Pangea Academy's Number Two! (BOOK 2)

Battles for Rank: Begin!

Inside the grandeur of the colosseum, the air thrummed with anticipation, a palpable energy that electrified every corner of the colossal structure. The arena, bathed in the warm glow of sunlight streaming through the open arches, was a spectacle of architectural marvel, its tiers of stone seats rising like a mighty fortress, embracing the stage below.

As the spectators filled the stands, a diverse tapestry of humanity unfolded. They came from all walks of life, their voices blending into a cacophony of excitement, echoing off the ancient walls. Scouts, businessmen, students, and teachers alike gathered, their faces illuminated with fervor, eager for the spectacle that awaited them.

Down on the sandy floor of the arena, the two ability users stood poised, their muscles rippling beneath sweaty uniforms provided by their respective schools, powers ready. The clash of the two, the rhythmic stomping of feet, and the primal roars of combatants filled the air, heightening the atmosphere of anticipation.

As the spectacle commenced, the crowd erupted into cheers, their voices rising in unison like a mighty wave crashing against the shore. Every strike, every parry, and every decisive blow elicited gasps and shouts from the audience, their emotions entwined with the ebb and flow of the battle unfolding before them.

The tension mounted with each passing moment, reaching a fever pitch as the combatants neared their climax. And then, with a final, thunderous clash, the victor emerged, triumphant amidst the roar of the crowd. Their jubilant cries reverberated throughout the colosseum.

The country stood there waving happily over his fallen opponent, he's successfully moved up a rank.

America remembered briefly bumping into him while passing in the hallway.

He was from Greek Warrior Academy

. . .

"Oh, I'm sorry!" America apologized, the man was a little shorter than him, but not by much. Not to mention, he was vastly bulkier than the American, and America wasn't tiny by any means.

"It's no problem!" The other man chuckled before a stark realization hit him, "I think I've seen you before..."

"Oh?" The taller man was put on edge by the comment, his hand tensing slightly, "I am Pangea Academy's number one."

"Right, you're America then?" He paused, extending his hand for America to take, "I'm Greece."

America calmed down and happily obliged with the man's handshake, "Like, Ancient Greece?"

"Yeah, he's my grandpa." Greece shrugged, though one could tell he was bragging, "He actually developed the school's program."

"Ah..."

Greece's face altered, he looked stern all of the sudden, "Look, now that you're aware of me, I noticed that you hang around Moscow a lot..."

"Huh? He's my number two." The tense feeling returned, abruptly.

"Which is, like, crazy to even think of cause that man would rather die then be second to anybody." Greece complained, "I just want to warn you, I know he's been here for a year now and he seems to have adapted well enough. You can't ever be too sure with Moscow." 

With the ominous warning, Greece departed.

. . .