SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES-Chapter 157: Walking A Thin Line Against The Dragons

The arena atmosphere slowly settled after the Forsaken Peak victory, like a storm that didn't know if it should keep raging or retreat. The referee barely finished clearing the field before the announcer's voice rose again.

"Next match — Vermillion Academy!"

Wearing crimson uniforms with gold accents, he stepped forward looking elegant, confident, bored even. Their representative barely raised his hand before a torrent of concentrated flame shaped into a spiral and hewed through the opposing fighter's defenses.

It was efficient and brutal.

The opponent tried to stand and fight, but it was futile.

Less than thirty seconds, and he was on the ground, charred tiles steaming under his body.

The arena reacted with a roar.

Vermillion always delivered spectacle.

Aramith didn't react.

He had seen enough of Vermillion's style not to care. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Vermillion could bathe themselves in glory all they wanted. It no longer concerned him.

He simply noted the technique and filed it away inside his mind like an archive.

Mozrael, however, stared at the flames for a moment longer.Those colors reminded her of home.

Home. The word felt empty. They'd lost their home for some time now, but she still didn't feel the loss others would have felt.

Nothing in her memory registered as worth missing.

She wondered if Aramith felt anything, but his expression remained as calm as glass.

She didn't notice how his gaze lingered for a moment on the closed chamber of Vermillion Academy.

There, among them stood Iris and Isir.

Their posture screamed arrogance.Proud.Self-assured.

His eyes passed over them as if they were furniture.

He simply did not care. He was done with that kingdom. Until he was strong enough to go back.

Next was Tri-Serpent Bone Academy.

Bone-white uniforms. Charcoal lines. Flowing fire-like patterns. Some wore light armored robes that looked ceremonial, but every step was calculated. Their chosen fighter toyed with her opponent, using bone gauntlets that constantly cracked.

The sound was disturbing and frightening, and anytime it crackled, the audience felt it in their bones.

When the final blow landed, fire coiled around her fist like a red specter before tightening into a single devastating explosion.

Aramith noticed the precise control she had over the bones. When she relaxed her hands, the bones relaxed, hovering over her skin like they weren't part of her.

But when she moved to strike, they tightened to look like they were outgrowths rather than external weapons.

A few matches after was Abyssal Tide Academy.

Every student was female, their robes like layered waves with deep blues and pale greens that shifted like the ocean currents of their homeland.

Their representative fought a stone-type fighter, and with every flick of the wrist, water sliced through earthen pillars like they were sculpting clay. Their fight wasn't explosive and chaotic.

This was a surgical practice of skill and control.

And every move was elegant. At some point, it was even starting to look like she was trying to seduce her opponent rather than defeat him.

In her final attack, she drowned her opponent without drowning the arena.

After that, Dragon Emperor Academy.

Black uniforms.

Silver edges.

And gold trim like dragon horns. The fighter moved with terrifying brutality. Every time he struck, it was clearly a fully memorized manuscript of violence.

The referee had to intervene before the hit landed on the shoulder instead of the skull.

His opponent lasted ten seconds before his broken heap was dragged off.

The crowd held its breath.

—

And then Glacial Dominion.

White fabrics embroidered like frost. Their fighter moved without emotion.

His eyes remained flat, and his strikes, perfectly centered.

Their match felt like an execution disguised as a performance. Not a single voluntary movement was noticed from his opponent.

Unlike the others who proved their strength and skill, this guy simply removed his opponent from the equation.

The air literally felt colder after they finished.

This was the Academy that always remained at the top. Undefeated and untouched.

Aramith looked hard in their chamber, but Kesha wasn't there.

Lynnor noticed him casually looking for Kesha and smirked.

"Aww, I really wanted to see their ice princess. Too bad she didn't make an appearance today."

Aramith didn't react to her comment, but Mozrael noticed Lynnor was trying to get him to do so.

She knew something was going on between Aramith and Kesha, but when she asked, he just told her he was interested in her fighting technique.

(Which was true to some degree)

One by one, the day rolled forward—a gallery of strengths, styles, dominances, and pathetic defeats.

By the time the last battle ended, the sun had begun to sink into the horizon.

Long shadows stretched across the arena walls, and the audience buzzed with tension mixed with speculation, excitement, and fear.

The announcer raised his voice one final time:

"Tomorrow, lots will be drawn again. Format variations: singles, doubles, group rotations, or free-for-alls."

A wave of murmurs rippled instantly.

People had already begun debating strategies before they even left their seats.

Each format had a group it favored.

As students and spectators filtered out, conversations blurred between cheers and whispers.

"Tri-Serpent looked horrifying today…"

"Glacial Dominion is still untouchable."

"Abyssal Tide… I didn't expect that level of control. I wish they'd marry me and control me."

"Eww!"

"…but Forsaken Peak… that lightning kid… is their standard really like that… or was it a fluke?"

The noise lingered long after the arena lights dimmed.

And Forsaken Peak's first day…ended in uncertainty.

They earned no humiliation, but no true glory either.

They, however, remained in dangerous, simmering attention.

Before they could even reach the arena's outer corridor, Forsaken Peak found themselves blocked.

Students from Dragon Emperor Academy closed in on all sides

They just stood, sealing every exit, as if they had been waiting for this exact moment.

The arena crowd mostly drifted past without interest.

Why get involved?

Forsaken Peak was already marked.If trouble found them this early, so what? It didn't concern them

A few students lingered near the stair rails, though, leaning, whispering, curious.

They refused to step closer, but they weren't moving away either. They wanted to see what would happen… or how badly this would go.

The Dragon Emperor students said nothing at first.

Their silence felt heavier than words. Everyone could see their judging gazes.

FP. remained quiet. Even the tutors were still.

This was the kind of silence meant to intimidate without effort.

And the silence did its job of declaring dominance.

The silence told them: You are prey. We decide when you move.

Aramith's eyes narrowed slightly, irritated.

Mozrael felt her body stiffen, but not from surprise.

From the familiarity of pressure. She knew what it felt like to be cornered, and she knew what came next. She was itching to react if they did something.

Lynnor's jaw clenched, but she didn't step back or step forward. A few tutors watched her carefully, their eyes saying: Please don't do anything stupid.

Then, out of the group, the Dragon Emperor instructor finally stepped forward—hands behind his back, chin raised a fraction, expression carved from superiority.

"Forsaken Peak," he said. His voice carried like a judgment being pronounced. "You seem to feel comfortable here."

The crackle of tension in the air was palpable.

"This year, you had new students, and one of them was supposed to be with us, so why are you insulting us like this?"

Voices arose.

"They insulted them?"

"How? I didn't even see them interacting with them the whole day."

"Don't you know it feels insulting when someone weak tries to challenge you?"

"Huh? But they didn't challenge them at all, right?"

The tutor calmly looked at each face in FP, lingering a little on the student who'd fought for them in their first battle.

"So you refuse to respond?"

It was an easy way of dealing with this.

Say nothing and you claim nothing. If they responded, that gave them the chance to use it as an excuse if they had none.

When they waited for a moment, one student came forward.

This girl looked familiar and had a familiar aura as well, but Aramith didn't know what made her familiar.

"None of you here has the strength to be better than us, yet you chose to belittle one of us."

Silence.

"My sister was sent to your academy as a student. Where is—

As she continued to ask, Mozrael tugged at Aramith's sleeve.

"She smells like Sylvia," she whispered.

Aramith's eyes widened.

It was true.

So that's why she seemed familiar.

He understood now. Sylvia mentioned she was from that kingdom. And her clan wasn't one to sneeze at.

She never gave the reason why she came to that academy, but if that was the case, their reasons were valid.

Sylvia wasn't weak and could easily surpass most of the students in FP, so why was she not part of them here?

But even with that, this wasn't a good enough reason to pick a fight with them.

All they had to do was stay silent, and if things were to escalate, the Keepers would intervene.

This was all they needed to do.

"Are you guys stupid or what? Just get out of the way."

Lynnor!

Why? No!

.

.

.

But—

You had to choose this moment to let loose?