Chapter 95: Chapter 95: Can’t Even Swing My Dick in Peace

One hour.

That’s all it took for things to escalate from a sweet reunion with the heroines and the villainess to me standing inside an arena like a gladiator.

The place was packed. Every seat filled. These motherfuckers had skipped their entire class schedule just to watch four students tear each other apart.

Can’t blame them though. The lineup was something else.

First was Angelica Zel Holfort. The Imperial Princess. Her family didn’t just rule a territory or two. They ruled almost all of them.

Charlotte Lombardi. The Royal Princess of the North. Her family held an entire kingdom under their boot.

Then came Aria Halloway. No royal title. No imperial crest. But her bloodline was rumored to descend from dark mages powerful enough to rival the Lombardi house blow for blow. In wealth. In strength. In the kind of destructive force that rewrites maps. And her family didn’t need any fancy title to prove it.

And finally. Me.

Deculein fal Orenis. Son of the Golden Duchess. My mother had her fingers dipped in every trade, every market, every industry this fantasy world could offer. Peak businesswoman in a land ruled by swords and spells.

Too bad her wonderful son got tossed out of that ocean of wealth.

’Not my loss.’

Once I cleared this floor, I’d be leaving this world behind. And poor Deculein? He could enjoy his freshly inherited poverty. A parting gift from yours truly.

My thoughts were cut by a commanding voice.

“Barrier mages! Set up the walls!”

Over ten mages stepped forward. All defensive specialists. Their entire class existed for one sole purpose inside this academy. Create barriers strong enough to protect spectators from whatever chaos the arena produced.

And this fight needed every bit of it.

Angelica had arranged the whole stage through her authority. The wager was public knowledge by now. Every student, every professor, probably even the rats beneath the floorboards knew the terms. And the crowd’s energy made it painfully obvious whose side they were on.

The two girls standing across from us.

Angelica stood in gleaming armor that caught the light with every breath. Holy Knight. A class blessed by the heavens themselves. The polar opposite of the woman beside me.

Charlotte crackled with faint arcs of electricity dancing across her skin. Lightning Mage. Fast. Destructive. Flashy as hell.

Aria’s hands simmered with dark crimson energy. Dark Mage. A class that terrified people just by its name alone.

And me? Support class. The weakest hero with the most pathetic toolkit in existence.

The announcer raised his hand. “Are both sides ready?”

Nobody looked at me for confirmation. Obviously.

“BEGIN!”

BOOOOM.

The second his command echoed through the arena, Angelica muttered something to Charlotte. Both surged forward instantly.

For a brief moment I thought Charlotte was headed my way. Her angle was sharp, cutting in my direction, and my hand instinctively reached for…

Nothing. She blew right past without sparing a glance. She was flanking wide, circling to trap Aria from the side while Angelica charged straight at her.

They moved as a unit. Coordinated. Practiced.

Meanwhile Aria didn’t acknowledge my existence either. Both her hands bled pure crimson energy that dripped from her fingertips like liquid fire. Her focus locked entirely on the two approaching threats.

So that was my role.

Ignored by my opponents. Ignored by my own teammate. I bet even the spectators forgot someone was standing here.

I didn’t mind.

What they gave me was more valuable than any flashy ability. Time. Time to stand here and study their movements. Their coordination. Their timing. Their teamwork.

Map the rhythms. Plot the holes.

Knowledge was the real weapon one should have and need. And right now it was loading.

Aria’s attention snapped to Angelica first. She raised her hands and fired a continuous beam of dark red energy straight at the charging knight.

VSSSSSSHHH.

Angelica didn’t slow down. She raised her holy sword flat like a shield and the beam split cleanly in two on impact. Both halves scattered harmlessly behind her. Zero damage.

The hissing of that beam was something else. Sounded like concentrated venom. The kind of noise a building-sized serpent would make spitting acid. And I could hear it clearly even from this far.

But Angelica kept closing in. Step by step. Pushing through the stream of dark energy like it was nothing more than a rough headwind.

Then Aria caught something in the corner of her eye.

Charlotte.

The lightning mage had completed her arc. In her hand sat a spear forged entirely from compressed lightning. Massive. Crackling with raw voltage. She hurled it at Aria without a second of hesitation.

CRACKOOM.

The bolt ripped through the air. Dirt blew apart violently along its path. The ground beneath it scorched and brushed black from the sheer energy trailing behind it.

Aria raised her free hand without breaking the beam on Angelica. A sphere of dark energy materialized in her palm. Dense. Unstable. Those ring-like patterns orbiting around it like atoms barely holding the whole thing together.

She launched it at the incoming spear.

The two projectiles collided mid-air. For a few agonizing seconds they grinded against each other. Lightning wrestling dark mana. Neither willing to give.

KABOOOM.

Two opposing affinities at full force. The explosion rattled the entire arena. Dust erupted in all directions. The sound was horrifying enough to make students clamp their hands over their ears. Tremors shook the ground beneath everyone’s feet and the barrier mages outside visibly struggled to hold their walls together.

Before Charlotte could make her next move, Aria had already responded.

Dozens of arrows materialized above her head. Each one pulsing with that same dark energy. Each one aimed directly at Charlotte.

She released them all at once.

FWIP FWIP FWIP FWIP FWIP.

Charlotte planted her feet and raised both hands toward the sky.

KRAKOOM.

A wall of pure lightning crashed down from the heavens themselves. A curtain of raw electricity that incinerated every single arrow before it could touch her.

It looked incredible. Genuinely one of the coolest displays of power I had witnessed in this world.

But then I saw her face through the flickering bolts. That smug, untouchable expression she always wore like a second skin.

My mood dropped on the spot.

’Still want to break that face.’

And Aria must have shared the sentiment. Because in that brief moment where her hatred toward Charlotte consumed her attention, she left her flank completely open.

Angelica was already there.

Her holy sword blazed with golden light. Not a casual swing. This was the real deal. The blade itself was screaming with divine power like she’d been saving every ounce of it for this one strike.

“Watch out!” My shout tore through the arena before my brain could even process it.

Aria spun around.

Too late.

CLANG.

The sword came down with everything Angelica had. But instead of connecting with flesh, it crashed against an invisible barrier wrapped around Aria’s body. The shield shattered on impact, fragments scattering like broken glass. But the holy magic behind the strike still detonated outward.

BOOOM.

Aria was launched backward. She hit the dirt hard, rolled several times, and skidded to a stop.

Angelica’s gaze found mine. She wasn’t hissing. Wasn’t glaring. She just looked at me and I could see it in her expression. She knew exactly what happened.

She knew I saved Aria.

Divine Protection. My best skill. The strongest card in my garbage hand. An invisible shield that wraps around the target on activation.

And now it was gone. Twenty four hour cooldown. Completely unusable for the rest of this fight.

But it was necessary. Aria was strong and she didn’t earn that villainess title just for show. But even she couldn’t afford to eat a fully charged holy strike head on.

So I gave her my best card. Now I had to survive without it.

I focused on Aria and activated my buff spell. The only other tool in my pathetic arsenal. A simple enhancement. Strength, speed, and mana output all boosted by 1.5 times. Thirty second cooldown. Twenty seconds of effect.

The moment the spell landed on her, something shifted.

The pain from the impact vanished from her face entirely. She pushed herself off the ground like the previous attack never happened. Stood tall. Steady.

And her eyes.

Those crimson eyes were drowning in bloodlust. Every drop of it aimed straight at Angelica.

She raised one hand. Dark energy surged and condensed until a sword formed in her grip. Not just any blade. This thing felt ancient. Demonic. Like it had been ripped from the sealed tomb of something that should have never been woken up.

The entire arena fell quiet.

But my mind wasn’t on her weapon. It was stuck on a question that wouldn’t let go.

’How the hell is my buff this effective?’

A 1.5 times multiplier on strength, speed, and mana. That’s all it does. It shouldn’t cause this kind of transformation. The pain disappearing, the killing intent flooding her eyes, the complete shift in her entire presence.

None of that came from a simple stat boost.

Unless what I just amplified was already something monstrous to begin with.

Before I could think further, a notification burned across my vision.

[Player Eren: Synchronization increased]

[Previous: 15%]

[Current: 25%]

Shit.

Another ten percent spike. Just like that.

What did I even do this time? Help my teammate? Use my own class abilities? Exist a little too hard?

At this rate it didn’t matter what I chose to do. Stand still, sync climbs. Fight, sync climbs. Take my dick out and swing it around like a helicopter, the sync would still fucking climb.

’This system is rigged against me.’

Then my skull split open.

Not literally. But the pain was close enough. A violent stab ripping through my brain without any warning.

And a vision poured in.

A girl. No older than five. Chained to some kind of platform. Metal restraints clamped around tiny wrists far too small for them. Her eyes were hollow. Empty. Staring at nothing.

Around her stood dozens of figures. Adults. All watching with cold, clinical expressions.

Like she wasn’t a child.

Like she was an experiment.

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