Battle Dome Sector 3, Arena C8
Now Eight arenas ran lives across the outer stadium zones, each marked by glowing barriers and cheering classmates seated by section tier.
Fan Yumei strolled back to her spot near the middle bleachers, flipping the receipt stub from the betting booth between her fingers. Her coin balance was a bit lighter, but she'd made smart wagers—mostly.
"I put five hundred on Jin for full sweep," she muttered to herself. "Let's hope the snacks fund triples."
Maxius preened as she sat, leaning against the railing. Lufei quietly made room beside her with a flick of her tail.
"Did I miss anyone fun?"
"Nope," came the dry reply from one of the nearby students. "Just a nice Elite 3 round tangle in Arena C8. Nothing to fancy. You're right on time."
They all turned toward Arena C8 as a new round loaded.
Two dual-type a wizard and Mage entered the ring—one lightning, one wind. The clash was mostly loud, full of flying kicks and spinning disruptions, but lacked the raw technical polish Yumei preferred.
Still, she watched, notebook in hand, occasionally murmuring:
"Footwork too wide… good use of echo-disruption though. That's storm boots, not wind qi alone…"
The class from A-6 stirred when a voice echoed overhead:
"Next match Arena C6 : Class A-6's Jin Minhe versus Class B-6's Bao Lei! Three-round format—combat-only, qi-only, and weapons-only rounds!"
Lufei's ears perked. Maxius gave a single, sharp whistle. Yumei smirked.
"Let's see if our tiny sniper walks the walk."
⸻
🔰 Round 1 – Hand-to-Hand Combat Only
[2 minutes to enter arena before is considered automatic Forfeit]
——-
No weapons. No beasts. No qi use. Pure physical martial combat.
The bell rang.
Jin Minhe stepped forward in silence, expression calm and unreadable. His posture was relaxed—too relaxed, some thought—but every motion was precise. Across from him, Bao Lei from Class B-6 cracked his knuckles and smirked, already bouncing in place.
"You sure you're awake, kid?" Bao taunted, rolling his shoulders. "Hope you're not one of those quiet types that go down easy."
Jin didn't reply. He just blinked once.
They clashed.
Bao lunged immediately with a wide hook aimed at Jin's head. Jin shifted subtly—just a breath's worth—and the blow passed cleanly through empty air.
"Whoa!"
"He didn't even dodge! He just… moved his head?!"
Jin's counterstrike was sharp and surgical. A palm slammed into Bao's ribs, the thump echoing off the walls. Before Bao could grunt in pain, Jin followed up with a ruthless elbow to the temple, pivoting as he moved. Bao stumbled, eyes wide and arms flailing.
"He's dismantling him!"
"He didn't even flinch!"
Jin closed the gap again and drove another palm strike into Bao's chest, forcing him back half a step before rolling around to his blind side.
Bao whirled with a desperate low kick—but Jin jumped with effortless lightness, twisting midair like a drifting feather. He landed behind Bao without a sound.
"Yo! This guy's floating!"
"He moves like he's made of smoke!"
Fan Yumei leaned forward in her seat, arms crossed. A smile flickered at the edge of her lips.
"Show-off."
Bao spun again, this time with a wild uppercut. Jin ducked cleanly, eyes narrowing. Two fingers darted out like a needle strike—piercing a pressure point along Bao's shoulder.
Bao's dominant arm dropped uselessly at his side. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"He just shut down his arm!"
"That wasn't just brute force…"
Jin stepped in and delivered a final blow: an open-palm strike just beneath Bao's chin. Bao's head snapped back, and his knees folded.
He hit the mat with a dull thud.
Silence.
Then—
"WOOOO!"
"Did he just one-round that guy without breaking a sweat?!"
"DID YOU SEE HIS FACE?! Still looks like he's doing math homework!"
Even a few B-6 students exchanged mutters of disbelief.
The referee raised a hand. "Winner of Round One: Jin Minhe!"
Cheers erupted from the A-6 section, joined by murmurs of amazement from others. A few instructors leaned toward each other, scribbling down quiet notes.
Yumei shook her head. "He fights like he folds laundry."
"That was laundry?" a nearby student said. "That looked like tactical assassination!"
⸻
🔥 Round 2 – Qi Use Only (No Weapons or Beasts)
——-
All elemental qi, internal qi, runes, spells, and curse techniques allowed.
The referee barely finished announcing the Round 1 result before Bao Lei forced himself up again, breathing heavy.
"I'm not done yet," he growled, eyes locked on Jin. "Round two. I'm taking you down!"
Jin remained still.
The referee gave a nod. "Begin."
Bao surged forward, fists alight with roaring fire qi. His arms blazed like twin torches as he punched out two wave blasts.
Jin's qi surged—not in a flare, but in a coiled, controlled burst. Fire qi, but a deeper red—a refiner's fire, dense and stable.
He raised one hand.
A devouring rune flashed into existence across his palm.
Bao's attacks vanished into it—consumed whole.
"What the hell?!"
"He absorbed the flame?!"
Yumei narrowed her eyes. "He's using his Glutton Panda's trait—qi absorption synergy. That's not normal fire refiner control."
Jin didn't wait.
He gathered his fire qi and formed a spell serpent, glowing with burning runes.
"Fire Devouring Serpent," he said quietly.
The construct burst forward, flaming coils hissing. Bao tried to blast it with another barrage, but his fire was devoured mid-flight.
The serpent hit him square in the shoulder and exploded in a burst of refiner-grade heat. Bao stumbled back, his sleeve scorched.
"He's cooking him alive!"
"No—he's dissecting him."
Bao gathered his last qi and threw a double-palmed arc.
Jin calmly etched a compression rune with his heel.
The fire dome activated just in time.
BOOM.
Bao's attack exploded—and rebounded. Fire surged outward and slammed Bao into the far barrier.
He groaned, trying to rise.
["Round Two—Jin Minhe!"]
⸻
🗡️ Round 3 – Weapons Only (Qi-Assist Allowed, No Direct Spells or Runes for Attacking ,no beast)
——-
Weapons only. No offensive spells or beasts. Support qi forms allowed for reinforcement or motion.
Bao pulled his saber. Jin unsheathed a slim soulsteel short staff, faintly glowing with passive runic fire etchings. No active spellcasting—not allowed.
The bell rang.
Bao charged.
Steel clashed. Jin flowed.
He deflected two slashes, spun behind his back, and caught Bao's saber wrist. With a flick of the staff's end, he cracked the knuckles—Clack!
Bao's saber dropped.
Bao roared and punched—but Jin rode the force, spun, and drove the other end into Bao's lower back. The boy dropped to a knee.
Final charge—Bao came again.
Jin lowered the staff and tapped Bao's chest.
Bao froze, chest heaving—then slumped.
"Match over! Winner of all three rounds—Jin Minhe!"
The audience erupted.
Fan Yumei leaned back, and laughed in excitement.
"Well. There goes my five hundred coin x 3. Which means … I won 4,500 federation coin from this match… so much money." She gasped silently patting her chest to calm her fast beating heart.
Lufei flicked her tail smugly. Maxius gave a low satisfied chirp.
"Looks like our classmate just gained a fan club," Yumei added.
The rest of the morning battles flew by, a blur of noise, bruises, and blinding qi flashes.
Fan Yumei and Jin Minhe pushed through each of their rounds with mechanical focus, barely pausing between some matches. By the time the afternoon began to settle, both had completed all thirty battles—scarred, sweaty, and standing.