Chapter 249: Ranking Battles!

With that short announcement finished, classes resumed and everything felt normal for the day.

Lectures returned to their usual cadence, mana theory adjusted slightly to account for recent anomalies that were occurring with regards to the Abyss.

Combat simulations made harsher under the excuse of “curriculum updates,” professors far less tolerant of mistakes. Everyone knew exactly why this was happening. With the Abyss growing more active, the school had to push students as hard as possible to improve their strength.

Albedo , however, with his strength, moved through it all with an ease that bordered on casual. He attended class and trained constantly.

He ate, slept, and sparred when he felt like it.

And yet, beneath that calm exterior, his awareness never dulled. His senses skimmed the Academy like fingertips across still water, feeling every ripple of power, every unfamiliar presence threading itself into the institution’s ancient wards.

With all of this happening, he thought about the UpperClassmen Ranking Battles that were happening recently while sitting beneath one of the floating arches near the western training spires, late afternoon sun washing the white stone in amber light.

Elara was with him, and she had a notebook open on her lap, stylus hovering absently above the page as she stared off toward the dueling grounds while Morgana sat beside her, posture relaxed, long black hair spilling over her shoulder like liquid shadow. Her eyes were half-lidded, but Albedo knew better than to mistake that for disinterest.

“I heard three fourth-years lost their rank yesterday,” Elara said quietly.

Albedo leaned back against the stone railing. “To transfers?”

“Two of them,” Elara nodded. “One wasn’t even close. Apparently the challenger didn’t use a weapon, just pure magic,”

Morgana’s lips curved faintly. “Bold.”

“Or arrogant,” Elara said.

“Those two things overlap,” Albedo replied mildly.

There was a pause. Then Morgana spoke again, voice soft but precise.

“The Upperclassmen Ranking Battles are public today.”

Elara blinked. “Already?”

“They’re accelerating everything,” Morgana continued. “If the Academy wants to establish a new hierarchy, it needs visible examples.”

Albedo hummed thoughtfully. “Translation: they want people scared.”

“Motivated,” Morgana corrected.

He smirked. “Same thing.”

Elara closed her notebook. “We should go.”

Albedo glanced at her. “You want to?”

She nodded. “If the world’s shifting, I want to see where the cracks are forming.”

Morgana rose smoothly to her feet. “Then let’s observe.”

Albedo pushed off the railing. “Lead the way.”

The Upperclassmen Ranking Arena dwarfed the student dueling rings.

It wasn’t a single platform, but a vast terraced coliseum carved into the Academy’s inner plateau, floating rings of reinforced stone rotating slowly around a central combat field. Wards layered atop wards shimmered faintly, calibrated to absorb absurd levels of force.

The stands were packed.

Students from every year group filled the tiers, some watching with excitement, others with tight expressions and clenched hands. Professors hovered along the perimeter, their attention sharp, ready to intervene if something went catastrophically wrong.

Albedo felt a competitive pressure immediately as he entered the environment.

Mana signatures overlapped like storm fronts, some disciplined and honed through years of structured growth, others raw and alien, humming with unfamiliar philosophies.

“Wow,” Elara murmured, eyes shining faintly as her Battle Map Gift automatically began parsing the environment. “There are so many unstable mana patterns.”

“New growth tends to be volatile,” Morgana said, “The Academy’s getting what they wanted here for sure,”

Albedo scanned the central field, spotting a fight that was already underway.

A fifth-year stood near the center of the arena, breathing hard.

His uniform bore the sigil of an established imperial house, his stance flawless, mana cycling cleanly through reinforced meridians. He was strong, but he was losing.

Opposite him stood a tall girl with ash-gray hair tied in a loose knot, dressed not in Academy colors but in layered travel leathers etched with subtle runes. She held no visible weapon.

She didn’t need one.

The fifth-year launched forward, blade flashing, mana roaring as he invoked a high-tier enhancement art. The arena floor cracked under the force of his charge.

The girl stepped aside precisely, at a speed that would make even Miranda breathless, and caught his wrist mid swing.

There was a sound like compressed air detonating. Mana folded inward. The fifth-year hit the barrier hard enough to make the wards flare violently, and silence followed.

Then the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

“Victor: Transfer Candidate, Ashen Lionsgate. Rank Claim Successful.”

“That was definitely impressive,” Elara said.

Morgana nodded. “Her mana control is absurdly refined.”

Albedo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And she didn’t reveal her full output.”

Elara glanced at him. “You think she was holding back?”

“I know she was,” Albedo replied calmly.

They watched as match after match unfolded. A fourth-year ranked eighth lost to a silent boy whose shadow moved independently of his body using a special technique.

A third-year powerhouse known for brute force dominance was dismantled by a slender woman wielding spatial compression arts that folded distance into meaningless abstractions.

Each loss sent a ripple through the stands. Some students watched in awe and others with clenched teeth, knowing they would be next.

Elara hugged her notebook to her chest. “This is… intense.”

Morgana remained composed, eyes sharp. “It’s necessary.”

Albedo tilted his head slightly. “You don’t look concerned.”

Morgana finally glanced at him, obsidian eyes gleaming faintly. “Should I be?”

He chuckled. “Fair.”

They shifted positions slightly as a familiar presence approached.

“Didn’t think you’d miss this.”

Jax, an UpperClassmen they had met in the past

The tall, broad-shouldered upperclassman strode up beside them, hands in his pockets, expression relaxed despite the chaos unfolding below. His mana was dense, coiled, unmistakably stable.

Ranked Top 5 in his year.

Still was, for now.

He watched another challenger win decisively, then snorted. “Some of these transfers are monsters.”

Elara glanced at him. “You don’t sound worried.”

Jax shrugged. “Why would I be?”

Morgana’s lips curved faintly. “Exactly.”

Albedo smiled. “Confidence, or certainty?”

Jax glanced sideways at him. “Both.”

The arena roared again as another upset was declared.

Jax cracked his neck lazily. “Let them shake the ladder. Makes it easier to see who actually belongs at the top.”

Morgana’s aura stirred subtly, dark mana coiling like a sleeping serpent. “If any of them try to climb my rung,” she said softly, “they’ll regret it.”

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