Chapter 46: Avenging the Team
The tournament board updated with a soft chime.
Sixteen names remained. The holographic bracket had thinned out dramatically, leaving only the fighters who’d proven they belonged. The crowd had swelled as word spread through the academy. Upperclassmen who’d been skipping the early rounds were now packed into the stands. Noble families in the VIP boxes leaned forward with genuine interest.
The energy in the arena was hungrier now.
Renna’s name appeared on the board for the next match.
"Renna Ashwell versus Malakor Vex. Block A, Round Four."
Renna jumped up from the player box, bow in hand.
"Finally! I’ve been waiting forever! Okay, Maeve, take notes. I’m about to demonstrate something beautiful."
Maeve smiled and flipped to a fresh page. "Good luck."
Renna bounded down the stairs with her usual chaotic energy.
Holden watched from the box as she took her position on the stage. Across from her, her opponent was already there.
Malakor Vex had a thin but tough build. His eyes were small and mean. He wore a tailored black jacket with the Valcrest faction emblem stitched into the collar. A bandolier crossed his chest, loaded with thin throwing daggers that had jagged, dangerous-looking edges.
Draven’s faction. Of course.
"This should be fine," Emric muttered from beside Holden. "Renna’s accuracy is far better than any throwing specialist at this rank. Since her bow has a much longer range than his daggers, she should be able to decide exactly how the fight happens."
Holden nodded but didn’t relax.
Something about Malakor’s calm bothered him. He stood there spinning a dagger between his fingers with an expression that said he already knew something nobody else did.
The referee’s hand dropped.
"Begin!"
Renna drew and fired in one motion. The arrow streaked toward Malakor’s shoulder.
Malakor sidestepped too easily. He’d known exactly where it was going before she released it.
He threw two daggers in return. Renna dodged both and fired again. Malakor weaved through the arrows with fluid, practiced movements. He wasn’t just fast. He was reading her.
"Come on, Renna," Holden muttered.
She picked up the pace. Three arrows. Four. Five. Each one aimed at a different vital point. Malakor slipped through them all, closing the distance with every exchange.
Then he did something Holden didn’t like.
His left hand brushed against his belt. Fast. Almost invisible.
A tiny glass charm cracked between his fingers.
Flash.
A blinding white light exploded from Malakor’s palm. it was focused and aimed directly at Renna. It was a military-grade stun charm designed to blind targets at close range.
Renna cried out and staggered backward, both hands over her eyes.
Malakor closed the remaining distance in two steps and shoved her hard in the chest.
She tumbled off the edge of the stage and hit the arena floor below.
"Winner: Malakor Vex."
The crowd went wild. Many were furious, while others were shocked. Flash charms were explicitly banned in tournament combat. Everyone knew it. The referees knew it.
But Malakor was already walking off the stage, and the broken charm had shattered into too many pieces to prove anything.
"That little snake!" Renna’s voice echoed up from below, furious and trembling.
Holden was already on his feet.
In the waiting area, Renna sat on a bench with a damp towel pressed against her eyes. Lyra knelt in front of her, gently pulling her eyelids up to check for damage.
"The flash was intense but brief," Lyra said, her voice calm. "Your pupils are reactive, so there’s no permanent damage. You’ll have blurred vision for maybe an hour."
"It burns," Renna said. She wasn’t crying, but her voice was tight.
Maeve appeared beside her with a fresh, cool towel. She pressed it gently into Renna’s free hand.
"Here. This one’s colder. It’ll help with the swelling."
Renna took it. "Thanks, Maeve."
"You fought really well up until that point. Your grouping was perfect. He only closed the gap because he was using a counter-style specifically designed for archers."
Renna managed a weak laugh. "You sound like Emric."
"I’ll take that as a compliment."
Holden crouched down beside the bench. Renna had one eye cracked open now, red and watery, trying to focus on him.
"Hey," he said. "You fought like a champion."
"I lost."
"You got cheated. Different thing."
"It doesn’t feel different."
"I know. But I’m going to fix it."
Renna blinked at him. "What do you mean?"
Holden stood up. His face looked different now. He still seemed friendly on the outside, but underneath that, he felt dangerous and very angry.
"I mean I’m going to teach that kid a lesson about manners."
"Holden, your next match is against him, isn’t it?"
" Funny how that works."
Bzzt.
"Block A, Round Five. Lyra Ashford versus Kira Solen. Competitors to the stage."
Lyra rose smoothly. "Holden. Don’t do anything reckless."
"Who, me?"
She gave him a look that said she wasn’t fooled for a second, then walked out.
Lyra won her match in under a minute. A single spear thrust that disarmed her opponent and sent her sliding out of the ring.
Emric won his match three minutes later with a perfectly executed shield charge that folded his opponent in half.
The bracket updated again. Eight fighters left.
Holden’s next matchup flashed on the screen.
Holden Voss versus Malakor Vex.
Malakor was already walking toward the stage, spinning a dagger between his fingers. He had a new bandolier loaded with fresh blades. His sneer was wider than before.
Holden stood up from the bench.
"Be right back."
He walked onto the stage to a wall of noise. The crowd was still buzzing about Renna’s match. Word had spread about the flash charm. People were angry.
Malakor met him at center stage.
"So you’re the one who thinks he can protect the little archer," Malakor said. "Let’s see you dodge what you can’t see, Voss."
"If you need flashbangs to beat an archer," Holden said, "your combat instructor must be very embarrassed."
Malakor’s sneer faltered for just a second.
The referee raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Malakor threw immediately. Three daggers, spread in a fan pattern.
Holden didn’t dodge.
He raised his left hand and caught the first dagger on his palm. The barbed edge scraped against his Iron-Body skin and left a white line that faded in seconds.
Clack.
He caught the second on his forearm.
Clack.
He snatched the third one out of the air with two fingers.
"Throw more," he said.
Malakor’s eyes narrowed. He threw five more, each coming from a different angle. He was aiming for every opening in Holden’s defense, trying to find a way through.
Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.
Holden caught or deflected every single one. He moved with perfect aim, hitting the daggers away like they were weightless. Each impact sent a sharp jolt through his arms, and each jolt made his meridians another step toward solid.
[Foundation stabilization: 70%... 74%...]
"You’re predictable," Holden said. "Right hand leads on the first throw. Left hand on the second. You always aim for the same three gaps. Did you learn your throwing pattern from a children’s book?"
Malakor looked very angry and frustrated. He threw faster. He started throwing his knives even faster. In a panic, he threw ten daggers all at once to try and end the fight.
Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.
He blocked every single one. Each hit deflecting his energy inward.
[Foundation stabilization: 80%... 83%...]
"Stop!" Malakor screamed.
Holden didn’t stop. He closed the distance in two steps. Malakor panicked and drew his last two daggers, swinging wildly.
Holden caught both blades, one in each hand, and squeezed.
Crunch.
The dagger handles splintered. The metal blades cracked and fell apart like cheap toys.
Malakor stared at the broken pieces in Holden’s hands. His face had gone from red to white.
"Those were custom-forged," he whispered.
"They were garbage."
Holden kicked Malakor hard in the chest.
Wham.
Malakor flew backward off the stage and landed in a crumpled heap on the arena floor. He barely moved.
"Winner: Holden Voss."
The crowd exploded. Louder than any match before.
[Ding!]
[Victory registered.]
[+150 KP]
[Balance: 3,490 KP]
[Rank 1 (9-Star) - Foundation: 85% Stabilized]
Holden walked back to the player box. Renna was on her feet, towel still pressed to one eye, grinning so wide it looked painful.
"That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen," she said.
"Had to send a message."
"You sent a whole book."