Saint Academy

Final Round Match 1: Zeke Alastair vs Thorne Kaol

Battlefield Location: The Crucible, a vast, arena-sized chamber buried beneath Saint Academy, designed to reflect and react to Divinity output. Smooth obsidian walls shimmer under pressure. Arcane glyphs glow in shifting patterns above, scanning every pulse of power. High-ranking Saints, Holy Council members, and students watch from floating crystal balconies around the edges.

Opening Moments

The Crucible pulsed with anticipation as Zeke Alastair stepped into the center, firelight flickering in his eyes, his toned arms flexing as flames licked along his knuckles. Across from him stood Thorne Kaol, the Uriel-ranked Bulwark Knight, his plated form gleaming with divine steel, etched with runes from a forgotten era. The floor beneath their boots cracked as pressure built.

Above, the announcer's voice rang out:

> "Final Round – Match One: Zeke Alastair versus Thorne Kaol! Fighters, prepare yourselves! The Crucible awaits!"

The terrain beneath them shifted into a wide, rocky plain — cracked earth and scattered boulders under a smoldering crimson sky. The Crucible mimicked a battlefield at the edge of eruption, responding to Zeke's smoldering Divinity and Thorne's unwavering will.

A horn blared.

The battle began.

Steel vs Flame

Thorne charged first, cloaked in radiant steel constructs that materialized around his body like moving armor. A Divine Bastion formed behind him — a massive construct that followed like a spectral guardian.

Zeke didn't flinch. He planted his feet, grinned, and raised his fists. Flames burst from his elbows like jets as he launched forward with a Phoenix Dash, narrowly dodging Thorne's initial strike.

Their first clash was thunderous.

CLANG!

Steel met searing flame as Zeke's punch collided with Thorne's gauntlet. Sparks flew, the impact blasting shockwaves through the Crucible. Zeke spun, sweeping Thorne's legs, but Thorne anchored himself midair and retaliated with a Heavenplate Slam — a strike from his arm-blade construct that sent Zeke skidding back.

Zeke stood, wiping blood from his mouth, eyes narrowed. "That tickled."

Heat Rising

Zeke's body erupted in flame, his fists glowing red-hot as he activated Furnace Flow, converting Divinity into raw combustion power. His next punch wasn't just fast — it detonated on impact.

He threw a barrage of flaming jabs that melted Thorne's lesser constructs mid-air. The Crucible responded—stones turned molten, air shimmered from heat distortion.

But Thorne wasn't fazed.

With a growl, he summoned his full Aegis Construct, an impenetrable wall of divine steel that slammed into the ground between them. Zeke's punches exploded harmlessly against it.

"Your fire's impressive," Thorne said, stepping through the smoke. "But your fists can't break conviction."

He rammed Zeke with his shoulder, launching him into a pillar. It cracked. Zeke slumped… coughing… smiling.

"Then it's a good thing I don't just punch."

Uriel Ascension

As Thorne advanced, Zeke's flame guttered, then surged.

The Crucible began to rumble.

A golden aura erupted around Zeke, light swallowing the flame as runes burst from beneath his skin, ancient and divine. His heartbeat echoed across the arena.

> "Zeke Alastair… has ascended to URIEL RANK!"

The arena transformed violently — pillars melted, the floor turned to magma. The Crucible's terrain shifted into a living volcano, reacting to Zeke's evolution.

Zeke rose, eyes blazing gold and red.

He extended one hand, pulling from the lava itself.

From the inferno came his manifestation — a Flameborn Phoenix, its wings outstretched behind him.

"Let's turn your bastion… into a furnace."

Inferno Breaker vs Divine Bastion

Thorne reinforced his full Divine Aegis, raising his shield construct and channeling all his energy into defense. Zeke dashed forward — faster, hotter, wilder than ever.

"INFERNO BREAKER!" Zeke roared.

He compressed all his flames into a burning meteor punch and launched it forward alongside his summoned Phoenix, which screeched and dove with him.

BOOM!

Steel shattered. Divine constructs melted like wax. The punch landed square in Thorne's chest and blasted him through three stone pillars, flames chasing him like a tidal wave.

When the smoke cleared, Thorne lay unmoving, his armor charred, breathing heavy—but smiling.

"...Well fought," he whispered, before losing consciousness.

Outcome

> "Victory: Zeke Alastair! Team 11 leads 1 – 0!"

The Crucible slowly cooled as the flames died, returning to neutral terrain.

Zeke turned to the crowd, still glowing with residual gold and crimson energy. He didn't raise his fists or bask in glory. He simply looked upward.

> "I'm coming, John Davis. One day... I'll stand beside you."

Final Round Match 2: Amara Veyne vs Calliston Drae

Setting: The Crucible now reconfigures into a massive open canyon beneath a starlit sky, reflecting Calliston's celestial-gravity Divinity. Floating platforms and fragmented terrain drift lazily in midair, and shimmering arrows of light crisscross the atmosphere like constellations—this is Calliston's domain.

From the other end of the crucible, Amara Veyne steps forward, eyes sharp with calculation. She's visibly smaller, less physically imposing, but her mind is a cathedral of logic and foresight. Her aura glows faint pink, humming softly with Divinity sensors orbiting her like translucent petals.

The announcer's voice rises once more:

> "Match Two of the Finals! Calliston Drae, Gabriel Rank, Gravity Archer. Versus Amara Veyne, Chamael Rank, Mind-Seer. Fighters, begin!"

A Battle of Gravity and Thought

Calliston raises his hand. Five gleaming graviton arrows materialize and fire in an arc across the battlefield before the bell even finishes sounding.

Amara's body twists like a ribbon—dodging two, redirecting a third with a well-timed Divinity Pulse Shield, while the last two explode against her shield bubble. She's winded but calm.

> "Not bad," Calliston murmurs, adjusting his grip on his spectral bow. "But you won't keep up for long."

The gravity around them intensifies—platforms buckle and twist mid-air. Graviton mines float around Amara like orbiting moons, pulsing with unstable force.

Amara narrows her eyes, taps her lens implant, and begins rapid calculations in real time.

> "He's mapped my trajectory… trying to herd me into a false blind spot…"

She suddenly leaps sideways—just as a Singularity Arrow rips through where she stood, bending space behind it. The explosion distorts the air.

Calliston smiles.

> "You're smarter than you look."

Amara lands on a floating shard of terrain. Sweat dots her brow. Her heart races.

She begins layering predictive constructs around herself—semi-autonomous data-ghosts of her own motion, designed to confuse Calliston's predictive targeting. Each afterimage twitches independently.

> "Let's see how you handle twenty of me."

Calliston fires a wide burst of arrows that home in on her location—but four of them pass through decoys and two are redirected back into the canyon wall by an inverted gravity spike Amara hacked from one of his own traps.

The crowd murmurs.

Even the Holy Council leans in.

Amara shifts the battlefield now—using tech-augmented beacons to distort the floating platforms and accelerate her movements across gravitational currents.

Calliston's smirk fades.

Calliston narrows his eyes. He plants his bow into the ground.

> "Enough dancing."

He raises both hands and invokes his Ultimate Technique: Astral Fall, channeling an orbital field of celestial energy. From the heavens, dozens of luminous gravity arrows begin to descend.

Each one is a comet.

The entire Crucible now resembles a planet being bombarded.

Amara gasps—every exit blocked. Every escape sealed.

She closes her eyes.

Calculates.

Listens.

> "Left. Delay 1.4 seconds. Shift vertical. Pulse overload…"

She surges straight through the falling arrows with frame-perfect movement. Her mind parses the storm like code, and her limbs react like a dancer in a war zone.

She ascends a floating rock, backflips off it, and lands behind Calliston with a Divinity dagger aimed for his neck.

> "Checkmate."

But—

A gravity shift spike pulses.

Amara's body suddenly slams to the ground, her predictive pattern broken. Calliston had embedded a delayed inversion behind himself.

He turns.

> "You were close. That was impressive."

Then, a single well-placed graviton arrow blasts her into a crater.

She coughs, blood trailing from her lip. Her body screams at her to stop.

But something inside refuses.

The Spark of Evolution

Amara pushes up to one knee.

> "No... not yet. Not until I prove it…"

Visions of her past flash in her mind. Her failures. Her isolation. The way people looked down on her not because of weakness—but because of her difference.

> "I won't lose… not here… not to him."

Her aura surges violently.

A pulse of yellow light spreads across the field.

> "Amara Veyne has ascended to Jophiel Rank!"

Calliston stumbles back as a new algorithmic construct forms around her—a spinning lattice of Divinity patterns, rotating like a celestial gyroscope.

She launches three calculated counter-scripts at Calliston's body: one disrupts his balance, another scrambles his sight, and the third creates an anti-gravity bubble that slings her into melee range.

Her elbow cracks into his jaw. The first hit she's landed clean.

Calliston steps back, grinning through the blood. "You're full of surprises."

Amara raises her hand for one final attempt at victory—a pulse that begins to destabilize his gear.

But Calliston closes his eyes.

> "It's time I stop underestimating you."

He summons a divine arrow, twice as long as his others, infused with the full weight of a small moon.

> "Event Arrow: Neutron Collapse."

He fires.

The arrow passes through her barriers and knocks Amara flat, draining her Divinity.

A silence falls over the arena.

She's out.

But not broken.

Result

> "Victory: Calliston Drae. Match score: 1 – 1."

Amara lies on the ground, panting but smiling faintly.

> "I almost had you."

Calliston walks up, helps her stand, and whispers:

> "You had me scared. That's more than most can say."

As she walks off, the crowd bursts into applause—not just for Calliston, but for Amara's brilliance, tenacity, and growth.

She looks up toward the distant sky, then down at her glowing yellow palm.

> "Jophiel rank… Still not enough. I have so far to go."

She walks away silently, but with a fire in her chest the size of a sun.

Final Round: Damien Gray vs Ronan Varell

Terrain Shift: As the combatants step into the arena, the Crucible quakes and transforms once again. This time, it expands into an infinite shimmering battlefield, laced with fractured swords embedded into the ground, glowing runes hanging in midair, and a storm brewing in the clouds above. The terrain reflects Ronan's Radiant Slash System — a realm born of war, precision, and divine judgment.

The crowd hushes. Even instructors hold their breath.

From one end walks Ronan Varell — Gabriel Rank, clad in radiant white armor woven with sword-light. His sword floats beside him, spinning slowly, humming with Divinity.

From the other end… steps Damien Gray.

Still Zadkiel rank. Bruised. Shirt half-torn. A faint pulse of void still clings to his steps like shadows that refuse to die. But in his eyes—absolute resolve.

> "Final match. Damien Gray versus Ronan Varell. Begin!"

Technique vs Tenacity

Ronan wastes no time. The moment the bell sounds, he dashes forward in a burst of radiant speed. His sword doesn't swing — it slashes space itself, sending a horizontal crescent of light toward Damien.

Damien dodges by a hair, the heat slicing off part of his sleeve. He closes the gap instantly, launching a brutal punch.

Ronan counters midair with a reverse radiant arc — the impact knocks Damien backward, feet skidding across the floor. But he doesn't fall.

> "You're quick," Ronan mutters. "But raw power isn't enough."

Damien wipes blood from his mouth.

> "Then I'll just get stronger."

They clash again.

Damien ducks a slash.

Uppercuts Ronan.

Ronan spins, slicing down — blade nearly bisecting Damien's shoulder, but a last-second void pulse diffuses the blow.

> "Tch. That strange power again," Ronan notes.

> "And I've barely started using it."

Ronan backs away and raises his blade skyward.

> "Radiant Technique – Seventh Form: Heavenbrand Rain."

From the clouds, dozens of radiant swords rain down like spears of godly wrath.

Damien weaves through them, but one slams into his shoulder — another pierces his thigh. Blood spurts. He falls to one knee, breath ragged.

> "Is this... all I am?"

Ronan charges, preparing to end it.

> "It was a good fight, Damien. But you're still too early in your journey."

Damien's hand twitches.

His vision dims.

Then...

The void stirs.

> "No," Damien whispers. "I'm not done yet."

His eyes flare dark violet.

Black veins crawl up his arms.

The ground cracks.

A pressure erupts — a shockwave of void-infused divinity spreads across the arena.

The terrain twists — swords melt into shadows, light dims, and the storm goes silent.

From the center, Damien stands — fists clenched — Uriel Rank.

The Void Descendant Awakens

Damien's aura is vast now — a storm of silent black and purple flame. His form looks weightless, trailing threads of space-warping energy.

Ronan blinks in disbelief.

> "He just… evolved mid-battle?"

> "Now," Damien growls, "let's really fight."

He vanishes — not with speed, but through a void slip. He reappears behind Ronan and lands a bone-shattering punch to the ribs. Ronan flies through three floating stone platforms before catching himself.

> "So it's not just power. You can warp now…"

Radiant Slash vs Void Arsenal

Ronan activates his ultimate form — Divinity Overload: Celestial Armory. Five radiant blades float behind him like wings.

Damien conjures his new Void Arsenal:

1. Nullstep Barrage – A teleporting punch-chain that tears through space.

2. Voidgrasp Chains – Binding tendrils that anchor Ronan's movements.

3. Echo Breaker Pulse – A mid-range shockwave that distorts energy and force.

4. Eclipse Drive – His Uriel-rank dash technique that destabilizes radiant constructs.

5. Black Sun Collapse – His final move. A condensed sphere of reality-imploding void.

They go at it.

Each sword swing from Ronan is met by a teleport, a void shield, or a counterstrike.

Damien launches a Nullstep Barrage, his fists colliding with Ronan's sword like cannon blasts.

Ronan flips backward, unleashing Heavenbrand Twelfth Form: Astral Divide — a sweeping radiant arc that splits the battlefield.

Damien takes the hit — on purpose — and dives through the energy to land an Echo Breaker Pulse, sending Ronan reeling.

They both stand, breathing hard. Cut. Bruised. Staggered.

> "You're better than I thought," Ronan admits.

> "You're the strongest I've fought," Damien responds. "But this is my path."

He raises his hand. The void coils around his fist like a dying star.

> "Ultimate Void Art: Black Sun Collapse."

A silent orb forms above his palm — dense, pulsing, gravitational. Everything bends toward it.

> "This is the end!" Damien yells, launching the sphere.

Ronan braces — all five blades forming a radiant cross. He slashes with everything—

But the Black Sun devours the attack.

Then...

Boom.

A massive implosion.

Light and shadow twist.

When the dust clears…

Ronan lies on the ground, unconscious.

Damien stands, barely — but victorious.

> "Victory… Damien Gray! Team Eleven… wins the Saint Academy Tournament!"

The arena erupts.

Even the Holy Council stares in awe.

In that moment, Damien Gray, once a Zadkiel nobody, becomes a Saint prodigy known across the world.

But their victory is short-lived.

A crack rips through the sky.

And from it—warlocks and witches descend.

Cloaked in chaos. Dripping with a corrupted form energy.

They strike the academy without warning. No time for a counterstrike.

Damien turns, barely able to stand.

> "No…"