Chapter 176: You Have My Mark

"First, matching Aether against Aether guarantees that our total numbers drop by fifty percent in a single round, eliminating twenty of our fighters without Void people having to lift a finger."

Professor Mira took over without missing a beat. "And second, when they match you against Void students, they are not sending in random, mid tier combatants. They have carefully handpicked the matchups. They matched the Aether students they believe are our absolute strongest against other Aether students to force us to destroy each other. And the Aether students they believe are our weakest, or most vulnerable, have been paired against Void’s absolute deadliest Year 4 students."

Professor Rose laughed again, a cold, sharp sound. "It really is a brilliant system. They deserve an applause for how shamelessly corrupt it is. But the draw is locked. The committee will not change it. So your objective is simple."

She looked at each of them. "When you are fighting a fellow Aether student, hold nothing back. The stronger fighter must advance, if you know you can’t win, just forfeit, it doesn’t matter, when one of us win, we all win. But If you are fighting a Void student... win. By whatever means necessary, win."

Rose turned her eyes toward Lynx, who was leaning casually against a stone pillar, his hand resting lightly on Ava’s shoulder.

"Lynx," Rose said, her tone shifting slightly. "Because of your Phase 1 performance, you are still fighting more times. According to the full bracket breakdown, you are scheduled to fight five more times again, twice against Aether students, and three times against Void Empire Year 4s. They are going to try to wear you down through pure attrition."

Lynx didn’t even blink. He simply offered a faint, amused smile, his heterochromatic blue and silver eyes sweeping over the people. "Let them try, Professor. A pile of dry wood doesn’t become dangerous just because you add more sticks to it."

"May Goddess Shiva preserve your lives," Professor Selene said solemnly, turning back toward the arena stage. "And may the strongest among us survive."

The conversations cut short as the main arena horn sounded, a deep, reverberating tone that vibrated straight through the stone floor.

Above the arena, situated on a floating stone platform suspended by heavy wind arrays, two official tournament commentators activated their voice amplification artifacts.

Their voices boomed across the entire amphitheater, echoing off the high stone arches.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO DAY ONE OF PHASE TWO IN THE SUPREME BLESSED TOURNAMENT!" The lead commentator roared, his voice met by a deafening roar from the thousands of spectators filling the tiers.

"FIFTY MATCHES! ONE HUNDRED COMBATANTS! NO TIMEOUTS, NO SUBSTITUTIONS, AND A STRICT TWENTY MINUTE LIMIT PER MATCH! MAY THE STRONGEST WIN!"

On the central stage, the translucent defensive barrier shimmered into existence, creating an airtight, high density mana dome that separated the arena floor from the audience.

The first match of the day had already been called. A Year 4 student from Beacon Blessed Academy against a Year 4 student from Heather Blessed Academy.

Lynx watched the stage with mild interest as the referee began the fight. The fight was brutal, fast, and entirely devoid of elegance.

The Beacon student, a heavy set fighter wielding a massive tower shield made by his earth affinity tried to close the distance early, attempting to use his physical mass to pin the Heather student against the barrier edge.

However, the Heather fighter, an agile Wind affinity user, kept his distance, utilizing high velocity air blades to chip away at the shield’s structural integrity over a grueling eighteen minutes.

The crowd cheered wildly as the Beacon student stamina finally gave out, his guard dropping just enough for a compressed wind spike to catch him squarely in the chest, blasting him unconscious against the stone wall.

"MATCH ONE VICTOR: HEATHER BLESSED ACADEMY!" the commentator announced as the medics scrambled onto the platform with float stretchers. "A HARD FOUGHT EIGHTEEN MINUTE DEMONSTRATION OF STAMINA AND RANGE CONTROL!"

Inside the Aether student and professors private area, nobody cheered. They all knew what was coming next. The big screen hanging over the center of the stadium flickered, the glowing letters shifting to display the names for Match Two.

MATCH TWO: PETER MUSK (AETHER BLESSED ACADEMY) VS. AVA MUSK (AETHER BLESSED ACADEMY)

The moment the names appeared on the scrying board, the entire arena erupted into a buzz of excited chatter. Fifty thousand people all talking at once created a low, rolling thunder that shook the stone tiers.

Up in the high spectator stands, the general public and rich people leaned over their railings, pointing down at the Aether section.

"Look at that matchup! Musk against Musk!" a rich citizen from the Heather delegation remarked, taking a sip from a crystal goblet filled with dark wine. "Aren’t they brother and sister? Twins, right? I heard the Musk family is worth a fortune."

"That’s the Musk family from Aether’s Empire," his companion replied, checking a parchment manifest. "Filthy rich house. Word is they only have two Blessed descendants in this generation, and they ended up drawing each other in the very first round of Phase 2. What terrible luck. The father must be furious watching this at home."

Down on the floor of the Aether enclosure, the atmosphere was dead silent. No one was gossiping. Everyone understood what this meant. Aether was already being forced to kill its own numbers.

Professor Selene let out a tired sigh, rubbing her temple. "And so it begins. Aether versus Aether. One of our spots guaranteed to be eliminated before noon. Exactly as we said."

Peter Musk stood near the edge of the enclosure, his deep blue Aether uniform crisp, though his face was visibly pale. He possessed sharp, aristocratic features and styled blonde hair, but his posture lacked the absolute arrogance he had displayed weeks prior in the main hall. His hands were shaking slightly.

He stared across the small space at Ava.

Peter’s mind was an absolute mess. Over the past several days, he had chatted on Instalite with Daniel.

Every single conversation had ended with Daniel berating him, calling him weak for getting completely humiliated by Lynx Azarion time and time again and allowing his own sister to be pulled into Lynx’s inner orbit.

Daniel, Daniel had laughed at him. Him. Daniel who should respect him, was laughing at his predicament.

Peter hated failing. He hated feeling small. Ever since Lynx had appeared at the academy, Peter’s life had spiraled into a series of embarrassing setbacks.

Yet, as he looked at Ava, his eyes held a strange mix of deep seated bitterness and genuine, desperate affection. She was still his twin sister. He had grown up with her, shared a womb with her, learned to walk beside her. Part of him still wanted to protect her.

Ava, however, was not looking at Peter. She stood beside Lynx, her arms crossed over her chest, her long white hair swaying slightly in the draft created by the arena’s cooling arrays.

Her deep blue uniform fit her lithe, athletic frame perfectly, and her eyes, a striking, electric blue, were fixed squarely on the stage ramp. She looked like a completely different person from the girl Peter had grown up with. Stronger, colder to him, more beautiful than ever.

Peter took a hesitant step toward her, his voice low and pleading. "Ava... please..."

Ava didn’t even turn her head. Her face was completely cold, her expression devoid of any warmth or familial recognition. She did not acknowledge his existence.

Lynx turned his head, looking down at Ava with a calm, reassuring gaze. He reached out, his hand resting gently on the side of her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline with slow, intimate affection. His touch was possessive but gentle.

"Don’t hold back on him, Ava," Lynx murmured softly, his voice carrying an effortless authority that instantly settled any lingering doubts in her mind. "He’s going to throw everything he has because his pride is on the line."

"Your father is watching this match from the comfort of his house right now. Show him that stepping into my shadow was the greatest choice you ever made. Don’t give Peter an inch. Make him understand what you have become. You have my mark, you are my woman."

Lynx leaned down and pressed a deep, firm kiss onto her lips, completely unbothered by the fact that Peter, Julian, and half the students were watching them. The kiss was not quick. It was slow and deliberate, a statement.

Ava leaned into the kiss, her eyes closing for a brief second as Lynx’s passive, transcendent aura washed over her, filling her mana circuits with a surge of electric vitality. When Lynx pulled back, Ava’s electric blue eyes were blazing with absolute, unwavering focus. Her mana was humming.

"I won’t lose, Lynx," she said quietly, her voice filled with absolute certainty. "I will not embarrass you."

She turned on her heel and walked up the stone ramp toward the central stage, her boots clicking cleanly against the hard floor. Each step was precise and confident.

Peter’s face flushed a dark, angry red as he watched Lynx kiss his sister. The sheer disrespect of it burned through his chest like acid.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He cast a look of pure, unadulterated hatred toward Lynx, but Lynx didn’t even bother looking back at him. To Lynx, Peter was simply a temporary obstacle for Ava to step over on her way up, not even worth a second glance.

Gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached, Peter turned and stormed up the opposite side of the ramp, stepping into the ring.