BATTLES OF THE WORLDS

A sharp knock shattered the quiet like a pebble cracking still ice.

"Come in," Jian Dao said, his voice calm but edged with awareness.

The door groaned open on its iron hinges. Ling Xue stumbled in, cheeks flushed, strands of black hair plastered to her damp forehead. Her robes fluttered from the wind that had crept in behind her, making the nearby paper scroll rustle softly on the wall.

"Headmaster! Oh—Mike, good, you're here too." Her voice trembled with urgency. "No time—Wolfgang and Feng Jian are fighting! Inner Market—it's bad. Lei Hu's already there. They told me to get you. Fast!"

Mike bolted upright, his chair sliding back with a sharp screech against the smooth, obsidian-tiled floor. Outside the window, pine needles shook on thin branches, and one slipped free, floating down like a lost feather.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know!" she panted, tugging at her sleeves. "They just said hurry!"

Jian Dao's fingers traced the edge of an ink painting beside him—a hawk caught in mid-descent, talons outstretched. A gust from the hallway stirred the candlelight, casting its flicker across his thoughtful face.

"I can't interfere unless rules are broken," he murmured, folding his hands behind his back. "But Mike—check your storage ring. You may have forgotten something important."

Mike gave a short nod. "Understood, Master."

He turned to Ling Xue. "Lead the way."

Outside, the sky shimmered with a soft golden hue. The late sun scattered through maple leaves above, staining the path with swirls of red and amber. As they dashed across the stone paths of the academy, gravel crunched under their boots. Wind tugged loose petals from nearby planters—white plum blossoms dancing momentarily in the air before sinking into the dust.

"Master hinted at something in my storage ring…" Mike muttered as they passed a row of copper lanterns, their glass panes etched with dragons mid-roar.

"Forget that!" Ling Xue shouted over the wind. "Feng Jian's about to use Sword Sacrifice!"

Mike's breath caught. "That reckless fool…"

The Inner Market appeared beyond the curved gate, framed by flowering trees and red flags hanging from shop roofs. Incense smoke curled lazily above vendor stalls where silk, paper charms, and gemstone pendants swayed in the breeze.

The square was chaos.

Students crowded every surface—perched on railings, balanced atop crates, crouched behind ceramic pots. A child's forgotten toy drum rolled across the cobbles. Roasted chestnuts lay scattered beside a toppled cart.

At the heart of it, Feng Jian's blade moved like silver lightning, sparks flying with each strike.

"Continuous Sword Strike!" he roared, his sword carving bright arcs through the air, forming a shimmering dome around him.

Opposite him, Jin Hao stepped forward with a cruel smile. His movements were fluid, like a cat ready to pounce. "Only two tricks? Pitiful."

His spear blurred. "Ten Spear Strikes!"

The tips carved the air, slicing toward Feng Jian with terrifying speed.

Lei Hu leapt in, arms glowing faint green. His Rhino Shield shimmered into view—runic lines pulsing across its surface like veins of jade—but the impact cracked it like thin ice on a winter pond.

Feng Jian growled. "Didn't want to do this, but…"

"No!" Lei Hu shouted. "Mike's coming!"

Further down the path, Mike halted beneath a tree shedding bronze leaves.

"Too slow," he muttered. "Time to stop running."

The sky shimmered above.

Wings erupted from his back—sharp, translucent, and bright as polished steel. The wind bent around him, rustling prayer flags strung between rooftops.

Ling Xue blinked, speechless. "Wings?!"

He launched upward, his shadow cutting across a row of lotus-shaped lanterns. Shopkeepers ducked as the wind kicked over baskets of dried herbs.

Mike descended like a thunderclap, boots slamming onto the stone beside Feng Jian.

"Mike!" Feng Jian gasped, relief flashing in his eyes.

Jin Hao blinked. "And who are you supposed to be?"

Mike's voice was calm, cold. "The guy who asked why you're picking on my friends."

Jin Hao sneered. "If you don't know, then you don't matter."

Lei Hu dusted off a sleeve, breath sharp. "He was bullying juniors. Feng stepped in."

Mike's knuckles tightened around the shaft of a heavy hammer that shimmered into view—its surface traced with gold-veined runes, as if lightning had been caged in metal.

"Strength isn't a crown you wear to step on others," he said.

"Then show me yours," Jin Hao snapped.

He lunged again.

Metal met metal with a crash that sent nearby streamers snapping in the wind. A hanging banner tore in half above them, drifting to the ground like a fallen leaf.

Jin Hao bared his teeth. "You'll regret this!"

Mike smiled grimly. "You're already repeating yourself."

The spear danced toward him—Ten Spear Strikes—each thrust screaming through the air.

But Mike's hammer flared with light. Reverse Shot roared forth, catching the strikes and hurling the energy backward like a slingshot snap. He twisted into the air just as the cobblestones cracked, flames licking at the broken stones.

Smoke swirled. Someone coughed.

"Where is he?"

"There!" a student pointed upward.

Mike hovered above the square, framed by the sun. His wings caught the light, casting a silhouette like a bird forged from fire and metal.

Feng Jian grinned. "He dodged the hit and drained Jin Hao. Smart."

"Too smart," Lei Hu added, smirking.

Below, Jin Hao growled, eyes bloodshot. Power coiled around him like a storm cloud. The sky dimmed as his aura surged—his spear radiating molten gold.

"He's using a forbidden art…" someone whispered.

Mike's brow furrowed.

"So that's how it is."

He raised his hammer again. Wind ripped through the stalls. Umbrellas toppled. Crimson petals flew like burning ash.

The square braced.

The real fight had only just begun.