The wind howled across the open arena.
The sun had begun to tilt westward, casting long shadows on the field. Lamia stood at the edge of the battleground, her silver hair tied tightly behind her head, fluttering like a ribbon in the wind. Her expression was calm but focused, her eyes fixed on the opposite gate.
Across the field, her opponent arrived.
Kyra.
Known as the Blade Cyclone.
She wore a storm-gray battle suit, reinforced with steel bands, and on her back—twelve floating daggers shimmered, orbiting her like a metallic halo. Her smile was sharp, confident.
The announcer's voice rang out.
"Next Match: Lamia vs. Kyra!"
Lamia adjusted the bracers on her wrist. Her quirk wasn't flashy. It didn't explode, didn't roar.
But it moved.
Her hair shifted like it was alive, strands rising slightly in anticipation.
"Begin!"
Kyra wasted no time. With a sharp flick of her fingers, three of her daggers shot forward in a spiral, aiming straight for Lamia's chest.
Lamia took one step back.
And her hair moved.
Dozens of strands twisted, coiled, and shot forward like spears. They wrapped around the daggers mid-air and redirected them harmlessly to the ground.
Kyra's eyes narrowed.
"Interesting. Let's see how long you last."
She launched all twelve blades.
They moved like a storm, slicing through the air, spinning around Lamia from all directions.
But Lamia didn't panic.
She stepped to the side, spun low, and her hair extended like a living shield—blocking, parrying, twisting. Her movements were graceful, almost like a dancer.
One blade nearly grazed her cheek—but a tendril of hair caught it inches from impact.
Then she struck.
Lamia's hair coiled into a thick braid and lashed out like a whip, slamming into Kyra's shoulder.
Kyra stumbled.
"You're not just defense, huh..."
She recalled her daggers with a snap. They hovered, gleaming.
"Let's finish this. Blade Spiral!"
The blades spun faster than before, becoming a silver cyclone. She dashed forward with them, aiming for Lamia's blind spot.
But Lamia had been watching.
The instant Kyra moved, Lamia's hair split into dozens of razor-sharp strands. They darted forward, intercepting the cyclone.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sparks flew.
The arena filled with the sounds of steel against steel.
In the middle of it, Lamia stood like a fortress.
Then—she took a breath.
"Bind."
Her hair surged.
Strands wrapped around Kyra's wrists, ankles, waist—tightening, locking her mid-step. The daggers dropped, clattering on the ground.
Kyra gasped.
"I... can't move?"
Lamia walked forward slowly.
"You were strong. But your power needs space to dance. I don't give that."
Kyra tried to struggle, but the strands only tightened.
"Winner: Lamia!"
The crowd exploded into cheers. They hadn't expected this quiet girl to defeat the Blade Cyclone so effortlessly.
From the observation deck, Sohan crossed his arms.
"She fights like water in a jar. Still. Controlled. But dangerous when shaken."
Rakib laughed.
"I wouldn't want to spar her. That hair's scarier than most weapons."
Lamia stepped off the field. Her expression hadn't changed, but a faint glimmer in her eyes hinted at pride.
Another victory.
Another step closer to becoming a Hero.