The Forsaken Heir's Ascension
Chapter 89: First Clash in the Warden’s Way Arena

Chapter 89: First Clash in the Warden’s Way Arena

Alex smiled, glancing at Hati, whose eyes remained shut.

He crouched down, focusing. Lightning crackled around his legs.

Crack! Crack!

BOOM!

A shockwave burst from the ground as he launched forward.

A flicker of black light streaked through the Academy’s forest garden, fast and barely visible.

Boom!

A thunderous crash echoed—like a boulder smashing through a tree.

A human-shaped dent formed in a tree trunk. Moments later, someone skidded across the grass, leaving a trail of ripped earth behind.

Far off, Alex lay near another tree, clothes torn, face streaked with mud and grass. Groaning, he slowly stood.

"It really hurts... to swim in the ground," he muttered dryly.

He summoned the healing aura of his wood element, a soft green glow surrounding him. Once restored, he took off again.

As a tree loomed in his path, he tried to change direction. He barely managed it—his right shoulder grazed the bark, and he tumbled, rolling painfully across the dirt.

He sat up, spitting grass and mud from his mouth, hair a wild mess.

Gripping his shoulder, he hissed,

"Damn, that hurt... but I think I’m getting a little better."

A green-golden light shimmered around his body.

His lips curled into a mad grin.

"Let’s try again."

Boom!

The echo rang out from a quiet corner of the Academy’s garden.

Then silence.

Then another boom.

It continued, over and over, with brief pauses, until the sun finally gave up and sank behind the horizon.

But Alex didn’t stop.

He trained, again and again—improving little by little.

Every improvement came with pain.

But he never gave up.

In the luxurious meeting hall of the Veylor Club, Riven Veylor sat beside a striking, blue-eyed girl. Her tight leather armor outlined her well-sculpted frame, and her calm yet confident gaze remained fixed on the club president and team captain—Aslan Veylor.

Riven leaned in slightly and asked, "Can’t we just cross all the columns using space element?"

Aslan chuckled lightly, his large eyes twinkling. "Vice-captain is quite powerful—but no, we can’t do that."

He raised a finger. "First, each column is protected by an anti-teleportation barrier to prevent cheating."

A second finger went up. "Second, to qualify as having ’crossed,’ a player must earn ten points by attacking the defenders. You can do that either by directly landing attacks, distracting defenders so teammates can pass, or passing through one by one columns."

He smiled and continued, "That’s why dashers are the most vital role. For the attacking team, we’ll have four dashers, four blasters, and two shield breakers. The defending team will have one anchor, five trappers, and four reflectors."

Riven paused, thoughtful. "And what’s our role in this?"

He gestured toward himself and Lyra.

Aslan hesitated. A bead of sweat formed on his temple. "Ms. Duskthorn will be an excellent dasher. Her control of daggers is flawless, and her water element enhances her speed. As for... vice-captain..." He trailed off, clearly uneasy. "You’re flexible. You could be a dasher, a blaster, or even a shield breaker. Your space affinity gives you tremendous range."

He looked down, nervous. "But as a defender... I’m not sure where you’d fit."

Riven smiled without malice. "Don’t worry, cousin. Winning matters more than anything else. I’m glad you considered our strengths."

Just then, a translucent blue screen appeared before Riven.

[System]: Host should choose Shield Breaker and Trapper roles. Estimated win probability: +63%.

Riven stared at the message for a second, then slowly clenched his fist.

Looking up at Aslan, he said calmly but firmly, "Captain, I’ll take the role of Shield Breaker—and Trapper."

Aslan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly nodded with a forced smile and twitching hands. "As you command, Vice-Captain."

Riven stood. "When’s our first match?"

Aslan stood as well and answered with formality, "In five days—during the elimination round, sir."

Riven gave a short nod, his glowing violet eyes unreadable. He turned to Lyra and extended his hand. She took it without hesitation, and together, they walked out of the room.

Click.

The door closed.

A wave of exhaled relief swept through the remaining club members, like a roomful of people realizing they’d been holding their breath.

Abslan slumped into his chair, rubbing his sore neck. His monkey-like face was drawn with exhaustion. "It’s always so tiring talking to him... feels like every muscle tense up."

Alex woke before the sun had a chance to pierce the veil of darkness.

After freshening up, he left the dorm quietly, leaving Hati still asleep, and made his way to his usual training spot.

Yesterday’s training had been brutal—intense and painful. But pain was a better teacher than comfort. His body now instinctively avoided the trees... though he still struggled to control his lightning-powered sprint.

Taking a deep breath, Alex pressed his foot into the soft ground and launched forward. Clumps of mud and blades of grass scattered behind him, torn by sheer force. Black lightning crackled around his body, threading through the fading darkness of dawn like a streak of night refusing to die.

He moved like a phantom—fast, low, and barely touching the earth. He pivoted with his right foot, then his left, tilting inward and spiralling around a tree. His head missed the bark by barely a paper’s width.

He looped back to his starting point, never slowing down, circling again with increasing precision.

High above, coiled around the tallest spire of the academy—a silhouette stirred. A dragon-shaped shadow, its massive body wrapped in tight spirals over the snow-covered stone, opened glowing violet eyes. It watched the shimmering arc of black lightning below.

A voice as ancient as grinding stone rumbled in amusement. With a fanged, human-like grin it whispered,

"You’ve improved... I knew you were the child of prophecy, Master."

At that moment, Alex’s sprint faltered.

He tripped.

Slammed face-first into the ground.

BOOM.

"ARGHHH—my face!" he groaned, rolling over and clutching his nose and mouth. Blood streamed between his fingers.

After healing the broken nose, he sat up and looked at the sky—almost fully dawn now.

He sighed. "Only in fifteen minutes black thunder elemental power drains completely..."

He clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

"Let’s work on control first—power can come later."

Later that morning, inside the Rebel Club’s training hall, Alex stood in ragged clothes, mud-streaked and grass-covered. Beside him, Hati stared up at him with narrowed, judging eyes.

Alex leaned down and whispered sheepishly, "We’ll eat later. The vice-captain is strict about time... so please, just bear with me."

Hati growled, eyes full of betrayal—"I will murder you" levels of betrayal.

Alex sighed, then leaned in with his secret weapon.

"I’ll order three steaks. And I’ll throw in your favourite BBQ skewers too."

Hati’s ears perked up. His eyes sparkled. His tongue lolled out happily.

He barked once in agreement.

Alex nodded to himself, smug.

Too easy, brother.

Moments later, Tina Drakthorn entered the Rebel Club training hall.

Every member instantly fell silent. Conversations died mid-sentence. Weapons clanked softly in their racks. The entire room stiffened into attention like soldiers before a general.

Tina’s crimson eyes swept across the grey-walled hall. Her long, burning-red hair shimmered like flowing fire. She stood tall, arms crossed over her muscular frame, radiating raw presence.

Her voice echoed through the room, strong and commanding:

"Today, we decide—who will sit and who will fight in the match."

Her eyes glowed slightly as she added,

"Only those who give us a chance to win will step onto the field. So give it your all in today’s mock battle."

She reached into her coat, pulling out a tablet.

"Here are the teams."

Her voice sharpened with authority.

"Alexander will be Dasher of Team A."

"Rina Roarhart, Dasher of Team A."

"Selene Frostreign, Shield Breaker of Team A."

"I’ll be Captain of Team A."

"Darian will be Captain of Team B."

As Alex glanced around Team A, he noticed the lineup:

Three Dashers—including himself and Rina Roarhart.

Three Blasters.

Three Shield Breakers—including Selene Frostreign.

And at the center, leading from the front, was their Captain—Tina Drakthorn, who would also act as the primary Shield Breaker and frontal attacker.

Across the field stood Team B, the defenders.

Their composition was very different—four Anchors including their captain, Darian, three Trappers, and three Reflectors. A team built for holding the line.

Alex’s eyes scanned the field once more before settling on Rina and Selene.

They were both staring at him. Intensely.

Either way, their silent staring contest was cut short by a voice like thunder.

"Huddle up for strategy!" Tina’s voice cracked through the field like lightning splitting the sky.

The ten members of Team A gathered quickly, the air thick with tension, fear, and respect. Tina’s presence was overwhelming—like standing too close to a volcano that hadn’t erupted... yet.

She stood tall, arms crossed, her expression hard.

"We have only fifteen minutes. I’ll take on Darian and keep him occupied. The rest of you—your goal is simple. Move. Get past their columns as fast as possible. Hit hard, hit fast."

Everyone’s eyes widened. Even Alex.