Ethan's voice was calm, unwavering.
"The Crimson Edge Technique."
The moment he spoke, several students exchanged glances.
Crimson Edge was not any beginner's technique. It was a legacy sword style, a technique that required precision, adaptability, and immense physical control. And yet, Ethan spoke its name as though it was just another skill in his arsenal.
Seraphine nodded and turned toward the attendants.
However, unlike before, a different attendant stepped forward.
The heavy, rune-etched metal gates of the arena rumbled open, their reinforced mechanisms groaning under the strain.
A deep, guttural snarl echoed from the darkness beyond.
Then, with slow, deliberate steps, the beast emerged.
It was unlike anything the students had faced.
A Liger—a monstrous hybrid of a lion and a tiger—towered over the battlefield, its massive, muscular body covered in golden-orange fur with striped patterns running across its sides. Its thick mane bristled with hostility, its golden-yellow eyes glowing with wild hunger.
But something was off.
The pressure in the air was heavier.
The liger's muscles twitched unnaturally, its limbs larger and more defined than a normal beast's. Its eyes burned with an unnatural gleam, and its aura flickered like a distorted mirage.
Then, realization struck the students.
"It's partially awakened," one of them gasped.
A murmur of shock and concern spread through the class.
Unlike the unawakened beasts fought before, this Liger had undergone a halfway Awakening, making it several times stronger, faster, and more dangerous than the other beasts.
The starvation it had been subjected to only heightened its ferocity, making it a creature driven by raw, uncontrollable hunger.
--
Despite the savage hunger in its gaze, the Liger did not attack the attendant.
The students immediately noticed this discrepancy.
It wasn't that the beast was being controlled—rather, its instincts told it that the man standing beside it was untouchable.
The attendant, a man clad in a long, rune-stitched robe, radiated an aura that was not oppressive, but untouchable—like a mountain standing amidst a raging storm.
The Liger knew.
Even in its half-awakened state, it understood that attacking this man would be meaningless.
Instead, its attention turned toward Ethan. Having be starved so much it cared little about the man since it's 'food' Ethan was about to enter the arena
---
The moment Ethan entered the arena, the Liger's entire demeanor changed.
Its ears flattened, fangs bared, and its tail flicked aggressively.
But what struck Ethan the most was its gaze.
The Liger was looking at him like prey.
A cold, primal bloodlust seeped into the air as the beast's eyes locked onto him, its pupils dilating with the promise of a kill.
This wasn't mindless aggression.
The Liger recognized Ethan as a threat, and it was prepared to eliminate him.
For some reason, not that Etham was inside the arena, The Liger felt a suppressed domineering aura from Ethan, Ethan himself was not aware of that.
While that aura wasn't enough to make it completely back of like the attendant that stood behind the half awakened beast, it now knew that Ethan wouldn't be an easy prey, but blinded by hunger it was prepared to attack nonetheless...
The arena fell into silence.
The massive Liger let out a deep, guttural growl, its sharp fangs bared as strands of thick saliva dripped from its maw. Its powerful muscles tensed like coiled springs before it lunged at Ethan with ferocious speed, claws extended and eyes burning with primal hunger.
The beast moved like a lightning-fast blur, its massive body covering the distance between them in an instant.
Ethan reacted immediately, shifting into the first form of the Crimson Edge Technique—Ember Slice.
His blade moved with him, cutting through the air in a fluid arc as he sidestepped at the last possible moment.
The Liger missed its kill strike by mere inches, its claws slicing through where Ethan had been a fraction of a second before.
But Ethan had already pivoted, redirecting the momentum of his dodge into a lightning-fast counterattack.
His sword lashed out, aiming for the beast's exposed side.
CLANG!
The blade connected—but the Liger's half-awakened hide was far tougher than expected.
Though the impact left a shallow cut, it wasn't nearly enough to slow the beast down.
The Liger roared, twisting its body with unnatural flexibility, swiping with its massive claws.
Ethan's reflexes kicked in instantly, shifting into the second form—Burning Spiral.
He spun on his heel, his sword twisting with him in a defensive motion, deflecting the strike just enough for him to evade completely.
---
The class was stunned.
They had expected Ethan to hold his own, but what they were witnessing was something else entirely.
"He's not just dodging—he's flowing through the fight!"
'That movement… it's almost instinctive.'
Even Instructor Seraphine narrowed her eyes in fascination.
---
Ethan fighting against the Liger scoffed inwardly, compared to the training given to him by his brother, this Half-Awakened Liger beast is nothing!
Meanwhile, the Liger growled in frustration.
It was not used to its prey surviving this long.
Ethan saw the flicker of irritation in its eyes and acted immediately.
He shifted into the third form—Inferno Sweep.
His blade slashed low, cutting across the beast's forelimb.
The Liger howled as its balance momentarily faltered.
That was his opening.
Ethan surged forward, activating the final form—Crimson Lunge.
With an explosive burst of speed, he closed the gap between them, his blade aimed directly at the Liger's exposed neck.
The moment his sword connected—
BOOM!
A massive shockwave erupted as the Liger's body crashed into the ground, dust and debris kicking up into the air.
When the dust settled, Ethan stood tall—his sword pressed firmly against the beast's throat.
The Liger stopped struggling.
It recognized defeat.
---
Silence. Then—Recognition.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then, Instructor Seraphine's voice broke the silence.
"As expected of the Son of Overlord Gareth Drakethorne."
The class exhaled, murmurs spreading once more.
Ethan exhaled, standing upright. His storm-gray eyes flickered with satisfaction.
He hadn't just won—he had dominated.
And for the first time, his classmates truly understood:
Ethan Drakethorne was not just riding on his father's name.
He was a force of his own.