"It doesn't matter how many times you swing your blade, John. The only thing that matters is who lands the final strike."
Hua-Jing shook her head with an exasperated sigh.
"Honestly, he makes it look easy. But I know Finn—he never shoots without a plan."
Shi Zhao Mei chuckled, watching Finn twirl Serpent's Fang in his hands before slinging it over his shoulder.
"One shot, one victory. That's how a real hunter fights."
Finn, stepping away from the battlefield, gave a lazy grin, adjusting his rifle strap.
"Man, that was fun."
Wang groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Yeah, yeah. Now it's my turn, isn't it?"
Finn smirked, patting Wang's shoulder.
"Good luck, buddy. Try not to get stepped on."