“Hey, Kid, You’re up; get in there, and don’t freak out due to the flashing lights, music, and roaring audience sounds. We have a live feed broadcasting from several hundred Arenas around the continent, so it’s pretty noisy in there.”

With near-perfect timing, The headset man stepped over and spoke to Cynrik. At first, he wanted to give some time for the two men to finish their argument, but with several people screaming GO in his ear, the headset man couldn’t allow them to continue any longer.

‘Walk and talk, Old Man; I’ve got a show to put on for my millions of adoring fans and admirers.’ Smacking his lips and spinning on his heel, Cynrik assumed his position back at the head of the formation.

Behind him, the members of MyrkLys straightened their backs and put on serious facial expressions, causing the headset man, Saylin, and even Geralt, to recoil from the strange and oppressive feeling they were emitting.

To put it into better terms, it was as if the members of MyrkLys had suddenly changed from typical students to wild, chained beasts. Even Kurza appeared to have been dragged into their strange mindset, which was weird because he had relatively little time to interact with the group.

With almost practiced precision, everyone stepped forward with their right foot and moved as a group, with Cynrik walking past the headset guy and giving him a short nod before separating the soundproof curtain with his left hand.

When he opened it, a wave of bright lights splashed his body as a thunderous roar greeted him.

“Well, this is quite a shock; if I didn’t trust my sources, then I would think what I am seeing is the biggest joke of all time! Contrary to popular convention, Vesemir School For Affinities has undergone a complete restructuring of their Tier-3 Team!” The voice of an overly excited man boomed through the Arena as an army of small round camera drones descended and flew around Cynrik and MyrkLys while they walked out of the tunnel and into the vast open Arena.

“For the first time in history, all but one member of the seven-man Tier-3 team is filled with FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS! THAT’S RIGHT, FOLKS, FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS! THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED!”

Under his hood, Cynrik snorted upon hearing the hyperactive man’s words, but soon he was assaulted by a heavy amount of Killing Intent, 8gs to be exact.

However, even with that much force on his body, he didn’t flinch, and only Kurza seemed to strain for a second before Garrison extended out his Aura to protect the young man.

CRASH

On a large screen floating above the center of the Arena, Cynrik spotted one of the commentators being flung through the air. Still, he paid it no mind as his eyes locked onto a large windowed room high above where hundreds of heated glares and even the Killing Intent originated.

“You idiot, don’t block my view. However, what that dolt has said is true. The previous Tier-3 team has seemingly vacated their position, leaving only the former Captain as a backup member of the squad. I am presently getting word that Six of the team members are from a newly rising Faction named Mer…Meir…MyrkLys?” The second commentator, a young woman’s voice grumbled. Her mispronunciation of his Factions name caused Cynrik’s lips to twitch momentarily until he finally located the source of the intrusive Killing Intent. And to no one’s surprise, it was coming from Lithlen and Viktor.

“Although the amount of information we have gathered isn’t large, what we know is the names of each of the competitors, and it appears that the members of MyrkLys have passed several physical exams indicating they can fight above their Level. Which will be a key factor moving forward since the six of them are Newly Advanced Tier-3 beings!” The male commentator excitedly chirped, but his words only seemed to stoke the fire that was the Killing Intent bearing down on MyrkLys.

Tilting his head slightly downward, Cynrik spoke in a straightforward yet quiet tone.

“Four o’clock, in the far right corner of the window on the fourth floor. Full Assault, hold nothing back.” He said while tilting his head back up and snarling under his hood.

A stunning event followed his actions and words. Suddenly several of the windows on the right side of the Arena exploded outward as every member of MyrkLys unleashed the full extent of their Killing Intent, targeting Lithlen Jetlensr and Viktor Opurn, resulting in 45g of pressure assaulting the two.

However, the windows breaking wasn’t actually due to the heavy gravitational pressure; instead, it was from the outward expansion of Viktor and Lithlen’s Aura, which flared out when the overbearing force slammed into their bodies.

When the two forces collided, the Aura won the battle of wills, but it was insanely close, so much so that Lithlen and Viktor were forced to go all out not to be crushed to a bloody pulp, which in turn resulted in them affecting their surroundings.

Several surrounding people in the VIP room had even been thrown away from the sheer power they were generating. Many of them were even Tier-5 beings. It was just that they had been caught off guard and thus paid in the form of embarrassment.

But not as much as Lithlen and Viktor were. The two of them cut a sorry image mixed with fury, embarrassment, and slight traces of fear.

‘TIER-3’s WHAT THE FUCK! HOW CAN MERE TIER-3 CHILDREN DRAW OUT SUCH INTENSE KILLING INTENT?’ Viktor screamed internally.

Luckily for them, due to the attention being on MyrkLys, the loud noise, and the strobing light show, only those in attendance in the VIP room and every being over Tier-4 witnessed what had occurred.

After resuming their march, the group that had conducted the attack met up with the VSFA Tier-1 and Tier-2 teams, acting as if nothing had happened.

It was only a brief moment where the Members of MyrkLys, Garrison, Rimsfel, Saylin, and Geralt turned to look up at the VIP room, so even the commentators only thought of it as a sign of respect. No one watching the Opening Ceremonies from home or another Arena was the wiser either.

‘You…what in the actual hell was that?’ Saylin gasped, completely caught off guard at the massive wave of Killing Intent he had witnessed.

‘CAN YOU FREAKING STOP DOING SHIT CYNRIK AND ACT NORMAL FOR ONCE?’ Geralt pleaded through the Psychic link.

‘I am done hiding from those two **ers. Their time has come, and if that means scaring the ** out of them with 45g of Killing Intent, which should be MORE than enough to flatten them into pancakes, then so be it.’ Cynrik retorted while making eye contact with the piece of ** Vice Headmaster, who looked horrified and confused at what MyrkLys had just done, that and the fact that the group had somehow made it to the Arena in one piece.

Ignoring the annoyingly energetic voice of the male commentator, who Cynrik recognized as Cesar Romano, Cynrik halted his group five meters away from the Tier-2 team after observing how the other Academy teams were spaced out.

‘And if that trashy bastard of a Vice Headmaster so much as farts in my presence, he is next, important family or not. He is to blame for a significant amount of what has transpired in VSFA. Hell, just look at how **ing nervous he is now that we have shown up. I don’t know how much more proof you need, Geralt.’ While he spoke, Cynrik’s left hand unconsciously twitched multiple times.

The movement caused Brance, who was observing his brother from the back of the line, to flinch since he recognized it as one of Cynrik’s ticks for when he was simulating an action.

Unknown to Cynrik or even Saylin and Geralt, Gabby had long since connected Brance to the makeshift Psychic link, and he had been eavesdropping this entire time.

Cyn, calm down, don’t you move a **ing inch. And for the love of god, stop freaking killing the Vice Headmaster over and over in your mind! Brance tried his best to keep a calm tone while he spoke but found it increasingly difficult to do so the more Cynrik twitched.

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