A/N Big thanks to everyone for the Power stones and Golden tickets, they mean a lot. As usual, please don't hesitate to comment or drop a review. ENJOY)

Power stones people, Gimme it.

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They found seats easily enough—halfway up the stone bleachers, with a clear view of the ring. The noise wrapped around them instantly: shouts, groans, quick breaths, cheers. It was raw, unfiltered energy.

In the arena, three older students were already going at it.

No spells.

No enhancements.

No mana techniques.

Just pure, brutal strength.

The ring was a rough pit, circled by low stone walls. The fighters weren't evenly matched in size, but they didn't fight like amateurs—they grappled, struck, twisted, countered. Every movement was sharpened by experience.

It reminded Orion of wrestling back on Earth.

The rules were similar—pin, force a submission, or knock someone down long enough. No killing intent. Just technique layered over instinct.

Arlen leaned forward instantly, eyes bright. "The guy in orange is winning. We should bet on him."

"No, we shouldn't," Caelum said without missing a beat.

"But he's dominating—"

"That's not the point," Erevan interrupted with a light chuckle.

Arlen had no comeback to that.

Orion let their bickering fade into background noise. His eyes drifted upward toward the elevated structures on the far walls—small balconies built of reinforced metal and glass, shaped like personal viewing boxes.

VIP booths.

His spatial sense brushed against them—

—and met resistance.

Not strong resistance, but layered. As if breaching the interior required serious effort and time.

But this wasn't what he came here for, so he pulled his awareness back and turned his attention to the arena.

Below, the fighter in orange slammed another down with a heavy thud. The crowd roared. Dust rose. Sweat glistened under the dim red lighting.

Thaddeus exhaled softly. "Do you think they'd let us fight here?"

Caelum raised a brow. "You want to fight here?"

Thaddeus shrugged, expression relaxed. "Just for fun. And I'm sure they're getting paid one way or another."

"Yes, they do actually."

The unfamiliar voice came from behind.

Orion didn't move. He had sensed her before she even approached—the flicker of mana, the soft but calculated steps, the little spike of tension at the moment she decided to speak to them.

He just hadn't expected her to come directly.

The group turned.

A girl stood there—silver hair, unmistakably Chronos. Bright green eyes and a posture too relaxed to be natural. She looked thirteen or fourteen, dressed casually, hands folded neatly behind her back.

She smiled. "They get paid quite a lot, actually. Painful, yes. But the prize for winning is very high. Even the losers get payment."

"Is that so?" Erevan said, amused. "You sound like you're the one controlling the fights."

"And what makes you think I'm not?" she replied sweetly.

Erevan turned back toward the ring, smirking. "She thinks we're stupid."

Her smile twitched.

Thaddeus tilted his head. "You want us to fight."

"You sounded interested," she said, smile returning instantly, though her eyes flickered just a bit.

Orion simply returned his attention to the arena. Whatever her goal was, he had no interest in getting dragged into it. Not yet.

Thaddeus kept staring at her. Finally, the girl shifted nervously and tried again, "Is something on my face?"

"No," Thaddeus said flatly. "You're faking that nervousness. Stop. It's embarrassing."

Her eyelid twitched.

"You want something from us," he continued, sighing. "It's obvious. You've been watching us since we walked in. Now unless you're ready to be honest, you can excuse yourself."

The transformation was instant.

Her smile snapped off.

Her posture straightened.

Her eyes cooled.

Her mana, once faint, pulsed sharply.

"No one likes a know-it-all ," she said calmly. "I tried the easy way. Now I'll try the hard way."

Mana curled around her like a slow-burning flame.

Thaddeus winced. "Eesh. Wrong reply."

The five boys rose.

Every playful expression they had vanished.

Behind the girl, shapes began forming in the dim light—students stepping out of shadowed corridors, out from behind pillars, closing the distance. Five… eight… twelve?

They weren't all strong.

But their intent wasn't noble.

Arlen muttered, "We didn't even get to finish the match…"

Caelum rolled his shoulders slightly, expression cold. "Just don't break the seats."

Erevan was smiling faintly, but his eyes weren't.

The girl's group fanned out behind her, forming a semicircle. Some cracked their knuckles; others let mana leak through their fingers. None were touching the arena—fighting inside the ring had rules. Fighting outside it clearly didn't.

Erevan tilted his head. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

Thaddeus sighed heavily. "I really wasn't in the mood for this."

Just as someone behind her stepped forward, another voice cut cleanly through the tension:

"This is highly unexpected."

It wasn't loud.

But it sliced through the noise of the arena, through the jeers and cheers, through the makeshift crowd of hostile students gathering around them.

Everyone froze.

Even the girl.

Orion's eyes narrowed a fraction, head tilting as he turned.

Someone stood a few steps behind the hostile group—someone who didn't rush, didn't posture, didn't flare mana. He simply walked into the space, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed.

Students parted around him instinctively.

Not out of fear.

Out of recognition.

Orion's mind sharpened.

The voice belonged to someone who was used to being listened to. Someone whose presence bent the room slightly without force.

The girl's expression stiffened.

Some of her backup shifted uneasily.

A few drew in their mana, unsure.

The boy kept approaching the center of the slowly forming circle.

A hush washed across the area near them.

Orion watched him closely.

Bright silver hair.

Icy blue eyes.

Casual posture that didn't match the tightening atmosphere.

He wasn't smiling.

He didn't look angry either.

He simply studied the scene as if evaluating which part of it annoyed him more—the girl's theatrics, the crowd forming, or the fact that five first-years were being provoked in a place that wasn't meant for this kind of confrontation.

He stopped just a few steps away.

The girl swallowed.

Arlen whispered under his breath, "Who the hell is this?"

Erevan narrowed his eyes. "Someone important."

The boy's gaze finally drifted to Orion.

Their eyes met.

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