Seth let out a heavy sigh, the last vestiges of Intermediate Identify’s aether receding from his eyes. He’d just scanned every single member of Elena’s squad, and the results were sobering. Of the fifty Wielders arrayed on the field, a staggering forty-one of them were Rank 60—the absolute peak of the Iron Tier.

  Marine stood poised near Elena, a marvelous bow crafted from some pale, white wood slung across her back and two short, wicked-looking daggers strapped to her thigh. She, too, was Rank 60.

  "Isn't it dangerous to have so many Rank 60s in a single squad?" Seth murmured to Henry, his gaze still on the field. "If one of them breaks through to the Silver Tier during a battle, they'll get pulled out for the next battles, right? That could deeply impact their squad coordination and teamwork."

  Henry slowly nodded. "Yeah, but ascending to the Silver Tier is extremely hard, mate. Way harder than getting into the Iron Tier. There's a solid chance not even a single one of them will manage to do it during the war, no matter how intense the fighting gets. Even the genius with all the resources like Marine Vancaws usually take two years to get past the Iron-Tier cap once they hit it."

  "Yeah, but that's under normal conditions," Seth retorted. "Attending classes, training in safe environments. During a full-blown war, with life-or-death stakes pushing them constantly, it'll likely be different."

  "Probably," Henry conceded with a shrug. "But think about it; even if one of them to break through mid-battle, imagine the advantage they’d have during that specific fight. A Silver Wielder, even if they only just ascended, would definitely turn the tide. And afterwards? The higher-ups would just slot another Wielder of a similar Rank into their squad to fill the spot."

  Before Seth could reply, a voice, amplified by aether, boomed across the open field, silencing the low murmur of the crowd.

  "Let the fight begin!"

  The moment Captain Michaelson thrust his hand down onto a raised platform at the edge of the training ground, the shimmering azure auras of Protecting Belts flared to life around each of the hundred students and they charged.

  From his vantage point in the stands, Seth had a panoramic view. The initial clash was a chaotic explosion of aether. Squad 1, Elena’s group, moved with aggressive confidence. Their frontline, a wall of heavily armored Guardians and Warriors, met Squad 4’s charge head-on. The resounding clang of metal on metal, the percussive thud of aether-enhanced blows, and the sharp crackle of spells resonated through the massive arena.

  Seth’s gaze was immediately drawn to Elena, who was positioned at the back of Squad 1’s formation. Her crimson hair seemed to blaze as she moved, her expression one of intense focus.

  Unlike the other Elementalists around her, who rapidly flung low-impact spells in every direction, the noblewoman took her time to cast. Seconds ticked by as she raised her elegant darkwood staff, sky blue aether swirling around her in intricate patterns. The air shimmered and visibly chilled under the pressure of the upcoming spell.

  Then, with a sharp motion, she thrust the staff forward.

  A volley of colossal ice spears—each ten feet long and as thick as a grown man’s thigh—materialized above her and launched themselves toward Squad 4’s frontline with terrifying speed.

  Upon impact, the large projectiles didn't just chip away at protective barriers; they them. Seth saw one unfortunate Guardian from the enemies’ squad caught by two of the spears. The blue layer of aether around him vanished in an instant, though before he could get hit by an incoming arrow, one of the ten standby instructors stepped in, deflecting the projectile and whisking the defeated Wielder from the field.

  Near Elena, Marine fought with lethal grace. The granddaughter of Marshal Vancaws didn’t bother with physical arrows; projectiles of pure, whistling wind appeared on her elegant whitewood bow with every draw instead. The arrows were nearly invisible until impact, slicing through the other squad’s barriers with startling power.

  As a nimble Rogue slipped through the front lines and charged toward Elena and the other Elementalists, Marine reacted instantly. In one smooth motion, she slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her twin daggers, the curved blades flashing in the sunlight.

  She intercepted the attacker without hesitation, meeting him head-on. At first their weapons clashed in a flurry of quick, precise strikes, but Marine’s speed and control rapidly took the advantage. Her blades began slipping through the Rogue’s defenses, forcing him back as his barrier flickered under the relentless assault.

  Moments later, the youngster staggered and fell to his knees, which resulted in an instructor intervening and removing him from the field.

  Ahead, Brandon, Elena’s twin, stood by the Guardians of Squad 1. His massive shield, emblazoned with the Surani family crest, seemed to struggle to absorb the impossible number of blows coming its way.

  Every so often, he’d slam a boot into the earth and let out a thunderous roar, and in response a jagged web of lightning tore down from the sky—Lightning Tribulation. The Two-Tiered spell crashed into the battlefield with explosive force, scattering enemy formations and leaving them exposed for his squadmates while giving him a bit of breathing room. The Guardian, despite his Epic gear and spells, was having a much harder time dealing with the Rank 50s and 60s than his sister.

  Even when fleet-footed Warriors or stealthy Rogues managed to break through the frontline, Elena handled the threats with surprising composure.

  Her arsenal of defensive spells was both varied and powerful—walls of ice erupted to intercept charges, slick patches of frost suddenly coated the ground to send attackers sprawling, gusts of freezing wind blasted back anyone who got too close. Together, they turned her into a powerful weapon on the battlefield: formidable defense and overwhelming offense.

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  The moment she was given enough uninterrupted time to cast, the noblewoman became even more terrifying. Seth watched as she spent about fifteen seconds gathering a dense, chilling mass of ice-attuned aether. The air around her turned frigid, frost creeping across the ground in all directions.

  Then, a howling blizzard exploded outward into a vortex of razor-sharp ice shards that engulfed an entire section of Squad 4. Barriers flicked and hands raised to shield faces. Half a dozen Wielders were thrown into disarray, and Squad 1’s flankers surged forward to finish the job.

  The Squad 4 immediately try to retaliate with their own firepower. At the rear of their formation, two wheeled arcane cannons unleashed steady pulses of dull orange energy—concussive blasts that hammered Squad 1’s frontline and forced Guardians to cast defensive barriers. But the artillery, while intimidating, lacked the sheer destructive power and surgical precision of Elena’s ice spells.

  Seth thought looking at the noblewoman.

  The battle raged while instructors darted in and out with increasing frequency, extracting students whose Protecting Belts had been depleted. The field had turned even more chaotic, with aetheric explosions and shouted commands echoing left and right.

  "Gods, I hope this war gives me a chance to achieve something great enough to awaken my Barbarian subclass," Henry muttered beside Seth, his eyes gleaming as he watched the carnage. "Imagine…" he began while pointing at a young man with a massive, double-bladed axe on the field. The large soldier roared, spinning in a devastating whirlwind, his weapon sending two of Squad 4’s members flying backward. "...how strong I could become!"

  "Yeah," Seth replied quietly, memories flashing through his mind—first of the brutal clash with the Barbarian Gnoll in the Desert of Misery, then the grueling fight against Ronard, the leader of the Black Hounds. "Barbarians are a real pain in the ass."

  Henry laughed. "They sure are. Which is why you want them on your side."

  As the fight wore on, Seth’s attention moved to the dozen members of Squad 1 who had already obtained a subclass. He recognized several from his academy studies: Barbarian, Weaponmaster, Crusader, Cleric, Archer… but Marine’s was new to him: .

  With a name like that, it almost certainly had something to do with those wind-forged arrows she kept conjuring. he guessed, his lips pressing into a tight line.

  Inevitably, Squad 1’s superior coordination and the sheer number of Peak-Iron Wielders began to tip the scales. Squad 4 fought with grit and determination, but they were slowly being worn down. Their arcane cannons had gone silent, their frontline was collapsing, and their numbers diminished with every passing minute.

  Soon, only a handful remained.

  At the center of the final push stood Marine, her wind arrows striking a split-second after each time she drew back the string of her bow. She brought down a retreating Warrior with a shot that curved impossibly around his raised shield before tearing through the last remaining bit of his belt’s barrier.

  Then the noblewoman turned her attention to the final member of Squad 4: an Elementalist who was gathering aether for one last, desperate spell.

  Marine didn't give him the chance.

  Her bow dissolved into a shimmer of light and her daggers flashed into her hands. She closed the distance in a heartbeat as the Elementalist, panic in his eyes, tried to shift his spell mid-cast.

  Yet before he could finish, Marine’s blades blurred in a relentless assault that took care of the poor guy in seconds. His barrier vanished, and an instructor blinked in just in time to block the next incoming slashes.

  Silence hung for a moment, broken only by the ragged breaths of the people on the field. Then the crowd erupted, rising to their feet with thunderous cheers, their voices booming across the field.

  As the triumphant members of Squad 1 began to disperse, some receiving congratulations from instructors, others already heading for the Priests’ tent, Seth noticed Elena move off to the side of the field. She leaned heavily against a large rock, her shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted from the massive aether expenditure over the last several minutes. He then saw her reach into her Endless Pouch and retrieve a familiar glowing communication orb.

  The moment Seth frowned, wondering who she’d be contacting so quickly, Nightmare spoke through Link. ''

  Seth rolled his eyes and plunged his hand into his own pouch to pull out the crystal-clear sphere the noblewoman had given him. ''

  As if on cue, it pulsed with a faint light.

  A small smile appeared on Seth’s lips, and he infused aether into his own orb.

  The noble’s reply was almost immediate.

  After a pause, the next message appeared.

  Before Seth could answer, Nightmare’s voice surged again through their bond, ' '

  ''

  '' Nightmare answered. ''

  Seth sighed inwardly and focused on the orb again.

  '' Nightmare immediately whined. 'could'

  ''

  Elena’s reply came through.

  After sending his answer, Seth pushed himself up from the bench and put the orb away in his Endless Pouch.

  "Leaving already?" Henry asked, pausing the discussion he'd been having with Eddin about the battle’s key moments.

  "Yeah," Seth said, nodding toward the field. "Watching that got me itching to test something new in one of the Training Chambers."

  Henry grinned. "Suit yourself. Just don’t make your injuries, or Nightmare’s, worse."

  "Don’t worry, we’ll be careful."

  Seth gave Henry a quick farewell and offered both Eddin and Selena a nod before making his way down from the stands. As he headed toward the academy’s Epic Training Chambers, a spark of excitement stirred in his chest.

  Ever since witnessing Elena’s devastating ice spells, one thought had been circling in his mind:

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