The energy in the academy arena was electric. The previous round’s dust hadn’t even settled before Dean Frederick stepped forward again, his voice echoing through the hall.

  Dean Frederick: “Alright, students, settle down! The fourth round of the Midterms is about to begin. Will Caitlyn Sanguis and Willow Florence please come to the arena?”

  A murmur swept through the crowd — The famous Sanguis bloodline versus a commoner.

  Aaron leaned over, smirking.

  Aaron: “Alright, cousin. You’re up. Go show her why our blood runs crimson with pride.”

  Caitlyn: (flipping her snowy white hair) “Oh, I intend to. Someone like her doesn’t stand a chance against a Sanguis.”

  Emma: (worried) “Caitlyn, just—pace yourself this time. Last time you overdid it.”

  Caitlyn sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her porcelain face.

  Caitlyn: (annoyed) “Yes, yes, I’ll try not to kill her. You worry too much.”

  Caitlyn stepped into the arena, her heels clicking softly against the stone. Her black and crimson battle dress shimmered under the arena lights, its fine silk stitched with faint runes that pulsed with her heartbeat. Across from her stood Willow — her polar opposite.

  Willow’s dark skin gleamed with sweat under the lights. Her white robe, once elegant, was now stained with soil and sap. She scratched nervously at her long, curly hair, eyes darting around.

  RefBot: “Combatants ready?”

  Caitlyn: “Yes.”

  Willow: (nervous) “Y-Yes…”

  RefBot: “Then—BEGIN!”

  Caitlyn exhaled slowly, and her veins began to glow a deep, luminous crimson. Blood coiled around her fingers, fluid and alive, like serpents eager to strike.

  Caitlyn: “Let’s make this quick.”

  She flicked her wrist, and a blood spike screamed through the air toward Willow.

  Willow: “Wait, I wasn’t ready yet—!”

  With a desperate motion, Willow slammed her palm to the ground. The arena floor shuddered as a massive tree erupted upward, intercepting the attack with a spray of splinters.

  Caitlyn: (frowning) “Tch. How annoying.”

  She rolled her shoulders, conjuring twin blades of condensed blood. They shimmered with liquid reflections, and the tips quivered with heartbeat rhythm.

  Caitlyn: “Let’s see how long your roots last.”

  She charged. Willow squeaked and raised her hands, but before Caitlyn could strike, the tree moved. Its roots tore from the ground, twisting into tendrils that blocked Caitlyn’s blow. The counterattack came fast — a backhand from a branch that sent Caitlyn skidding across the dirt.

  Caitlyn: (seething) “You dare—?!”

  Willow: (bowing slightly to her tree) “Thank you, friend. Let’s end this quickly, okay?”

  Willow pressed her palm to the bark. A green glow pulsed from her hand into the tree’s trunk. The wood creaked, growing thicker, darker—its face twisting into something monstrous.

  Willow: “Go on! Show that mean lady who’s boss!”

  The creature roared, branches swinging like giant clubs. Caitlyn dashed between them, her movements sharp and elegant, leaving streaks of blood-red light in her wake. The air was thick with debris as the tree pummeled the ground in frustration.

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  Caitlyn gathered a sphere of swirling blood in her hand, its core pulsing with arterial rhythm. She ran up one of the tree’s arms, her speed amplified by each beat of her heart. She tossed the orb into its gaping wooden maw, leaping back gracefully.

  Caitlyn: “Bursting Blood!”

  The detonation was thunderous. The tree convulsed, then exploded into a thousand wooden shards that rained across the arena. The audience gasped.

  Caitlyn smirked, brushing splinters from her shoulder.

  Caitlyn: “Pathetic. I’ve destroyed your little pet. Now what?”

  Willow, panting, gave a sheepish smile.

  Willow: “You really are strong, but… you should’ve destroyed the splinters too.”

  Caitlyn’s expression darkened.

  Caitlyn: “What?”

  The ground trembled. All around her, the wooden shards began to twitch — then shoot upward as spikes. Caitlyn leapt and spun, dodging with precision, her dress fluttering like a dark rose in the wind. One spike caught her ankle mid-flip, dragging her down and swinging her toward another.

  Caitlyn slashed it apart with a blood-forged knife, landing hard.

  Caitlyn: (furious) “Enough games! Pulse Overdrive!”

  Her heartbeat accelerated. Crimson light flared beneath her skin as blood pumped at terrifying speed. Her pupils dilated, and the air around her shimmered with heat from the exertion.

  Willow: (eyes narrowing) “Then I guess I’ll stop holding back too. Phytomorph—activate!”

  Her arms rippled and split into vines. Roots coiled around her legs, anchoring her to the ground as her skin took on a bark-like texture.

  Caitlyn blurred forward — her movements a series of afterimages. Her punch landed like thunder, but Willow’s arm morphed into a hollow vine, absorbing the kinetic force and redirecting it harmlessly into the ground.

  Willow retaliated — spinning into a low kick. Her leg hardened into a thick root mid-swing, cracking Caitlyn’s ribs with the impact.

  Caitlyn hissed in pain.

  Caitlyn: “You insolent little weed! You’ve dirtied my dress!”

  Willow: (panting) “Maybe... but I’m not done yet!”

  Willow’s thorn-covered fist slammed into Caitlyn’s side, sending her sliding backward. Blood dripped from Caitlyn’s lips — but her smile widened.

  Caitlyn: “You should’ve stopped while you were ahead.”

  Her heart surged again. Pulse Overdrive—Tripled Output!

  Her speed multiplied, turning her into a crimson blur. Every strike landed with the sound of thunderclaps. Willow barely managed to parry, her vines twisting desperately to deflect the barrage. Each block tore apart more of her body, bark cracking under the strain.

  Still, Willow persisted, morphing into a lattice of vines to slip behind Caitlyn. She struck with a bark-hardened elbow that smashed into Caitlyn’s back. Caitlyn stumbled, clutching her chest — her pulse spiking dangerously high.

  Her breathing faltered. Her vision blurred, edges darkening.

  Caitlyn: (whispering to herself) “No... not yet…”

  Willow advanced, vines wrapping around her arms.

  Willow: “It’s over, Caitlyn. Just surrender—”

  Caitlyn’s lips curled into a faint, eerie smile.

  Caitlyn: “You’ve done well, Willow Florence. You pushed me this far... But now, it’s time for you to bleed.”

  She slammed her fist into her own chest. Blood erupted outward in a swirling vortex.

  The air turned heavy — metallic and suffocating. Scarlet tendrils expanded outward, forming a dome of pulsating blood that enclosed both fighters. The ground within it became slick crimson glass, and the sound of a heartbeat filled the air like a war drum.

  Willow: (terrified) “W-What is this!?”

  Caitlyn: “Crimson Reversal… a forbidden Sanguis art. Within this dome, every heartbeat becomes a weapon. Each pulse echoes through your body… until your blood stops flowing.”

  The dome shimmered. Each beat sent waves of sonic vibration that disrupted Willow’s form — her vines trembling, her transformations faltering. The blood lattice mirrored her own movements, copying her vine patterns in real-time, confusing her instincts.

  Willow gasped as red threads pierced the ground, draining nutrients from her roots.

  Willow: “No… stop…!”

  Caitlyn’s eyes glowed like twin rubies.

  Caitlyn: “Your life’s rhythm is beautiful, Willow. It would be a shame to waste it.”

  She stepped closer, the blood around her rippling like a living sea.

  Willow tried one last morph — but the dome’s mimicry wrapped around her, binding and reversing it. Her bark turned gray, brittle.

  Caitlyn pressed her palm against Willow’s chest.

  Caitlyn: “Everyone has a pulse… and I just stopped yours.”

  A single heartbeat echoed. Then silence.

  Willow’s body slumped to the ground, reverting to human form. The dome melted into a fine crimson mist.

  Caitlyn staggered, clutching her chest. Her overclocked heart thrashed against her ribs. She dropped to one knee, pale and trembling.

  Caitlyn: (weakly) “Even I’ll admit... you weren’t bad. But victory was... always mine.”

  RefBot: “Combatant Willow Florence is unable to continue. The winner—Caitlyn Sanguis!”

  The audience erupted in applause and gasps alike. Blood magic always terrified them, even when wielded with elegance.

  Caitlyn took one step forward—and collapsed.

  Aaron was already there, catching her before she hit the ground.

  Aaron: (smiling softly) “You didn’t listen again, did you? But hey… at least you won.”

  Caitlyn, barely conscious, gave a faint smirk.

  Caitlyn: “Winning… is the only pulse that matters…”

  And then, she fainted in his arms.

  End Chapter