Liliana walked into the class S waiting room and was almost immediately tackled in a hug by Marianne, the princess gripping tightly as if Liliana had been gone for years instead of mere moments.

“You were merciless Lili! It was beautiful.” Marianne gushed, voice tinted with envy and awe.

Liliana felt her cheeks darken in embarrassment. Coughing lightly, she turned her head aside to hide her face, and her blush, slightly.

“He looked like he saw Mors out there. He was so traumatized.” Emyr snickered, in a surprisingly good mood for someone who had presumably lost gold betting against her.

The ruthlessness of her victory had probably mollified him. Emyr had always enjoyed seeing someone be utterly destroyed. Liliana thought his mean streak was the reason they were so close. He recognized and embraced her darker traits.

“I think that was the fastest fight so far.” Basil hummed, head tilted thoughtfully, a playful smirk flickering over his lips.

“Gods, I hope my opponent isn’t like that.” Rathwater groaned, looking almost as shell-shocked as Blythe had been.

“I doubt there’s anyone quite like Lili in our year.” Alistair tugged Liliana into another hug when she finally extricated herself from Marianne’s octopus like grip and walked back to her friends. “My sister is special, after all.” Alistair declared proudly, crushing her to his chest with no small amount of strength. She’d swear she heard bones pop in her back. She had to wonder if Alistair just didn’t realize quite how strong he was now.

“She is certainly unique.” Koth’talan’s deadpan voice wouldn’t be considered teasing by most, but she could see it in the way his lips quirked in the smallest smile when Liliana could finally squirm away from Alistair’s best attempts to suffocate her.

His smile held a tinge of relief to it as well, showing he was glad she had won, and returned to them. Not that he’d ever say that. Liliana was fairly certain he’d sooner pull a tooth out before he did something as horrifying as admitting he honestly enjoyed her company and saw her as a friend.

“Yes, yes, bow before your goddess mortals.” Liliana rolled her eyes, voice a sarcastic drawl as she dropped onto the plush couch her group had commandeered. Marianne settled down next to her, pressed tightly to her side.

“Oh, how could we forget we’re in the presence of divinity?” Emyr snorted, sketching out a mocking bow from his seat.

“Keep it up and she might smite you!” Alistair joked, shoving Emyr lightly.

“Well, if her holiness would permit it, the next fight is starting.” Koth’talan pointed out, nodding at the illusion where two new students were walking out.

Alfred Brewster of class D and Dexter Mercer of class D as well. Liliana wondered if the two were friends or- oh, most certainly not. Mercer had just spat on the ground at Brewster’s feet, face twisted in an ugly sneer. This fight would be personal, and all the more enjoyable to watch because of it.

“Isn’t Mercer the son of a count?” Alistair asked.

Emyr nodded thoughtfully, eyes locked on the illusion, undoubtedly analyzing already, picking out weaknesses and strengths, secrets hidden in the way someone held themselves or moved.

“Under the western duchy.” Emyr muttered softly. So one of the two duchies not represented in this room. Liliana was fairly certain the other duchies had heirs close in age to Alistair and Basil, though she did not know them personally. Caspian Drisbow was the eastern duchy heir, and Lorelei Rothsmar was the western duchy heir. If she remembered correctly, Caspian was seventeen and Lorelei was eighteen.

Liliana would’ve called it a coincidence if she didn’t know the duchies regularly had children around the same time, in the hopes of pairing their children together. Other nobles had always followed the trends set by the duchies. Heirs of nobility were almost always in a similar age bracket, allowing them to grow up together and build ties that would transfer when they came into their power. It was an effective strategy, if a bit weird to her Earth sensibilities, that an entire class of people scheduled their children’s births.

Liliana focused back on the match, as it was called to start. Runes appeared on Mercer, a glowing web of mystic symbols that burned brightly on any clear inch of skin on the boy, which was quite a lot as he had foregone a shirt. Blazing runes painted his skin like magical tattoos, and Mercer threw his head back in a roar.

“Barbarian or berserker class?” Liliana theorized when Mercer pounded his fists together and charged at Brewster.

“Probably the first one we’ve seen so far.” Marianne commented, face curious as she watched the fight.

Brewster pulled a claymore from his storage, hefting the large blade without strain as he met Mercer in the middle of the ring. The large blade cut through the air, a distortion in the air around it, like a heat haze.

“Fire and Heat for Brewster.” Emyr commented as they watched white flames flickering across the metal of the blade.

Mercer caught the blade with both hands before it could bisect him. Smoke rose from where his flesh touched the metal, but his shield was barely tinted as the runes flared brighter at the damage.

“Berserker for sure,” Alistair observed when Mercer let out another roar and shoved the blade away with enough strength to send Brewster stumbling.

He hardly got his blade back between him and his opponent in time to block a speeding fist. The impact sent Brewster skidding back, feet digging trenches in the sand. Brewster shot back at Mercer. He slashed through the air at Mercer and his blade extended, darkness and flame lengthening the blade and crashing into Mercer.

Mercer raised an arm to block, but his shield finally took on a light yellow tint as the damage registered. The damage only seemed to further empower Mercer, and he pushed through it. A flurry of powerful blows exchanged, blade and empowered fists connecting with a strength that had sand flying around the pair.

Brewster’s skills and spells seemed to be focused solely around empowering his blade. Shadows, flames and heat dancing across it, extending his reach, adding power to every strike. Mercer, by contrast, seemed to only have skills and spells that empowered his body, muscles bulging and flexing with each added skill, fists undoubtedly creating thunderous booms with each strike.

They were well matched, two powerhouse attackers focused entirely on Strength, Endurance and Vitality. Neither could be called fast, but the power in their attacks would’ve been enough to end Liliana in two blows.

However, where Brewster seemed conscious of his health, avoiding and blocking hits with his sword, Mercer took the opposite approach. He had no weapons to block and no defensive abilities. He got stronger as his shield tinted closer and closer to red, but all that power would be useless if he got knocked out.

The fight was approaching its end, Mercer’s shield a light red, Brewster’s a deep yellow by contrast. Both boys were panting heavily, the fight having gone on for over ten minutes at this point. Mercer’s muscles had bulged almost ridiculously with every power up he got from his class and runes. Brewster had more health left, but Liliana was certain if Mercer landed one hit as jumped up as he was, it would end the fight.

Mercer seemed to realize that and made a last charge at Brewster, powerful legs coiling and propelling him in the air as he pulled his hand back for a final, devastating hit. Brewster pulled his sword back, arms tense and taut as he waited.

When Mercer was almost on top of him, Brewster struck, sword moving with a speed they hadn’t seen before, white flames dancing hungrily across it, threaded through with shadows. Steel met flesh and for a moment Mercer hung in the air before he was shot across the coliseum, the hit so powerful Liliana could see the shock wave roll across the sands.

Mercer’s shield was red before his body plowed into the ground, leaving a crater around his stilled form.

“Well then,” Alistair whistled lowly, eyebrows raised.

“Anya would’ve loved that fight.” Liliana sighed, imaging the wolf girl cheering over such a physical fight. She probably was cheering from the stands. There was no way such a happy-go-lucky girl had let a defeat kill her spirit.

“She’d have tried to jump in, if she could.” Marianne snorted.

“She’d definitely try to take them both on.” Liliana agreed with a smile and a shake of her head.

The next students were already walking out, the coliseum repaired in seconds. Kenneth Levy of class E, the last of that class, and Elizabeth Pearce of class A. Liliana recognized the girl from her Soul and Wind classes, and Levy she recognized from the first round.

He’d been the boy using Gas and Acid elements to devastate entire groups of students. A threat that Pearce didn’t seem to appreciate, seeing no more than the boy’s class when she turned her head away from him in a very clear slight.

“Ten gold on Levy.” Liliana said, handing the gold to Emyr before he could even ask for bets. Emyr raised his eyebrows at her insistence.

“Underdog?” Emyr asked and Liliana shook her head with a wicked grin.

“No, Pearce is the underdog in this fight. She just doesn’t know it yet.” Liliana said mysteriously as she kept her eyes glued to Levy.

If she was even more of a betting woman, she’d place money on him getting one of the class S spots too. His use of his affinities was creative, the kind you didn’t get by being stupid. He was clever and underestimated, and that would work in his favor. His form didn’t help with his intimidation factor.

If Liliana thought vampires existed in this world, she’d have said he was one. He was small compared to someone like Alistair or Koth’talan, probably no more than 5’7, and thin as a whip, almost unhealthily so, his skin such a pale shade of white it was almost transparent. His inky black hair hung limply over his face, but Liliana thought she saw rusty brown eyes hiding under his thick fringe.

Pearce, in comparison, looked every bit the perfect noble daughter. Rich brown hair contained in a perfectly coifed crown braid, skin a rich olive tone and light gray eyes clear and filled with derision as she looked at her opponent. Her posture was perfect, but communicating she was overconfident about the outcome to this fight.

“You’re that confident in him, Lili?” Marianne asked and Liliana nodded as the rules were read out.

“I saw him in the first round. He left enough of an impression I remembered him.” Liliana elaborated slightly.

Marianne hummed, showing more interest in the fight. It was a badly kept secret that Liliana didn’t bother much with remembering people, caring little for anyone who didn’t make an impression on her. She only remembered her classmates’ names because she saw them so much.

The fight was called to a start and Pearce kept her position, finally turning faintly glowing eyes on Levy.

Levy kept his gaze averted as a thick layer of mist poured off his body, quickly obscuring his form as it condensed, holding unnaturally still. Liliana was reminded of Lelantos when he crouched just before pouncing on prey, body held with a stillness that would make one believe he was a statue.

Pearce frowned and winds kicked up, trying to dispel the thick mist that clung to the sands. Yet no matter how the winds howled and raged, the mist stayed where it was, Levy’s control of it strong enough to resist Pearce’s spells. Pearce was growing frustrated as her eyes glowed brighter, a faint dark purple color taking over them as she opened her mouth and spoke something none of them could hear.

“What kind of affinity is that?” Liliana asked, frowning.

“Control.” Emyr said darkly.

Liliana shuddered. Control wasn’t a popular affinity, it had negative connotations many didn’t want anything to do with. You could use it, at higher ranks, to control a person if used in concert with a Psyche affinity.

Liliana silently thanked Healer Sybil that the reminder of such things could no longer drag her into flashbacks that would leave her a panicked mess.

Thankfully, at Pearce’s presumed level she could likely only use her Control affinity to turn other’s spells and skills against them. It worked best if you also had the same skill or spell, or at least the same affinity as the ability used. However, a combination of Pearce evidently not having the same affinity and Levy’s apparent high mastery of his affinity meant Pearce’s attempts to wrest control from the boy were ineffective.

Levy seemed to bore of playing with Pearce and his wall of mist began to creep across the sands, flowing out as it started changing colors, going from an innocent gray to a more foreboding toxic green. Winds whipped around Pearce in a veritable squall as she tried to push the encroaching mist back, falling back when nothing seemed to deter the mist, steadily inching towards her. She kept backing away, the mist slow enough she could keep ahead of it as she continued to speak, eyes now so filled with dark purple Liliana couldn’t see the whites of her eyes any longer.

Yet nothing could stop the inevitable rolling of the mist and eventually Pearce’s back hit the shield of the coliseum. By now, almost the entire coliseum floor was covered in mist and Pearce was starting to panic, head whipping around as she looked for an escape.

Her feet finally left the ground in a weak float as she tried to find relief in the high ground. The mist crashed into the edges of the shield, rising after Pearce like a relentless hunter as she tried to rise above it, once more finding herself trapped by the top of the shield.

The mist hit her feet first, and her shield started slowly tinting yellow, a steady color change as the mist rose higher, covering her legs and stomach as her shield turned orange. Her head was covered last, her eyes blown wide in fear before she vanished from view.

Seconds later, the round was called to an end, Levy declared the victor, and the mists vanished, gone as if they had never been there. Pearce’s form was huddled on the ground below and Levy stood in the same place he’d been at the start, expression unchanged.

“That was… terrifying.” Rathwater said weakly as Levy exited the sands without a backwards glance.

“To see something coming for you and know there’s no way to escape it? Yeah.” Liliana agreed, shivering slightly.

She had seen Levy’s mists move far faster than that in the first round. He’d gone slow on purpose, just to instill more fear, more hopelessness in Pearce before she inevitably fell. It was ruthless, and a touch cruel. In a closed battlefield like that, his mist was an almost unfair advantage. Even she might struggle against something like that. She had no idea if [Poison Resistance] worked against acids, but knowing her luck, it didn’t.

“That fight was decided as soon as it started.” Emyr said, voice low as he kept staring at the illusion. His curiosity had been piqued, no doubt.

“Told you I wasn’t betting on the underdog.” Liliana said softly, taking her winnings from a distracted Emyr.

The rest of the group kept quiet, faces drawn in curiosity or mild fear. Levy had certainly left an impression on them, and likely many in the audience. He most definitely wouldn’t be in class E come the new semester.

The next students walked out before her group had recovered from the last fight. Ebenezer Hicks from class B and Joane Stace of class C. The rules were read, and the fight called to a start.

Hicks immediately pulled out a large tower shield, made of a reflective material Liliana couldn’t identify. Stace in contrast summoned two fans made of metal, wind dancing around her like a playful pet. Hicks hunkered down behind his shield as Stace waved her fans in an elegant move, sand and wind kicking up and growing, whipping around the arena in a furious dervish.

Both of the combatants disappeared under the resulting sandstorm Stace had summoned. Liliana could only see flashes of movement between the vicious winds and rising sands. A fan vanishing back into the wall of sand and wind, a flash of a shield, a momentary glimpse of a face, or arm.

“Not a good tactic if you’re trying to show off.” Marianne grumbled, obviously irritated she couldn’t see the fight.

“So inconsiderate of her, to block our view like this,” Liliana teased her friend, tugging on a lock of snow white hair.

“Exactly!” Marianne exclaimed, throwing her hands out. Chuckles filled the air as the others focused on the more entertaining show of Marianne throwing a tantrum rather than an illusion filled with sand.

“Oh, something is happening.” Liliana pointed out as the sands flickered, as if they were glitching.

“Illusion?” Alistair asked, mildly surprised.

The sandstorm flickered again, more roughly, and they all got a small glance of Hicks still standing behind his shield, which was glowing brightly as Stace panted. A wave of sand and wind rushed at Hicks and the illusion went back in place, hiding them from view. Seconds later, the illusion failed entirely, and they got to see Stace flying back as she was hit with what looked like her own attack, but far stronger than it had been when she sent it. A veritable rapid of sand rushing at her and flinging her back, her shield turning red as she fell under the tide of sand.

“Oh. Reflection affinity.” Emyr snapped his fingers, as if he’d had an epiphany, and Liliana’s mouth dropped into an O.

The Reflection affinity could be used to store attacks from opponents and send them back with the stockpiled power. It was usually used by empowering a weapon or shield so you didn’t have to take the damage yourself. It was a good affinity for tanks or berserker classes to take. As for tanks, it could turn them into an offensive and defensive powerhouse. Berserkers, well, they were going to take damage anyway for their class, might as well turn it into more power.

Liliana turned her attention back to the illusion as Zir’elon stepped out. She was hoping this time the prince would finally fall from his high horse.