Chapter 3: The Art of Napping in a War Zone
The Next Morning.
The Grand Spirit Arena.
The Grand Spirit Arena of Starfall Academy was a coliseum built of white marble, large enough to seat fifty thousand spectators. Today, every seat was filled. Nobles, commoners, merchants, and even scouts from the Imperial Army were present to witness the "Pre-Board Assessment."
This was the day futures were decided.
"Match 14: Varek of House Flame-Heart versus Valdorian (No Clan)!"
The announcer's voice boomed across the stadium, amplified by wind magic.
A roar of excitement went up from the noble section. They were eager to see Varek, a rising star, crush the academy's most famous "leech."
In the waiting area, Liya was pacing back and forth, her ice aura making the bench freeze over.
"His wrist is healed," Liya hissed, looking at the distant figure of Varek stretching in the ring. "I saw him drink a Grade-3 Bone Mending Potion this morning. And... he's wearing the Crimson Salamander Armor. That's a Spirit Artifact! It deflects physical attacks! It's cheating!"
Valdorian was sitting on the bench, eyes closed, head nodding rhythmically.
"Val! Are you listening?" Liya grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
Valdorian's eyes snapped open. "Hm? Oh. Armor. Right. Shiny." He yawned, stretching his neck. "Don't worry, Liya. Armor is just extra weight if you don't know how to move."
"Valdorian, please," Liya's voice trembled. She leaned in close, whispering so no one else could hear. "If it gets dangerous, surrender immediately. There is no shame in living."
Valdorian looked at her. He saw the genuine fear in her eyes. It warmed his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced in his past life as a lonely God.
He reached out and flicked her forehead gently.
"Ouch," Liya blinked, holding her forehead.
"Watch closely," Valdorian said, standing up. The lazy slump in his shoulders vanished for a split second, replaced by a strange, towering presence. "I'll show you a magic trick."
He walked out into the sunlight.
The Arena Ring.
Varek stood in the center, bathed in cheers. He wore gleaming red leather armor that pulsed with heat. His eyes were bloodshot with rage. The humiliation in the cafeteria had kept him awake all night.
'I won't just beat him,' Varek thought, gripping his sword—a flaming falchion. 'I'll burn his face off so the Ice Bitch never looks at him again.'
Valdorian stepped onto the platform. He wore the standard academy uniform, loose and unarmored. He carried no weapon. His hands were in his pockets.
"Where is your weapon?" the Referee, a stern Elder, asked.
"Forgot it," Valdorian lied. In reality, Nihility was too heavy to carry, and normal swords felt like toothpicks to him. "I'll use my hands."
Laughter erupted from the stands.
"He's suicidal!"
"Fists against a Spirit Sword? Is he insane?"
Varek grinned, pointing his flaming sword at Valdorian. "Arrogance. Today, you pay for your luck, trash. I'm going to cut off the hand you used to touch me."
Valdorian looked at the sun, squinting. "Can we start? It's almost lunch time."
Varek's face turned purple. "DIE!"
"BEGIN!"
Varek exploded into motion. [Skill: Blazing Charge].
He didn't hold back. He covered the twenty meters between them in a heartbeat, leaving a trail of scorched stone. He swung his falchion horizontally, aiming to decapitate Valdorian. The blade roared with fire, hot enough to melt steel.
The crowd screamed. Liya covered her mouth.
Valdorian didn't move.
He stood there, hands still in his pockets, watching the blade approach.
'Trajectory: Horizontal slash. Speed: Sub-sonic. Flaws: Thirty-seven.'
The analysis flashed in his mind instantly. It wasn't conscious thought; it was the Sovereign's Instinct leaking through the seal.
Just as the blade touched the loose fabric of his shirt...
Valdorian dropped.
He didn't crouch; he simply relaxed every muscle in his body simultaneously, dropping to the ground as if his strings had been cut. The flaming sword passed harmlessly over his head, singing a few hairs.
"What?!" Varek stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward.
From his position on the ground, Valdorian didn't scramble away. He pivoted on one hand like a breakdancer and kicked upward.
He didn't kick Varek. He kicked the flat of Varek's blade.
CLANG.
The kick had no mana, but it hit the "vibration point" of the sword perfectly. The impact sent a shockwave up the weapon.
Varek shouted, his grip loosening as his hand went numb. The sword flew out of his hand, spinning into the air and stabbing into the ground ten meters away.
The stadium went silent.
Valdorian stood up, dusting off his pants. "You dropped something."
Varek stared at his empty hand, then at Valdorian. His face twisted from shock to pure, unadulterated madness. "You... YOU RAT!"
Varek didn't go for his sword. He clapped his hands together. Mana surged violently.
"I don't need a sword to kill a cripple! Secret Art: Serpent of the Fire God!"
The crowd gasped. This was a High-Tier spell! It consumed massive mana but summoned a living construct of fire.
A ten-foot cobra made of roaring flames erupted from Varek's hands. The heat was so intense the front row of spectators had to shield their eyes.
"Burn to ash!" Varek screamed.
The Fire Serpent lunged, its maw wide enough to swallow Valdorian whole.
There was no way to dodge. The attack covered the entire platform.
Liya stood up, ice mana flaring in her hands to intervene, rules be damned.
But Valdorian sighed.
'Fire is just excited energy,' the voice in his head whispered. 'To stop it, you don't fight it. You tell it to calm down.'
[Seal Leak: 0.05%]
[Ability: Law of Nullification (Trace Amount)]
Valdorian took his right hand out of his pocket. He walked toward the massive fire snake.
"He's crazy!" someone screamed.
Valdorian raised his hand and simply... slapped the air.
It looked like he was swatting a fly.
But as his hand moved, his fingers traced a strange, ancient rune in the air. It happened so fast no mortal eye could track it.
SLAP.
His hand made contact with the nose of the Fire Serpent.
POOF.
There was no explosion. There was no struggle. The massive ten-foot serpent simply... vanished. It didn't dissipate; it was erased. One second it was a roaring inferno, the next second it was a puff of harmless grey smoke.
Varek stood there, his hands still extended, looking like a statue. "My... my mana?"
Valdorian stepped through the smoke. He was standing right in front of Varek now.
"You're too loud," Valdorian said softly.
He raised his hand again.
SLAP.
This time, it wasn't a technique. It was just a good, old-fashioned disrespect.
Valdorian backhanded Varek across the face.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Varek—wearing the Grade-3 Spirit Armor—flew. He spun in the air like a ragdoll, blood and teeth spraying in an arc, and crashed outside the ring, embedding himself into the stone wall of the arena.
He didn't move.
Valdorian stood in the center of the ring, shaking his hand. "Ow. His face is harder than I thought."
Silence.
Absolute, terrified silence.
The Referee dropped his clipboard. The Nobles dropped their jaws. Even Liya was frozen, her eyes wide.
A mana-less cripple just slapped a fire-user through a stone wall.
Valdorian looked up at the Referee. "Is it lunch time yet?"
[System Notification (Internal):]
[Host has exerted dominance.]
[Reward: Seal loosened by 0.1%.]
[Memory Fragment Unlocked: "The Taste of Divine Wine."]
Valdorian blinked. For a second, he tasted something incredibly sweet and aged on his tongue, a phantom flavor from a life he didn't remember.
He licked his lips. "Man, now I'm really hungry."
The VIP Box.
High above the arena, hidden behind magical glass, the Academy Principal and several Elders were watching.
"Did you see that?" Principal Thorne asked, his voice grave. He was a Sage-level mage, one of the strongest in the Empire.
"He... he slapped the fire away," an Elder stammered. "Did he use a dispel artifact?"
"No," Thorne narrowed his eyes. "I felt no artifact. I felt no mana."
He leaned forward, staring at the bored-looking boy in the arena.
"When he touched the fire... for a microsecond... the fire ceased to exist. It wasn't extinguished. It was deleted."
Thorne's hands gripped the railing.
"That boy... Valdorian. Who are his parents? Pull his file. immediately."
Back in the Arena.
As the medics peeled Varek off the wall, Valdorian walked down the steps.
Liya was waiting for him. She didn't say a word. She walked up to him, grabbed his face with both hands, and inspected him for burns.
"I'm fine, Liya," Valdorian mumbled, his cheeks squished.
"You..." Liya took a deep breath. She looked at the crater in the wall, then back at him. "You are full of secrets, Valdorian Null."
"Everyone has secrets," Valdorian shrugged, gently removing her hands. "Now, about that lunch? I believe Varek promised to pay if he lost. Well, he didn't say it, but I'm taking his wallet anyway."
As they walked away, the crowd parted for them. But this time, they didn't look at Valdorian with mockery.
They looked at him with fear.
And in the shadows of the exit tunnel, a figure watched them leave. It was a man in a dark cloak, holding a crystal ball that was glowing red.
"Target confirmed," the figure whispered into the crystal. "The Anomaly. His physical strength defies logic. The Elven Council will want to know about this."
The figure drew a dagger.
"Initiate Phase Two: Assassination in the Forest Exam."
Next Time: The Academy moves to the Beast Forest for the second exam. The assassins strike! And Valdorian gets angry.