CHAPTER 156: LOST PRIDE

Tasha’s thunderous display had left everyone in awe. But the next match the screen displayed put them in excitement.

[Carl Danvers, Class 3-A vs Jared Anders, Class 3-B]

[Modifier: Ability]

The arena shifted again—this time transforming into a jagged volcanic pit, the floor cracked and glowing with faint orange embers beneath semi-transparent rock. Gouts of steam hissed from vents in the floor. It was a place where the wrong step could mean a singed foot... or worse.

From the stands, murmurs rippled:

"Volcanic stage?"

"Wow! I’m impressed."

"This is gonna be wild..."

Carl stepped forward first, eyes burning with pride as his adoring fans called out his name, especially the girls. He made his way to the arena with a smirk. He was way stronger than his opponent, who was only at level 17. While he was at 19.

He rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles, flames flickering at the tips of his fingers.

"Let’s make this quick" he muttered, stepping into the arena.

Then came Jared, his head held high. To him, two levels apart meant nothing. And he was certain that if he defeated Carl here, he would become more popular than ever.

"Hope your fire can keep up," Jared said, voice cocky. "Because I don’t miss."

Carl just grinned. "Good. I don’t expect you to." he retorted. He also had a determination to win not just this match, but the entire tournament so as to redeem himself for losing to Jayden in the martial arts duel.

From the sidelines, Jayden raised a brow. "Two ranged types... This should be fun."

Mrs. Valerie’s voice echoed.

"Combatants—Ready."

The air thrummed with heat.

"Begin!"

ZAAAAP!!

Jared moved first. Twin beams of blue energy lanced from his palms with surgical precision—one aimed at Carl’s shoulder, the other at his thigh.

BOOM-BOOM!

Carl barely rolled aside, the heat of the blasts scorching his jacket sleeve.

He retaliated instantly... FWOOSH! with a column of flame that erupted from the ground beneath Jared, forcing him to leap high and twist midair.

The crowd erupted as the two exchanged attacks in a blur—Jared’s lasers carving trenches through the volcanic floor while Carl hurled spirals of flame, forcing Jared to keep moving.

"Can’t hit me, fire boy!" Jared taunted, flipping back and firing a rapid barrage.

ZAP-ZAP-ZAP-ZAP!!

Carl raised both arms and slammed them together, summoning a spinning firewall that absorbed the beams with a burst of sparks.

He charged through it, eyes blazing.

"Let’s see you dodge this—!"

WHOOM!!

He thrust both fists forward, unleashing a wave of fire in a wide arc. Jared ducked and rolled, but Carl anticipated the move... he slammed his foot into the floor, triggering an underground ignition.

KRAK-BOOM!!

Fire exploded beneath Jared, catching his leg and sending him tumbling back.

The crowd howled.

Jared gritted his teeth. "Okay. No more games."

The light in his palms pulsed.

He dropped to one knee, charging energy into his hands.

"Let’s see how you handle this—"

ZEEEEEEEEMMMMMMMMMMMMM—!!!

A concentrated beam of raw energy blasted from both palms, a piercing drill of blue-white destruction aimed dead center at Carl.

Carl didn’t move.

He planted his feet. A wild grin split across his face.

"Come on then," he growled. "Let’s burn."

He drew in both arms, fire coiling like serpents around his shoulders, and blasted forward... rocket-jumping through the air on a tail of flame, just above the beam’s trajectory.

"No way!" Jared yelled.

Mid-flight, Carl spun, his entire body now wreathed in fire.

He slammed into Jared with the force of a meteorite, fists blazing, the air crackling with superheated pressure.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The shockwave knocked several students back in their seats.

Jared’s body smashed into the ground, skidding across molten rock before crashing into a pillar and slumping to the floor, smoke trailing from his tracksuit.

Silence. Then—

A faint groan. Jared’s hand twitched... but he didn’t rise.

Mrs. Valerie stepped forward.

"Since participant Jared is unable to continue.." she raised her head.

[Winner: Carl Danvers, Class 3-A]

The crowd exploded.

"CARL! LET’S GO!!"

"He really tanked that beam and flew through it?"

"That’s insane!"

"I love you Carl." some girls screamed.

Carl stood over Jared’s downed body, chest heaving, flames flickering off his shoulders. Slowly, he turned to face the stands and raised a fist, letting it erupt in flame before extinguishing it with a casual wave.

He had finally managed to get back his lost glory. But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied. Not yet. Not until he took down Jayden himself.

Back in the crowd, Jessica scoffed. "He’s a showoff. I hope he gets paired with Tasha and gets his ass fried." she muttered in disdain.

Cassandra grinned. "I bet I could take him. Then we’ll see whose flames are hotter."

Jayden chuckled. He had no doubt that Tasha or Cassandra could actually fight Carl and win. But he began to get curious about something.

"I wonder who would win if we were to fight."

Back in the arena, the stage began to shift again as Mrs. Valerie raised her hand.

"Next match..."

The holographic screen flickered, revealing the next matchup:

[Brandon Holt, Class 3-A vs. Michael Mills, Class 3-C]

[Modifier: Martial Arts]

A murmur spread through the crowd. Brandon.. one of Carl’s lackeys, the same guy Jayden had beat up in the bathroom weeks ago—stood up with a sharp grin. His knuckles were already taped, his stance coiled with aggression.

"Finally," he muttered, rolling his neck. "A chance to show what I’m really made of."

Michael, a wiry but skilled close-combat fighter from Class 3-C, stepped forward as well, cracking his fingers. "Hope you’re ready to eat dirt, Holt."

Brandon just smirked. "Funny. I was gonna say the same thing."

The arena shifted into a traditional dojo-style mat, stripped of any terrain advantages. Pure, unarmed combat.

Mrs. Valerie’s voice rang out. "Ready?"

Both fighters nodded.

"Begin!"

Michael moved first... fast, precise. A spinning heel kick lashed out toward Brandon’s temple.

WHOOSH!

Brandon ducked, letting the kick sail over his head before countering with a brutal uppercut to Derek’s ribs.

CRACK!

Derek gasped, stumbling back. Brandon didn’t let up.

A blur of fists followed... hooks, jabs, elbows—each strike landing with surgical precision. Derek blocked some, but the sheer ferocity of Brandon’s assault overwhelmed him.

"What the hell?!"someone shouted.

"Since when was Brandon this good?!"

Carl watched, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face. "He’s been training."

Michael spat blood, his stance wavering. "Tch... lucky hits."

Brandon’s grin turned savage. "Let’s test that theory."

He feinted left, then blitzed right, his shin crashing into Michael’s thigh in a crippling low kick.

THUD!

Michael’s leg buckled.

Brandon grabbed his head and yanked him forward and slammed his knee into Michael’s face.

CRUNCH.

Blood sprayed.

The crowd winced collectively.

Michael crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Silence.

Then—

[Winner: Brandon Holt – 3-A]

Brandon exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he stepped back.

Mrs. Valerie gave him a sharp look. "Excessive force. Watch it, Holt."

Brandon shrugged, walking off with a cocky stride. "He should’ve blocked."

The crowd was split.. some impressed, others disturbed.

But one thing was clear:

Brandon wasn’t the same pushover anymore. And that was bad news for the ones that got constantly bullied by him.

As he took his seat, the holographic screen flickered, only to display his name again, but this time against the one and only...

[Brandon Holt, Class 3-A vs Jayden Starrk, 3-C]

[Modifier: Ability]

Brandon’s breath caught. Seeing that name sent chills down his spine. He remembered his last encounter with Jayden... the eyes, the ferocity, how he got his head bashed into the wall.. constantly.

All the confident and smug attitude he was putting on earlier completely vanished and got replaced with fear.

Jayden, meanwhile, stood up without a word, hands in his pockets, and began making his way toward the arena with the casual ease of someone taking a stroll.

Brandon didn’t move.

Mrs. Valerie’s sharp voice cut through the noise. "Holt. The arena. Now."

Brandon flinched, his throat dry. Slowly, mechanically, he stood. His legs felt like lead as he forced himself forward, each step heavier than the last.

Jessica, watching from the stands, blinked in disbelief. "Wait... is he scared of Jayden?"

Carl’s eyes narrowed. He’d never seen Brandon look like this—not even when facing upperclassmen.

Brandon reached the arena floor, his breathing shallow. Jayden stood across from him, expression unreadable, golden eyes half-lidded in boredom.

Mrs. Valerie studied Brandon’s pale face for a moment before sighing. "Are you two ready?"

"Yeah," Jayden said simply.

Brandon opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Valerie raised an eyebrow. "Holt?"

Brandon swallowed hard.

She tilted her head, voice lowering just enough for him to hear. "You can forfeit if you want. No shame in it. Just say the word, and the match is over."

Brandon’s eyes widened. Salvation.

For a brief, blissful moment, he was ready to do it, to throw his hands up and walk away, pride be damned. But then, something dawned on him. His reputation. His standing. Carl’s expectations. He couldn’t just throw all that away and be hailed as a coward.

But then he looked at Jayden again.

Those eyes.

That presence.

"I..." Brandon’s voice cracked. He took a deep breath. Then, in the loudest, most pathetic squeak of his life.

"I forfeit."

Silence.

Then, the crowd exploded.

"What?! Just like that?"

"Coward! He didn’t even try."

"I can’t believe he just quit. After all the confident display he put up earlier."

"I was even going to give him a chance to date me, but not anymore. I can’t date a coward."

The students murmured. But Brandon didn’t care. Relief flooded through him like a tidal wave. He didn’t care about the boos, the laughter, the disappointed looks. He was alive.

Mrs. Valerie sighed, shaking her head. "Winner by default—Jayden Starrk."

Jayden didn’t even smirk. He just turned and walked off, as if the whole thing had been a waste of his time.

Carl’s jaw tightened. "Pathetic," he muttered, though part of him understood.

Jessica burst out laughing. "Oh my god, that was hilarious!"

Tasha shook her head, amused. "I mean... it’s a smart move, honestly. Jayden would’ve won anyways."

Brandon hurried back to his seat, ignoring the jeers. He’d take humiliation over a hospital bed any day.

Meanwhile, Jayden sat back down, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Well," he mused, "I didn’t expect that."

The tournament continued.

But one thing was clear... Jayden’s reputation had just reached terrifying new heights.

And Brandon?

He was just glad to still have teeth.