The room fell silent, faces drained of color, as Seiya halted the elite's strike with an iron grip on his wrist. His stance was unyielding, the veins on his arm bulging with effort.
Seiya hadn't intended to interfere. His initial plan was to continue his training, leaving the others to their fate. Yet, something deep within stirred unease when he saw Hayne on the brink of being beaten like the other children. Before he realized it, his body moved, placing him between the elite and Hayne. Now, as he stood amidst their stunned gazes, regret did not cross his mind—only the dread of what repercussions his defiance might bring, particularly the wrath of his father and its fallout on the children.
The elite's face contorted with rage, veins throbbing visibly as he glared down at Seiya.
"How vulgar"
"So uncalled for"
The other elites sneered from the sidelines, their disdain evident.
A peach-haired elite, standing among the others, spoke with scorn. "Zihil, kill this one."
The elite Seiya held growled "Let go!"
Before Seiya could comply, Zihil wrenched free, nearly striking Seiya with the force of his motion. Wasting no time, Zihil aimed a punch, but Seiya intercepted it mid-flight. Swift as lightning, Seiya swept Zihil's legs off the floor, then delivered a bone-crushing punch that sent him crashing into a pile of chairs and tables.
Gasps echoed through the room. Eyes widened in disbelief as murmurs filled the air with mouths agape.
"He…he landed a hit! On an Elite!"
Fear crept onto their expressions as they anticipated the fallout, instinctively inching backward.
"Seiya" Hayne whispered, his voice trembling with shock. Eiro and the bruised boy behind him mirrored Hayne's astonishment, all lined up, staring in disbelief.
"Move" Seiya instructed Hayne, who hesitated before guiding the others away. The remaining elites watched silently, their expressions unreadable.
Zihil rose from the wreckage, wiping the blood from his cheek. Seiya, vigilant and ready, assumed a defensive stance, eyes locked on his opponent. Yet, Zihil did not attack immediately. Instead, he extended a hand toward Seiya, whose confusion deepened.
In a blink, an unseen force yanked Seiya toward Zihil. Thrown off balance, Seiya couldn't react in time to block the punch that crashed into his face, sending him staggering back.
Shock rippled through the room, the audience enthralled by the spectacle. Seiya barely had time to stand before Zihil was upon him again. Seiya raised a fist to counter the next blow, but the unseen force halted his punch mid-air, allowing Zihil's strike to land. Each time Seiya tried to retaliate, his limbs were immobilized by the invisible power, leaving him defenseless as Zihil's fists rained down.
Desperate, Seiya lashed out with a kick, parrying the incoming blow. Zihil caught Seiya's leg with a crushing grip, swinging him violently before yeeting him aside. Seiya's body arced, descending swiftly toward the ground where he landed on all fours in a full bridge pose, his legs and hands pressing firmly onto the ground with his body tight and gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Zihil approached with measured steps, a smug grin curling his lips. "What, think a ghost might be helping me?" he taunted, laughter reverberating in the room. "Look closer…very closely"
As he moved, a translucent substance floated just above his open palm, shimmering faintly in the dim light.
"Don't confuse this with that pitiful water ability" he continued, the disdain in his tone unmistakable. "This is slime. It may be clear like water, but it's far from it. I used just a minuscule amount, enough to escape your notice. Blame it on your skill issues for not noticing" he chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he drew nearer, relishing in his perceived superiority.
He halted, tapping his chin in mock contemplation.
"How should I end you? Block your airways with my slime? No... something more brutal."
Panic flickered in the children's eyes, Hayne's heart pounding as he watched helplessly.
Seiya forced himself to his feet, each movement labored, his face bruised and bleeding. Despite the pain, his resolve remained unshaken as he trudged forward, prepared to continue the fight.
Before he could close the distance, the elite extended his hand, and with a swift motion, ensnared Seiya in a tendril of slime. The viscous substance wrapped around him, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him against the ceiling. The slime thickened, adhering like glue to his limbs, pinning his arms and legs in place. It solidified, holding him aloft in a spread-eagle position, resembling a figure crucified against the ceiling.
"Nice view" the elite sneered, a cruel grin stretching across his face. He manipulated some slime, condensing it into a hardened spear. Without hesitation, he drove it into Seiya's stomach, the weapon drawing blood with merciless precision.
He repeated the assault, each thrust drawing more blood that dripped from Seiya's suspended form onto the ground below. The room filled with the sound of dripping blood, a reminder of the brutal punishment being inflicted.
The children stood frozen, their expression dark with faces ashen, They could only watch in helpless silence as the other elites laughed, reveling in the spectacle of Seiya's brutalization, suspended against the ceiling.
"See? This is far more entertaining!" Zihil jeered, his voice laced with malice. "No matter how many times I stab, the blood just keeps pouring." He repeatedly plunged the spear into Seiya's stomach.
Seiya, who had remained eerily silent in the face of the hell unleashed upon him, let out a soft sigh. He struggled against the unyielding slime that held him captive, his limbs straining to break free, but it was futile.
He sighed yet again, muttering under his breath. "Humans are more annoying than goblins and ants."
With a determined twist of his wrist, a sharp crack echoed through the room—his bones dislocating with a sound. As his hand dangled limply, he maneuvered it through the hardened slime that bound him, his movements fluid despite the pain.
The elite paused, his assault halted by Seiya's unexpected defiance. His eyes widened in disbelief at the sight, but slowly, a smug grin spread across his face, his excitement growing like a child watching their favorite show.
Goosebumps prickled his skin as he stepped back, eager to see what would happen next.
Seiya, unfazed, dislocated his other wrist and joints, freeing himself from the remaining restraints. With a swift adjustment, his limbs were set back into place just before he dropped to the ground.
The elite's smile widened, standing transfixed as Seiya advanced toward him. Blood poured with every step Seiya took, his appearance a bloody mess, but the rage etched across his face was unmistakable.
The rage was so evident that every muscle in Seiya's body coiled in anticipation. Why had he never considered this side of humans as annoying? Seiya pondered, the rage boiling within him.
Despite his difficulty of killing a human, the overwhelming urge to do so surged through him with every step.
Just as Seiya was about to close the distance, a figure stepped between him and the elite, arms spread wide to stop him.
"Enough!" Miss Onoya commanded, her voice cold and steady.
Seiya paused, staring at her with unblinking eyes, but he didn't challenge her. Slowly, he turned away, the fight still burning within him, but held in check by her presence.
Miss Onoya then addressed the elite, her voice laced with reprimand. "You too. Stop making a mess and comport yourself."
With a scoff, the elite turned away, silenced.
Seiya and Miss Onoya walked out, the children trailing behind them, heading back to their dorms. Eiro and Hayne watched in silence as Seiya departed, leaving with Miss Onoya, their expressions heavy with unspoken thoughts.
****
"You were exceptional back there" Miss Onoya remarked as they walked through the hallways, but Seiya's silence was her only response.
"To land a blow on an elite and hold your ground… it confirms that our efforts have not been in vain" she continued, undeterred by his lack of response.
"You've been trained with the guidance of combat instructors, given that you lack Awakened Ability. This proves that our methods are working, that you can get stronger into a weapon" she assessed, her voice steady.
Seiya, however, paid no attention to her words. He trudged forward, blood dripping from the open wound on his stomach, leaving a trail down his path.
The wrath inside him was overwhelming—an intensity that words could not capture. He was enraged by the fact that the fight had been stopped, that the elite remained unharmed. His blood seemed to boil with an unfamiliar heat.
For the first time in all his years of living, Seiya felt an emotion so fierce and consuming—anger.