Eva strode into the dimmed circle of the casting line, her dark blue hair plastered to her cheek, pink streaks glowing faintly. Her knit top clung to her curves, soaked through with sweat, outlining her full chest and strong frame.
Her skirt hugged her thighs, blue lace peeking as she planted her feet against the wind.
She exhaled, closing her green eyes for a heartbeat, centering herself.
Her first shot flew wide, caught by the storm.
1
.
The crowd stirred, a murmur of disappointment rising.
Her cheeks burned, hotter than shame, but her jaw tightened, resolve flaring behind her eyes.
She adjusted her stance, her fingers steadying.
Second shotâ
Crack
âit grazed the fourth ring.
4
.
Thirdâ
Thud
âit struck cleaner, landing in the third.
6
.
Her lips pressed tight, her gaze fiery as she stepped back, signaling to Olivia with a nod that said.
Weâre not done.
Olivia moved forward, her charcoal-gray pants clinging to her hips, damp with sweat, her wavy bob swaying in the gusts.
Her hazel eyes locked on the target, sharp and unyielding. Her first shot veered slightly, hitting the fifth ring.
3
.
The second found the fourthâ
5
.
The third struck true, third ringâ
6
.
She stood tall, her stance radiating defiance, her eyes saying.
Weâre not broken yet.
She exchanged a glance with Eva, their silent pact unbroken.
Viora followed, her green ponytail whipping, her legs firm despite the shaking wind.
Her skirt rode high, red lace flashing as she braced herself. Her shots were steady, if not spectacular:
3, 4, 5
.
She stepped back, her smirk sharp, her green eyes daring Class C to laugh now.
Myra matched her, her brunette curls bouncing, black lace peeking as her skirt clung to her glistening thighs.
Her beads flew trueâ
2, 4, 6
âeach hit a quiet victory.
She twirled back to the group, her grin playful but fierce.
Viora and Myra shared a glance, a silent agreement forged in the storm, their stand a shared triumph that steadied Class Dâs wavering heart.
Nellieâs turn came, her thick thighs clenching under her skirt, white lace peeking as she stepped to the line.
Her blouse was soaked, clinging to her curves, her braids swaying as her fingers trembled around her bead.
Uneasy tension gripped her, her gray-green eyes flickering with doubt.
Her first shot dropped like lead, missing entirely.
0
.
Her eyes misted, her breath catching, and for a heartbeat, she froze, the crowdâs jeers and the windâs howl threatening to swallow her.
Lor slipped in beside her, his voice barely a whisper, soft but steady.
"Breathe, Nellie. Youâve got this. Five meters more is just one step bigger. Donât let the wind steal your magic."
His hazel eyes gleamed through his messy black hair, his lazy grin a lifeline in the storm.
Nellie swallowed, her freckled cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. His words settled her, a spark igniting in her chest.
She steadied, her grip tightening, the crowdâs wind feeling lighter, as if her resolve stoked its own breeze.
Her next shotâ
Snap
âgrazed the fifth ring.
3
.
The thirdâ
Crack
âlanded cleaner, fourth ring.
5
.
It wasnât perfection, but it was
hers
.
Nellie walked back, her braids bouncing, her freckles glowing under a sheen of sweat.
She looked at Lor, her gray-green eyes shining with resolve, a quiet
thank you
in her smile.
He nodded once, barely, and slouched back to his bench, his plain uniform blending into the shadows.
Class Dâs corner buzzed, their spark flaring brighter.
The scoreboard flickered, tallying their struggle, but the inner circleâs defiance burned hotter than any number.
Kiara danced onto the casting line, her energy a live wire, crackling with untamed electricity.
Her dark bangs clung to her forehead, her tight knit top and skirt hugging her lithe frame, black lace peeking as she moved with feline grace.
She caught Caelumâs gaze from Class Bâs polished benches, his tousled hair brushed by stray embers of mana, his sharp jawline catching the arenaâs light.
Her eyes locked onto his, a predatory glint shimmering within.
She arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sultry smirk.
"WIll you go on a date with me Caelum?," she yelled, her voice carried by the enchanted winds, dripping with challenge and allure.
Caelum leaned forward, his grin tight, a mix of intrigue and unease.
"Only if you land a perfect thirty," he shot back, his voice betraying a hint of nerves under her fiery stare.
"Deal," Kiara whispered, her wink a spark that set the air ablaze.
She raised her bead, her stance commanding, mana coiling around her like a serpent.
Her first shot scorched through the galeâ
Crack
âdead center.
10
.
The disc flared, embers dancing.
The secondâ
Boom
âanother bullseye, the disc bursting in a flash of light.
10
.
The thirdâ
Roar
âstruck true, flames licking the edges as the disc shuddered.
10
.
The scoreboard exploded, glyphs blazing:
Kiara â 30
. Average 10.
Applause thundered, the crowd roaring as spectral ravens screeched, carrying her name to the noble boxes.
Kiara spun on her heel, her skirt flaring, and strutted straight to Caelumâs stand.
She yanked a boy away and slid into the seat beside him with confident grace, her thigh brushing his, her black lace peeking as she crossed her legs.
"Told you," she purred, leaning close enough for him to feel her heat.
Caelumâs grin wavered, his heart racingânot from attraction but from the sheer intensity of her presence, like standing too close to a fire.
Laughter and amazement pealed around them, the spark between them shimmering like heat lightning, electric but dangerous.
Ameth followed, her blonde hair shining like a halo of flame, catching the arenaâs light as she stepped to the line.
Intrigued by a sudden whim, she switched to her left hand, her lips curling with self-assured curiosity.
Her tight uniform clung to her curves, purple lace peeking as she raised her bead, her movements cold and precise.
Her first shot struck the third ring, a searing impact.
7
.
The second hit cleaner, second ring.
8
.
The third was near-perfect, grazing the center.
9
.
Each bead left a smoking trail, the discs shuddering under her power.
She paused before the crowd, her icy blue eyes sweeping the stands as she blew a theatrical kiss, her self-admiring strut radiating pure, untouchable confidence.
She swept back to Class Dâs corner, her blonde hair swaying, but her peersâ reactions were mixedâEvaâs eyes narrowed, Oliviaâs jaw tightened, and the others exchanged glances of resentment. Amethâs brilliance was undeniable, but her cold narcissism left them chilled.