Chapter 141: The Dead Eyes vs The Shadow Wielder

After explaining what he knew about the dead eyes to Steil , Olmo decided it was time for the next fight.

His curiosity had been lingering—he had long wondered how strong Jelo truly was, and watching him clash with Mark had finally revealed the extent of his power.

Olmo was impressed. No… more than impressed. He saw potential—great potential—in Jelo.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected Jelo to be this powerful. At such a young age, Jelo had already mastered fire abilities, and even more intriguing was the fact that he possessed a unique power—one that seemed capable of evolving, perhaps even allowing him to acquire more abilities over time. That alone made him dangerous.

As Olmo reflected, another name surfaced in his mind—Ken.

He knew Ken was strong. That much was obvious. But strength alone wasn’t enough; Olmo wanted to see its limits. He wanted to understand just how far Ken could go. So, despite Mark having just finished his battle with Jelo, Olmo made his decision.

Mark would face Ken next.

After what felt like an eternity, OLMO—finally turned to face the students. His voice cut through the murmurs as he announced the next pair to fight.

“Mark and Ken.”

The moment the names left his mouth, shock rippled through the crowd.

Didn’t Mark just finish fighting?

Wasn’t he supposed to be marked down?

Why wasn’t Ken paired with someone else from Class Two?

Whispers spread through the air like wildfire, confusion thickening the atmosphere.

What is he planning? Mira thought. Why Mark again? What are his motives?

Ken, on the other hand, was completely caught off guard. He had wanted to face Mark from the start, but when Jelo had been chosen to fight him instead, he had let the idea go. He’d accepted it… or so he thought. Now, it seemed luck had finally smiled on him.

Excitement surged through his veins.

Despite Mark having just fought Jelo, Ken was certain of one thing—Mark hadn’t expended much energy. The battle, while intense in moments, hadn’t truly pushed him. It had been slightly one-sided. Jelo had fought well, yes, but Mark never looked strained.

He’s not tired, Ken concluded. Not even close.

That didn’t discourage him.

Ken knew the truth. After watching Mark fight Jelo, it was clear—even Jello was already far above his league. Losing was the most likely outcome. But that didn’t matter.

All Ken wanted was this fight.

To give everything he had.

To prove—to himself and everyone watching—that he was strong too.

He stepped forward, walking toward the center where Mark already stood. As both fighters took their positions, Jelo raised his voice, eyes sharp with excitement.

“Begin!”

Ken launched a spear of solidified shadow at Mark’s chest.

Mark’s eyes flashed **dull silver**—the Dead Eyes activating. The spear seemed to slow in his enhanced perception. He tilted his head slightly, letting it whistle past his ear.

“Impressive reaction time,” Ken said, his shadow pooling beneath him like liquid darkness. “But let’s see how you handle this!”

He sent five tendrils of shadow whipping toward Mark from different angles—high, low, from the sides. Mark’s silver eyes tracked each one, his body moving with inhuman agility. He ducked under one, sidestepped another, caught the third on his forearm and deflected it. The fourth and fifth he avoided with a spinning leap that put distance between them.

Ken grinned. “You’re fast. Good.”

He slammed his palms down. His shadow erupted outward, forming a massive wall that rushed toward Mark like a tidal wave of darkness.

Mark’s Dead Eyes analyzed the attack instantly. He sprinted forward at blinding speed, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to spot a gap forming in the shadow wall’s structure. He slipped through it just before it solidified, emerging on Ken’s side.

“What?!” Ken spun, raising a shield of condensed shadow just as Mark’s fist came toward him.

The punch connected with the shield—and stopped. The shadow absorbed the impact, rippling but holding firm.

“Not bad,” Mark admitted, leaping back. His silver eyes gleamed.

Ken pressed his advantage, wrapping shadow around his arms and legs like armor. “You can see attacks coming, but can you handle this?” He launched himself forward in a brutal assault—a combination of punches and kicks, each one reinforced with hardened shadow.

Mark’s eyes tracked every movement. Left hook—duck. Right straight—weave. Knee strike—block with forearm. Spinning kick—slide under. His enhanced reflexes made him appear almost prescient, avoiding or deflecting each blow by the narrowest of margins.

But Ken was relentless. He shaped his shadow into spikes extending from his knuckles, forcing Mark to keep greater distance. He created shadow tendrils that attacked from blind spots while he pressed forward with direct strikes.

Mark backflipped away, his silver eyes never leaving Ken. “You’ve improved since last time.”

“I’ve been training specifically for you!” Ken roared. His shadow exploded outward in all directions, forming dozens of spears that hung in the air around Mark like a cage. “Dodge this!”

All the spears launched simultaneously from every angle.

Mark’s Dead Eyes processed everything in an instant. His body became a blur—twisting, spinning, contorting through the impossibly small gaps between the shadow spears. One grazed his shoulder. Another passed so close to his face that he felt the cold. But he emerged from the barrage untouched otherwise, landing in a crouch.

Ken was breathing hard now. “Why… won’t you… go down?!”

He formed his shadow into a massive hammer and brought it down where Mark stood.

Mark rolled aside, the hammer cratering the ground. Dust and debris exploded outward. He used the cover to close distance again, his silver eyes cutting through the obscurement.

Ken sensed him coming and created a dome of shadow around himself—a defensive sphere.

Mark’s fist struck it. The shadow held.

“You can’t break through!” Ken shouted from inside. “Your speed means nothing if you can’t—”

Mark’s eyes narrowed. The silver in them seemed to intensify. He stared directly at the shadow dome, at Ken’s silhouette visible within.

Ken’s confident expression faltered. Something felt wrong. His shadow dome began to waver, and suddenly—

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