The moment the projection vanished, the heavy, oppressive air lingered like the taste of metal on Theos's tongue. The class stood frozen, the finality of their situation sinking in. Theos felt the weight of a hundred eyes on him, but his resolve remained steady. For better or worse, they had accepted him as their leader.
A sharp crack echoed through the room, and the ground beneath their feet shimmered. The glowing patterns from the arena projection appeared on the floor, swirling like molten gold. Before anyone could react, the world around them dissolved into light.
When the glow faded, they stood in the flesh-and-blood arena. The obsidian pillars towered overhead, their runes pulsating in a rhythm that felt almost alive. The ground beneath them was cool and smooth, but it seemed to hum faintly, as if vibrating with barely contained power.
A low growl cut through the eerie silence.
Theos turned, his heart lurching as the shadowy figures from the projection began to emerge from the far side of the arena. There were dozens of them, their movements unnaturally smooth, their armor gleaming with the same faint light as the runes. They stalked forward like predators sizing up their prey.
One of the students whimpered.
"Stay calm!" Theos barked, snapping them out of their trance. "Remember the plan. We fight smart, and we fight together."
The figures halted, their heads tilting in unison, as if assessing the group. Then, without warning, they charged.
Theos's breath hitched. They were faster than he'd expected, their movements a blur of shadow and light. The ground trembled under their advance, the air thick with their energy.
"Positions!" he shouted.
The class scrambled into formation. Theos moved to the back, focusing on summoning the fireball technique he'd spent countless hours perfecting. His hand trembled slightly as he called on the raw power within him.
"Hold them off!"
The first impact came like a thunderclap. A shadow figure collided with one of the students—a burly boy named Jarek—who managed to block the blow with his sword, but the force drove him to one knee. Theos could see the strain in his face as he pushed back with a guttural roar.
Another figure darted toward a smaller girl on the left flank. She reacted instinctively, thrusting her spear forward, only for the creature to twist unnaturally, dodging with ease. Before it could retaliate, an arrow whizzed past, embedding itself in its armor. The creature staggered but didn't fall.
"Nice shot, Lia!" Theos called out, sparing a glance toward the archer.
"We can't hold them forever!" someone yelled, panic creeping into their voice.
"Just buy me a little more time!" Theos growled, sweat beading on his forehead as the fireball began to take shape above his palm.
Theos focused on the flickering flame, willing it to grow. The power surged through him, hot and wild, threatening to spiral out of control. He gritted his teeth, pouring everything he had into stabilizing it.
In the chaos, the arrogant student—who Theos now knew as Dren—stepped forward, twin daggers flashing. "Cover me!" he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Dren's movements were a blur as he weaved through the battlefield, his daggers slashing at the shadowy figures with precision. Each strike seemed to weaken the creatures, their glowing forms flickering like dying embers.
"Not bad," Theos muttered under his breath, grudgingly impressed.
But the tide wasn't turning fast enough. More of the shadowy figures emerged from the runes, their numbers growing.
Theos's fireball pulsed, now the size of his torso, its heat scorching the air around him. He could feel its power begging to be unleashed, but he needed just a few more seconds.
Dren suddenly appeared beside him, blood streaking his face. "Whatever you're doing, do it now!" he snapped.
"Almost there!" Theos hissed, his focus unbroken.
A shadow figure broke through the line, heading straight for Theos. Its speed was blinding, its movements almost liquid.
Dren leapt to intercept, but the creature was faster, swatting him aside like a ragdoll.
Theos's heart skipped a beat as the figure lunged toward him, its blade raised.
"No!"
At the last second, a wall of shimmering light erupted between Theos and the creature. One of the students—a quiet girl named Kael—had raised a barrier, her face pale with effort.
"Thank you," Theos breathed, his voice low but sincere.
Kael nodded weakly, sweat dripping from her brow.
Theos turned his attention back to the fireball. It was ready.
"Clear the field!" he roared.
The students scrambled back as Theos thrust his hand forward, releasing the fireball with a guttural cry.
The world seemed to hold its breath as the blazing orb streaked across the battlefield, its heat turning the air to steam. It struck the center of the enemy formation, exploding with a deafening roar.
The ground shook as flames engulfed the shadowy figures, their forms dissolving into black mist. The light from the explosion illuminated the entire arena, casting harsh shadows across the obsidian pillars.
When the dust settled, the battlefield was eerily silent. Theos stood at the center, his chest heaving, his arms trembling from the exertion.
"Is… is it over?" someone whispered.
Before Theos could respond, the runes on the ground flared to life once more.
From the center of the arena, a new figure began to rise. It was larger than the others, its form more defined. Its armor gleamed with an unholy light, and its presence radiated an overwhelming malice.
Theos's heart sank. This was no mere test. This was a nightmare.
The figure raised a massive blade, its edge crackling with dark energy.
Theos clenched his fists, his body screaming in protest. He was spent, but there was no room for hesitation.
"We're not done yet," he said, his voice steady despite the fear clawing at his chest.
The students regrouped around him, their faces etched with determination. Even Dren, battered and bleeding, stood tall.
Together, they faced the towering figure.
"We fight," Theos said, his voice firm. "And we win."
And with that, they charged.