In the unforgiving world of Argent Academy, students are ranked by their prowess, tested through perilous and often deadly exams. Each class, from the lowly Class 14-E to the elite Class 1-A, competes ruthlessly to survive. But above them all, whisp...
The morning of the interclass event arrived with an unnatural stillness, the air heavy with anticipation. The students of Class 10-E gathered in their small training yard, preparing for the coming confrontation. Their faces were a mix of fear and determination. For many, this would be the first time they faced such a high-stakes challenge.
Ichiro stood at the center, his towering frame a source of reassurance to the others, even though his mind was racing. He had sparred countless times, but this wasn’t just a fight—it was a war. Toru Saito and his faction were known for their ruthlessness, and Ichiro knew that they’d do anything to crush 10-E, both physically and mentally.
Maiya, standing off to the side, glanced at Ichiro, sensing the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. She stepped closer, her voice low but steady.
"We’ll get through this," she said, her eyes locking with his. "Rai might not be with us, but we’re not helpless. "
Ichiro grunted, trying to muster a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "I hope you’re right."
As they prepared, the sky above Argent Academy darkened. Thick, swirling clouds gathered overhead, casting long shadows across the ground. It felt like the academy itself was aware of the impending conflict, as if it too was bracing for the storm.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air, and a group of students from Class 8-C arrived at the training grounds; The sharp whistle pierced the tense atmosphere, and Class 8-C made their entrance. At the forefront stood Toru Saito, his cocky smirk radiating confidence. His followers flanked him, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Unlike Class 10-E, who stood unsure and uneasy, 8-C's students exuded arrogance. This was routine for them—another chance to show dominance.
Toru approached Ichiro, his eyes scanning the 10-E group with a disdainful sneer. "So, this is what they send us? A bunch of bottom-dwellers." He scoffed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "This won’t even be a challenge."
Ichiro tensed but held his ground. His muscles were taut, ready for the impending confrontation, but there was no denying the disparity between the two classes. Class 8-C wasn’t just higher-ranked—they were ruthless.
Maiya stepped forward, her calm presence a stark contrast to Toru’s bravado. " Don’t underestimate us, Toru."
Toru chuckled, flicking his gaze from Maiya to Ichiro. "Underestimate you? I already know how this ends. But don’t worry," he said, leaning in closer, his voice a low hiss. "I’ll make sure you don’t suffer too long."
A low murmur spread through the students gathered around the training yard. Everyone knew this wouldn’t just be a test of skill—it would be a spectacle, with Class 10-E as the sacrificial lamb.
"Enough," Ichiro growled, stepping between Toru and Maiya, his towering form casting a shadow over the arrogant leader. "Let's settle this on the field."
Toru flashed a wicked grin. "Gladly."
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