My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 1024: Dreams of the Past: The World Tournament (Part-2)
Another student, a sharp-eyed boy with flowing silver hair, chuckled. "Is this really the team sent by legendary Heavenly Academy? I was expecting warriors, not toddlers."
Eon exhaled slowly. "You know, it takes a special kind of stupidity to insult people you don’t know. I guess some people just grow up physically and not mentally."
"Stupid? How dare this little twerp call us stupid?" One of them got up from the seat, pretty much offended by Eon’s simple counter-attack, and about to walk toward her. The other team captain, a tall, arrogantly poised teenager with striking crimson hair, leaned back in her seat. "Relax," she said. "These kids probably aren’t used to how things work in the real world yet. They think they are strong because of having high reserves of soul energy."
Her voice was sickeningly condescending. Before anyone could respond, Rael’s captain stepped forward. Beowulf, the 13-year-old, smiled—but it wasn’t a friendly smile. "And yet," he said smoothly, "for all your so-called experience in the real world, you lack not only potential but even the most basic courtesy. How embarrassing for your academy."
Eon crossed her arms, adding more fuel to the fire with her sharp tongue. "C’mon, Captain. Please show mercy upon this pitiful bunch of veterans who couldn’t last a day in the wilderness of Arcana World on their own."
The smug expressions on their faces darkened instantly.
"You—!" One of them stood up, anger flaring in his eyes.
Chairs scraped against the wooden floor as both sides prepared for a fight. Bheema was already cracking his knuckles, his aura flaring with excitement. "Good. Now for some action."
But before anyone could throw a punch—
A massive shadow loomed over them.
A giant stepped into the hall.
He was over seven and a half feet tall, his body bulging with muscle in ways that seemed almost unnatural. His face, however, was oddly youthful—almost baby-like, contrasting heavily with his sheer size.
Rael’s first thought was that he was a teacher whose age was stuck. But he was wrong.
The giant folded his arms, his voice calm but deep enough to shake the walls. "That’s enough."
The opposing academy students immediately backed off, standing behind him like frightened cubs.
Rael narrowed his eyes. "Who was this guy?"
The crimson-haired captain smirked, crossing her legs. "Let me introduce. This is Orkas, a student from our academy and our teammate."
Rael’s eyes widened slightly. "A student?"
Eon muttered under her breath. "That guy’s built like a mountain... Even this monster of Bheema looked like a kid in front of this boy."
Bheema clenched his fists, his muscles bulged underneath his shirt, his expression hardening.
Orkas stared down at them. "If you’re here for the tournament, then act like it. Otherwise, you’ll embarrass yourselves before you even step into the arena."
Bheema’s fists tightened. "Oh? And what if I want to embarrass myself?" His battle thirst was almost radiating off of him.
Orkas cracked his neck, his presence alone a challenge. "In that case, I’ll help you out, midget."
Before things could escalate further, Beowulf stepped forward with a smile. He extended his hand toward Orkas. "Alright then, let’s be civil."
Orkas hesitated before reaching out to shake it.
The moment their hands met—
A sudden force crashed onto Orkas’ shoulders.
BAM!
The entire floor beneath him cracked. His knees buckled, and Orkas fell to the floor, kneeling under immense gravitational pressure. His breath hitched. "What—?!"
The opposing team stumbled back in shock, and so did Rael’s teammates. They didn’t know about this ability of his.
Beowulf then chuckled, his fingers glowing faintly with soul energy. "A little gravity goes a long way, doesn’t it?" His voice was smooth and controlled. "Now, do behave when I was gentle."
A shiver ran through the air.
The opposing academy students looked pale, their arrogance shattered in seconds. Orkas gritted his teeth. His muscles flexed, scales forming on his skin. His eyes turned reptilian, his breath turning into deep, guttural snarls.
The entire inn started shaking as if there was an earthquake as thick aura enveloped Orkas. His skin slowly started turning green.
"That’s enough."
A new voice sliced through the tension like a blade.
SMACK!
Before Orkas could complete his transformation, a blur moved. A hand struck the back of his neck, and his body froze—then collapsed.
Rael’s eyes widened. "That speed...? A 9-star?"
A woman stood behind Orkas, dusting her hands off. She was tall and composed, draped in combat robes with a sharp gaze that exuded authority.
And beside her, arms crossed and watching the scene with an unimpressed look, stood Catherine Purple.
"You’re getting ahead of yourself, kid," the woman said, staring down at Orkas’ unconscious form. "No need to scare the guests before the tournament even starts."
Catherine exhaled. "Idiots. All of you." She shot a sharp glare toward both teams.
The opposing academy students immediately straightened up, nodding like chastised children.
The 9-star expert then turned to Rael and the others, her sharp eyes scanning them briefly. "You must be the representatives from the Heavenly Academy," she noted. "I apologize for the behavior of my students."
Beowulf waved a hand. "No harm done. Well... maybe just a little." He smirked, dismissing the gravity spell he put on Orkas.
The woman chuckled. "I am Instructor Remi, one of the Kuru Academy’s overseers for the tournament. I suggest you all get some rest. You’ll need it." With that, she motioned for her students to leave, dragging the unconscious Orkas with her.
Catherine shot one last look at Rael and the others. "If any of you get into trouble again, I’m going to bring you back and make you run drills. Remember that you are the representatives of the most prestigious academy ever to be founded. So, behave."
She turned and walked away.
As soon as they were gone, the inn was silent again. Eon exhaled. "Well... that was fun." Rael groaned. "Can we just eat? I missed breakfast."
Eon glanced at her brother and nodded, placing her hand on her tummy. "Yeah, I think I’m hungry."
Bheema, still buzzing with energy, cracked his knuckles. "That Orkas guy... I wanna fight him for real."
Arjuna chuckled. "Guess you’ll get your chance in the tournament, elder brother."
Meanwhile, in the royal palace of Hastinapura, a 12-year-old muscular boy, although less bulky and shorter in height than Bheema, was seen wresting against the Crimson Tiger King—his own Arcana spirit.
An Arcana spirit is more or less the most loyal friend to an Arcana Master, and never has there been any situation where an Arcana Master expressed its killing intent toward its own host.
The boy and the beast engaged in an intense spar; the boy’s chest was filled with cuts from its claws while the beast was injured in the eye.
Letting out a growl, as the beast lunged at the boy, the latter bent his body backward, to avoid its claws. The beast landed on the floor. The boy then turned around and rushed toward the beast.
After a while, the beast was filled with injuries all over its body, and so was the boy. "Raaaaa"
Letting out a roar, the boy gave the final smack to its skull; the beast collapsed to the floor before flickering into specks of light and disappearing into his body.
*Clap* Clap* Clap*
A series of claps followed by a man limping on his right leg come into the private chamber. The boy turned his attention to him. "Uncle."
The man named Shakuni answered as he continued to limp toward the boy. "My dear nephew, you are amazing and ruthless as always."
The prince of the Kuru Dynasty, bathed in the blood of his own beast, clenched his fists tightly. "I heard that Bheema is here."
"Yes, he is, Duryodhana," Shakuni replied, stroking his beard. "The stage for his death has been arranged. All it needs for them to beat Elves and Taxashila." There was a cunning smile on his face.
The boy looked at him, shaking his head with a frown. "No, killing him now would only generate sympathy toward my uncle Pandu and his sons. If that happens before my coronation as the crown prince, that old geezer wouldn’t let it happen. Who knows, he can forcefully make Yudhisthira the crown prince. I need to wait until both of us are 16 and kill them during the trials. Only then I can legitimately walk away unpunished."
Shakuni narrowed one of his eyes. "You don’t understand it, nephew. Bheema was born with the blessings of the wind deity. The more you let him grow, the tougher it becomes to kill him. And he is the biggest obstacle for you to claim the throne."
"And do you think I don’t know that, uncle?" Duryodhana flared up at Shakuni, the blood of the beast on his beast was slowly vaporized as flames erupted from his body. "I want to kill that basta*d ever since I was three. Even now, I’m calming down my urges by taking it on my Arcana Spirit."
