Temporal Dominion

The ground shook beneath Lucian's feet.

Dust and debris scattered across the battlefield as Dorian Ferros, Rank #7 of the Academy, activated his full ability.

The sheer force radiating from his body was suffocating. It was as if a living colossus had awakened, and Lucian stood directly in its path.

Lucian took a slow breath, steadying himself.

I can't match his strength.

But I don't need to.

He had to fight smarter.

Dorian smirked. "Come on, Vale. Show me what you've got."

Then, he charged.

Lucian's Chronokinesis flared—his perception of time slowed.

But even slowed, Dorian was terrifyingly fast.

Lucian barely sidestepped in time, avoiding a fist that tore through the air with enough force to pulverize stone. The moment the strike missed, the ground exploded, sending shockwaves through the arena.

A single punch could've ended the fight.

Lucian gritted his teeth. I can't let him hit me.

He retaliated, Flow Acceleration boosting his speed. His footwork became sharper, his strikes quicker. He darted around Dorian, striking at weak points—his ribs, his joints, his exposed side.

A calculated attack—precise, relentless.

But Dorian barely flinched.

Lucian could feel it—the overwhelming difference in power.

Dorian lunged again. Lucian dodged, but this time—

He wasn't fast enough.

A crushing force slammed into his guard.

Lucian was sent flying. His body crashed into the arena floor, rolling across the cracked stone. Pain flared through his limbs.

Damn it—

Before he could fully recover, Dorian was already upon him.

Lucian threw himself sideways as another titanic punch struck the ground where he had been. The arena trembled from the impact.

He was being overwhelmed.

Lucian staggered to his feet, breathing heavily. His vision blurred from the damage, his muscles burned from exertion.

He had only one chance left.

Dorian smirked. "Still standing? Alright then, let's finish this."

Lucian's Chronokinetic vision sharpened.

He saw it—the opening.

As Dorian lunged, Lucian slowed him down. Not by much. Just a fraction of a second.

But it was enough.

Lucian twisted his body, channeling all his remaining strength into a single, concentrated strike.

A precise, accelerated blow—right to Dorian's temple.

The hit landed.

Dorian's head jerked to the side. His body stumbled.

For the first time in the fight, he had been hurt.

The crowd gasped.

Lucian had lost. But—

He had drawn blood.

---

Unleashing the Beast

Silence followed for a brief moment.

Then—

A low, dangerous growl rumbled from Dorian's throat.

He slowly turned back toward Lucian, a crimson cut running down his temple.

The grin was gone.

His golden eyes burned with fury.

"…You dare."

Lucian's breath caught in his throat.

The arena cracked beneath Dorian's feet.

The pressure in the air tripled. The ground beneath him fractured from sheer rage.

The crowd's excitement turned into unease.

Lucian could barely move before Dorian grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air like a ragdoll.

"You think a lucky hit means anything?" Dorian's voice was eerily calm, but his grip tightened. "I was just playing with you. Now—I'll show you the difference between us."

Lucian struggled, gasping for air. He tried to activate Flow Deceleration, to slow Dorian's movements—but it was useless.

Dorian wasn't moving.

He was simply crushing him.

A chill ran through the crowd.

This wasn't part of the fight anymore.

Dorian wasn't holding back.

He was ready to kill.

And then, Darkness fell without warning.

The light in the arena vanished, swallowed by an all-consuming black void.

The temperature dropped. The shadows around them moved, twisting and stretching unnaturally. A suffocating presence filled the battlefield, pressing down on every spectator like an unseen weight.

A new force had entered the fight.

Dorian froze.

His grip on Lucian's throat slackened—just slightly.

Then—

A shadowy tendril shot from the ground, wrapping around his wrist. Another coiled around his legs, anchoring him in place.

A voice, smooth and chilling, echoed through the arena.

"Let him go, Dorian."

From the darkness, a figure emerged.

Elara Voss.

Rank #3 of the Academy.

The Shadow Empress.

Her silver eyes glowed ominously in the black mist surrounding her. The darkness obeyed her will, swirling at her feet like a living entity.

Dorian gritted his teeth. The Titan's Might resisted all external forces—yet his arms and legs refused to move.

The shadows had paralyzed him.

"Elara…" Dorian's voice was low, edged with fury. "This isn't your fight."

Elara tilted her head slightly, unfazed by his anger. "It is now."

The shadows around her grew thicker, pressing against Dorian like a silent warning.

Her voice, deceptively calm, carried an undeniable authority.

"If you take one more step, I'll make sure you regret it."

Dorian's body tensed. The air crackled as his muscles flexed, straining against the unseen restraints.

For a moment, it seemed as if he would try to break free.

Then—he exhaled sharply.

The tension snapped.

With a scoff, Dorian relaxed his fists and stepped back, the shadows uncoiling from his limbs.

"Tch. Whatever."

The arena's darkness receded, the suffocating presence lifting. The spectators, who had been holding their breath, released it in an unsteady wave.

Elara turned slightly, her gaze falling onto Lucian.

Even in his injured state, he met her eyes.

For a moment, she studied him. Then, without a word, she turned away.

"This match is over. Disperse."

The command left no room for argument.

Slowly, the tension in the crowd eased, and people began murmuring as they left.

Reynard Duskbane chuckled from the sidelines. "Well, that was dramatic."

Selene Virelle scoffed. "Lucian lost, as expected. But Dorian losing his temper? That's rare."

Lyra Everhart, however, watched Lucian more carefully.

"…He didn't win. But he made an impression."

Lucian, still kneeling, clenched his fists.

He had lost.

But for a brief moment—he had forced one of the Top Ten to acknowledge him.

And that was only the beginning.