Embarrassment had turned to anger—it was like trying to quench a fire with petroleum. A truly hazardous situation was about to unfold, with emotions blazing beyond control.
Two individuals with the intent to probably kill each other, whether to gain supremacy or to commit murder. The pressure they brought and exuded clearly showed a clash was imminent, prompting everyone else to create space. The atmosphere around them thickened, almost suffocating, from the killing intent.
It wasn't every day you saw a fight happen, especially since it was against the rules to fight outside the school's arenas—a place created specifically for students who challenged each other. Squabbles between students were common, and the academy was aware of that. The arenas were built to contain such intensity, unlike the casual openness of the cafeteria.
Still, if any teacher caught them fighting here in the cafeteria, punishment was certain. So, it was best to give them space and not get caught in the middle of the fight—otherwise, one could easily end up dead.
In an instant, Borack phased from his position and appeared before Malik—his movement so fast and seamless it looked like teleportation. His arm drawn back mid-air, a fist flying straight at him. Malik was completely overwhelmed by the move—he had only blinked once, and the protagonist was already in front of him.
Unfortunately, there was no time to dodge the fist that cut through the air like a meteorite—its speed and force devastating, as if it could obliterate him.
'This guy's quite dangerous!' Malik thought anxiously, panic kicking in.
As an instinctive measure, a green, smoke-like aura suddenly corroded the air around him—his corrosive barrier, a defense formed from the essence of his ability. Just as the fist was about to hit its target, it stopped—bashed against the air, meeting hard resistance.
It was a barrier formed from the green aura surrounding Malik. Though saying he stopped the fist was an understatement—it merely held it still, the fist struggling to move forward against the dense, poisonous wall.
'What exactly is this guy? It's not deflecting, even though I poured fifty percent of my lumina into it.'
This was his ability: Manipulation of Poison Flames—the control of a corrosive green fire. When the flames weren't strong enough to burn the target, they poisoned them instead, slowing their movements and giving Malik the upper hand. The smoke corroded air and matter alike, carrying a toxic sting.
He just needed it to make contact—skin contact to be precise—and then the opponent would be done for. That was the plan. However, after the fist made contact, Malik attempted to inject his poison into its host, but it was being expelled by some strange and dominant aura. It surrounded the enemy like an unseen armor—a powerful, internal aura defense that pushed back against foreign energies.
It acted as a protective shield against the poison, which made Malik's face twist with uncertainty and fear. If he couldn't immobilize his enemy, then how could he possibly fight this guy? Now, with a slightly cooler head, he could sense the aura of this individual—and gauge what level he might be.
'Fucking hell! An Elementis? I was picking a fight with a Level 3?! Malik, you fucker... you're really screwed now...'
His thoughts hadn't even finished—he hadn't even fully processed his panic—when he was kneed in the abdomen, knocking the air out of him. A sharp, unpleasant pain rushed to his brain. As if that wasn't enough, another heavy kick to the side of the head sent him flying.
He was tossed aside like some disposable rag doll, crashing through tables and writhing in pain—the once-cocky fighter now broken and sprawled in the wreckage.
Well, it did not stop there, as Borack, who was not in control, leaped into the air with grace and landed right on top of Malik.
A painful grunt escaped his lips as the air in his lungs was forcefully pushed out of his holes. The ground might not have been that hard, but a few bones could have possibly cracked in response.
Still, Borack wasn't satisfied. He landed something else—a fist this time—on poor Malik's pitiful face. It was a strong and blunt impact that would definitely cause internal injuries.
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
The action repeated, blows coming from the left and right, completely overwhelming him. Flashes of white light were all he could see from each side, as his head rang with an unpleasant rhythm.
His head was mercilessly bashed in. It got to the point that a small crater had formed from the back of his head bouncing off the ground.
Bam!
Ding!
[Quest completed]
One last blow to the side of the skull ended the brutal battery—a conduct of pure rage. This was only due to the completion of the mission, or else he could have kept going.
'It was quite thrilling,' he thought.
[You can now claim your reward.]
[Phantom Howl]
Within the soul space, Victor—who partly had control of his own body—suddenly experienced everything around him turning blank. It was like switching off a light bulb, leaving only obsidian darkness to dominate a kingdom of absolute nothingness.
Surprisingly, just as it turned blank, the light returned. But this time, something was amiss.
The scenery had utterly changed, as had the landscape. A ghost town appeared, with rundown wooden houses that seemed to be on their last legs. Broken windows and shards of glass lay scattered in an uncoordinated manner.
Sharp, pencil-thin winds tore through his skin—wild and untamed. The cold temperature froze every breath exhaled, making it feel as though he were inhaling shards of icy glass.
Awoooooo!!!
Suddenly, from a distance, a deafening howl was heard, and immediately, everything came to a halt. The winds stopped, the cold air stilled—nothing was felt or heard. It all completely pulsed into silence.
Then, a figure appeared a few meters away. It was a seven-foot-tall great gray wolf, standing proud with all its majestic presence, emitting a bloodthirsty aura and an intent to cause carnage in its wake.
'A werewolf,' he whispered within his thoughts.
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