1 Humble Begininngs

Chapter 1

"The longer you live… The more you realize that reality is just made of pain, suffering and emptiness." - Pythian Scholar, Azazel.

When the punch came Zeon was ready for it.

Years of training and ceaseless combat drills with Father Jervis had implanted basic perceptive acts deep into his mind. His Sol Gold Draconian eyes, only darkened by the onyx black hubris of his Sclera, marked by his Oni heritage, glinted in the white light of the combat stage as he ducked under the boulder sized fists of the Ogre, he was pit against for the selection exams. Transitioning from a duck to a roll he kicked low and managed to catch the ankle of …. What was his name again… Gilgamesh right? Causing the Oaf to slide backward on his front foot but annoyingly he caught himself on his other foot, almost outside the marked lines. Adrenaline thrummed in his veins as the voice of Mikasa reached his ears, yelling obscenities instead of words of encouragement. A small smirk formed on his face at the thought of the Moon Elf Ice Elf Halfling he called a sister glaring at him with her frosty blue azure eyes, glazed with anger at the unfairness of his match. But it did not matter all that mattered was that Father was watching, somewhere but he was watching. The tremor caused by Gilgamesh's charge at him snapped him back to reality as the Ogre approached with murderous rage seething in his smoldering eyes as he swung the famed fists of death attached to his arms the size of Iroko logs. Zeon sidestepped this time to the right and jabbed forward with his left, his strategy was simple, target certain weak points and wear down Gilgamesh. The move was so basic he was not surprised when Gilgamesh swatted it aside with the enough force to knock Zeon to the side, which is of course what happened as Zeon was knocked to the left. He tucked and rolled to the side as he narrowly avoided being stomped to death by the powerful foot of the ogre. Turning his momentum into something valuable he sprang up and executed a spinning heel kick. "Fire Cultivation: Blazing Heel." Upon impact his heel engulfed itself in flames as it burned the side of Gilgamesh's face in a sweeping motion. Not letting up the onslaught, "Fire Cultivation: Fireball Knuckle." Gilgamesh caught himself on his other leg though and brought a hammer strike blow on Zeon "Steel Cultivation: Fist of steel." Sadly, the blow never connected as he was struck in the gut by the right hand of Zeon, which had bright orange flames that swirled around it and licked up on his arm, mostly concentrated at his knuckles. He buckled under the impact and doubled over causing his attack to stop short of its target. The mistake costing him as the Draconian Oni Hybrid capitalized on the blunder and graced the jaw of the ogre with an uppercut from another flame covered fist. The one, two combos had helped him wrap up a lot of matches in the past but not this time. Gilgamesh's just had too much mass which translated to weight that kept him within the marked lines of the stipulated combat area. Instead of wrapping up the match, all it got him were two bruised knuckles and the feeling of futility.

"You're good I'll give you that, but unfortunately I am prophesied Aristos Achaian best of the Ogres." Gilgamesh bragged, the sound of his akin to the smashing of rocks and gravel. An undertone that seemed to make the very earth they stood on quake. "Steel Cultivation: Form of Steel." He roared as he controlled his Potentia from his Chi Center and flowed it through his meridians, his body hardening and turning into steel as he infused his essence into it. "Now you have two choices, give up or die." He growled in a metallic malevolent voice, the simple act of clenching his fists causing sparks. Witnessing all this with a face void of emotion Zeon entered his fighting stance, fists raised and legs akimbo, his face set with a resolve that seemed stronger than steel.

"How about the third option." The Draconian asked as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His mind running miles per second as he considered a way to win the bout now with Gilgamesh a walking automaton. Flames would prove ineffective, physical attacks would only damage him more than it would harm the oaf.

'Crap. This is going to be tough." The Sol gold eyed fighter thought as he prepared for the inevitable pounding of a lifetime. "What third option? Did I offer a third option?" Confusion clouded the harsh handsome metallic features of his face. "The one where I kick your ass and get this over with." Zeon replied cockily as he put his palms together and decided on a course of action. Dodge tank. Nothing but dodge tanking. Flames engulfed his fists the moment he clenched them and entered the Sun Gathering Form of the Path of Roaring Flame.

"Your stupidity amazes me child. Guess not everyone deserves mercy." Gilgamesh replied as he charged forward at a speed that should not have been possible for a mortal his size made from metal.

"Observe, Learn, adapt and Innovate." Zeon repeated in his mind as he moved with a liquid poise and flowed through the miniscule spaces beneath the onslaught of Gilgamesh's raging attacks. To the average onlooker it would it appear as if the young prodigy has simply become intangible as he flowed under the blurred barrage of steel-colored fists but upon closer observation the negative is what was occurring. Zeon was just simply that fast as his entire form blazed with golden yellow flames that seemed to protect him. The once perfect stage of combat was now a smoking mess, with crater's abounding and charred stone.

Unbelievable folks, The Iron prince cannot seem to land an attack on the Dragon blood. It is surreal folks; I have never seen dodge tanking of this caliber in someone so young. – A short knobby gnome who was presumably the announcer yelled as Zeon entered the zone of dodge tanking. He could feel the Azure eyes of his sister staring at his every motion. Unblinking, calculating, and Cold in its evaluation of his skill, a habit she picked up from Father. His strategy was still the same, dodge, dodge and keep dodging till Gilgamesh slips up and gives him the opening to end this stupid and unfair match.

"Stop that. Just man up and die." The annoyed and enraged Ogre bellowed in rage as he stretched a bit more, overextending himself. The Sol Gold eyes of The Draconian Oni hybrid did not miss the slip up and instantly capitalized on it.

Dropping into a crouch and twisting on his ankle and heel, Zeon firmly planted his feet into the scarred and blemished earth as he executed a judo flip on Gilgamesh using Gilgamesh's large mass and momentum. An overly simple maneuver to end the match as he tossed the Iron Prince outside the marked lines or rather what was left of it that represented the boundary. For a moment all that existed in the underground fighting ring was utter silence as the reality of his victory sunk in. Then as if it were pre-ordained the onlooking crowd exploded in a burst of cheers, applause, jeers, and boos. Zeon tuned all of it out except the announcer's voice.

And he has made history once again. The Dragon Blood has put away The Iron prince in a bare-knuckle brawl, no weapons and he still did it. With the odds against him, he still did it. Ladies and gentlemen your victor stand proud. The Dragon Blood!!!! – The voice of the gnome rang out. The atmosphere in the arena turning electric with the rising tempo of the uproar.

His joints ached and creaked as he moved, wobbly knees and unsteady breathing wracked his body as he collapsed to his knees. His body unnaturally hot as steam billowed off him. Never had he dodged tanked that fast before or almost burn out his meridians with the flame aura. The strain of it taking its toll on the weak body of the 12-year-old F ranked Cultivator. Yes, The Dragon Blood is a 12-year-old kid that spends his free time in Combat circuits with his sister. Absurd right?

"Good Match." He croaked to Gilgamesh as the coppery taste of blood irked his taste buds. Who only snarled in return and growled deeply?

"You fight like a pussy. But I guess you won, nonetheless. I cannot say you fought well but victory did not elude you like it did me. So, I may yield. But the next time we meet. I shall have your head regardless of the circumstances we meet under." His gruff voice sounded as he answered. His Metallic skin already reverting to its grey hued complexion. The victor of the match merely nodded as he and his former contender shook hands. The hand of the Mammoth of a mortal Gilgamesh making Zeon's hand to appear comically tiny. A nod of mutual acknowledgment parted them as The Oni Draconian halfling walked towards his alleged teammates.

"Baka, you could've killed yourself. Never make me worry like that again." The Icy tone of Mikasa's voice reached his ears as he walked off the stage and let the geomancers do their job of restoring it. A rather tall elf stood by the stone bleachers, arms crossed as she glared, what he interpreted as lovingly at him. Her bleached bone white hair falling from her head like an icy waterfall that framed her porcelain and perfect features. Frosty Icy Azure eyes, set in a white porcelain face, full lips and matching lashes and brows. A cute nose and teeth that were even more white (If possible) than her hair and skin. As usual the expression on her face was unreadable. Void of emotion as her eyes followed his stifled movements towards her and …. The team.

Next to her stood the remainder of the Mystic Martial arts team of Stonewall Preparatory school of combat. Yup he was a member of this sorry lot called a team but nothing he can do about that. Oddly enough there were no cheers of victory or shouts of praise for winning them the third round of the tournament, absurdly they just clapped him on the back and shifted out of his way as he headed to the bench on unsteady shaky legs.

"Told you showing off will almost get you killed one of these days. Try not to almost burn out your meridians next time." His coach chastised as she scrutinized him with her perpetually scowling face. He grimaced as he sat and waved off the deadly kitsune. Testing, pushing, and breaking his limits was what made him who he was. It is who he is at his very core. The issue that triggered this reaction from his coach stems from his use of a D ranked cultivation technique even at the F ranks and almost burning out his essence pathways during his dodge tanking session. Sadly, rest and reprieve eluded him. Being berated for winning a match may seem improbable but with Stonewall and their delusional students, anything was possible.

"Unfortunately, you're still breathing after your little showoff stunt. Do you have any brains in the canister you call a head?" The white-haired beauty that was sister rounded on him as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Her Icy eyes softening with almost nonexistent concern for him as he numbed part of his pain away using the numbing cold that had familiarized itself with her from a very young age.

"Don't know do I? Not sure maybe it's as empty as your chi spiral don't you think so?" He retorted albeit rather playfully, the comeback still earned him a freeze burn on his shoulder, causing him to wince in pain as his pain flared where her hand rested.

"Keep that up and your icy corpse will probably be found in the sewers of Immernacht. Just saying." The Ice Queen replied in a condescending tone as she smiled coldly at him. Ice swirling captivatingly in her eyes.

"Mhmm. Real menacing." Her brother humored her before warming himself with the flames that raged within him. Already accustomed to their playfully banter. Her face contorted into a pouted as she impishly swatted his bicep, clearing the last dregs of whatever tension that may have existed. Though their good mood was deflated by their asshole of a teammate.

"What's the matter hotshot?" A boy, rather a young dwarf inquired, his tone inflected by malice as he short stocky frame lumbered towards them. Zeon groaned loudly as he approached, his 4"4ft height making the sight look rather comical.

"Don't you have any other use besides being a practice dummy in all of your matches. What a pity, a man fighting like a coward." The dark-skinned dwarf stated. His beady brown eyes and matching black hair complimented his bronze skin rather beautifully save for the perpetual sneer his face was always set in. "You think recuperating from your past shenanigans would think you to take things easier rather the thought of conservative behavior is incomprehensible to your underdeveloped retarded sorry excuse of a brain." He articulated.

"If you have a crush on him just spit it out. We're all mature here, no one will judge you." Another fighter piped up from the back of the crowd. Zeon hated himself for the involuntary sigh of relief that escaped from his lips at the sound of Kira's voice. A tall girl, awfully tall halfling walked towards them, her brown hair artfully done into bouncing curls that had no business in a school for delinquents and martial artists came into view. Her misty gray eyes settling on Zeon for a fleeting moment before zeroing in on Griff.

"I… do… not." Griff stuttered in response, thrown off at the assumption and inadvertently giving the newcomer the upper hand.

"You don't?" Kira asked, her head slightly tilted in feigned confusion as she droned on. "That's funny, you have a tendency of getting all up in his face so much, a burning desire for some make out action only seemed plausible." A mild wave of laughter erupted among their fellow colleagues, causing Griff's cheek to become tinged with red, nostrils flared in seething rage.

"Or could it be that you're jealous of the fact that he's won more matches than you this season or that he has more girls fawning over him and not you and you're four-inch ticket to fame." More laughter this time, even a smirk from Dianna their coach. Thankfully, Griff was on the slow side and not too good at coming up with comebacks when being roasted. Allowing Kira to power onwards.

"If we are to review both your performances you have lost your last three consecutive matches, back-to-back. If you cost us the tournament, living would be a fate worse than death." Though the threat was not even addressed to him it sent chills down the spine of the Draconian half breed. Kira was imposing, he will give her that.

"Screw you Kosha, Zeon knows he has a place in the finals. If he kills himself before then..." Griff tried to retort but was cut off by the Half Giant.

"Then someone else would step up. Stop worry about your boy crush, he will be fine. What is your current track record, 2 -3? That is two wins and three loses. Zeon's been pushing himself since the start of this exam, and his track record is 5 – 0. He'll be fine, you can stop worrying." She shot him down. Another round of snickers rolled across the small audience they had. "Now shoo go play with your boy toys." Kira dismissed him with a wave.

Zeon could not decide whether Griff looked like he was about to explode with seething rage or melt into a puddle and cry there. To save what was left of his face, Baer, his lackey grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him off in the crowd. When he was gone, Kira turned towards him and tossed a white towel at him. His reflexes kicking in as he caught it without thought.

"Dickweed." She muttered under her breath as she sat next to him and Mikasa. Her large frame still attracting attention and making him feel small.

"Aww, one you love and loves you too." Zeon answered, grinning as he wiped his face with the towel.

"Idiot." Kira and Mikasa grumbled simultaneously earning snickers from the recent victor. Before they could exchange words the magically enhanced voice of the Umpire boomed throughout the underground fight venue.

"The next match will begin in five minutes. Contenders get ready." The Umpire called as the geomancers finished repairing the damaged ring after the bout of Gilgamesh and Zeon. The fixture board flashed as it dictated the next match up.

Name of Institution

Stonewall Preparatory Academy

Grand crest School of Combat

Candidate

Mikasa Zhongshan

Alphonse Castellan

Weight

165lbs

245lbs

Height

5'5ft

6'2ft

Race

Half breed

Lycanthrope

Cultivation

Ice

Lightning

"Ugh. Looks like I am up. Try not to kill him till I get back. We'll do that together." Mikasa groaned and hugged Kira briefly. The sight of their brief hug irked Zeon for reasons that eluded him, but he did not say anything.

"Hurry up. You've got a huge slab of man meat waiting for you to handle him." Her moron of a brother quipped, earning green looks from both girls. One of revulsion from Kira and one of irritation from Ms. Zhongshan.

"For the love of the gods and all things sacred please never say the word man meat in my presence ever again." Kira pleaded, netting an eye roll from Zeon. "I'm dead serious. Next time you wouldn't live longer enough to find out what will happen next."

"Okay Goddess." Zeon laughed as he humored her using her stage name. They settled into comfortable silence, memories he had made with her flitting through his mind.

Kira Kosha was arguably his best and only friend at Stonewall Prep. Granted the last six years he spent at the school would have been a lot easier for him if she were not his friend, and he could have probably done without the constant assaults, blows and threats from suitors that presumed her to be his girlfriend, suitors of both sexes. To say Kira is beautiful is an understatement, she is both powerful and intimidating. One of those females that men of great status can consider an equal. At first Zeon was highly suspicious of her desire to be his friend but a mutual dislike for dwarven politics, genuine love for the mystic arts and abhorrence of the social cliques at Stonewall Prep with a shared dream of furthering their education at a prestigious arcane institution saw it to that their friendship. Much to the displeasure of certain individuals and personalities, colleagues who felt that nobility like Ms. Kosha should not be associated with delinquents like Mr. Erobos. Naturally, Zeon was hostile towards her at first because of her status of nobility but in time she became his only friend at Stonewall Prep. Though logically speaking the last six years would have been not as bad as they were if she were not his friend.

Then again, he would've have probably dropped out during those six years if it was not for her. Ugh, the dilemma of childhood.

"How's the pain today?" The half born asked, her imperative voice snapping him out of his reverie. Her piercing gaze set on a match he knew she could see but was not watching. Her head raised high above the sea of bodies that obstructed his viewing experience.

If it had been anyone else besides her, Mikasa or Father Zeon would have lied through his teeth without a second thought or any feeling of remorse like he did whenever coach Dianna asked or any of his instructors asked. Also, when the matron at the infirmary asked out of concern during any of his frequent trips to the infirmary. But not with her, never to her.

"It was acting up during the fight. My Potentia network felt compromised, in other words, hot searing pain whenever I tried to use Potentia." Zeon replied briskly, his tone accentuated by a deep growl from his throat. Much to her credit Kira kept her gaze forward and did not even glance at him as they talked.

" I noticed. Most of the techniques you used were a little too basic." Her voice lacking inflection of emotion as she answered. Not because she did not care about him, this just was not the time or the place. "Asshole. Even with compromised Potentia pathways you still did what you did. Used a technique one whole rank above you." She said incredulously as it dawned on her the amount of pain, he put himself through during his little showoff dodge tanking session when fighting Gilgamesh.

"Actually, it wasn't really a D ranked technique under Flame Cultivation. It is a martial art form under The Path of Roaring Flame: Taunt of the Serpentine Dragon. The strain to use it on my meridians was hell, but with a compromised Potentia pathway network it was ten time worse." The psychotic masochist sitting before her grinned sadistically as he informed Ms. Kosha with a shrug. The simple gesture causing him to wince even as she grimaced, convinced her friend had gone mad.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking it easy? This exam is not worth killing yourself over or damaging your cultivation over. The main assessment hasn't even begun yet." The half giantess advised. Her eyes and tone softening as a rather large palm rested on the knee of the Draconian hybrid.

Amazing stuff folks. – The booming voice of the announcer rolled over them, acting like the harbinger of the ice shards and shrapnel that embedded themselves in the bleachers. A slight tilt of his head spared his left eye from the fate of being skewered by a stray shard of ice as it whizzed past his face. The match was so predictable Zeon was not surprised Mikasa had the upper hand, she always was the better ninja. But he never expected her to try to get his attention by almost impaling his eye with a shard created from her ice potentia. That alone spoke of her level of confidence with his skill level and deny it as he might the thought caused a smile to tug at his lips.

"Since when have I ever been good at taking things easy?" Sarcasm dripping off his words as he replied sardonically. His golden eyes alight with amusement.

"Since you have The Draft coming up in a month you dolt." She berated him. Alas her words fell like clear spring water on a stone, unyielding in his desire not to take heed.

"I'll be fine. I've always been fine, thanks for worrying." His words characterized by the absence of anything bearing resemblance to any existing emotion would have hurt anyone in Kira's place, but she did not become his only friend by listening to any of the words he had ever said.

"I'd say you're the king of not taking things easy. Never have and I doubt you ever will." Kira's remark bounced off him life a bullet ricocheting of tempered bullet proof glass. Disinterest still residing in his eyes as he watched The Ice Queen toy with pathetic opponent she was pit against.

Now Alphonse was certainly no push over, a bright promising F ranked lightning cultivator who having made it this far having proved his worth and strength. The smell of ozone and presence of charred crevices on the stage were evidences of his skill but in comparison to the figurative demon that was his sister, Alphonse paled like a mild candle flame to a roaring inferno. While not as innately powerful as her brother or other cultivators around her age and rank, her C rank rivalling control over her Potentia, natural affinity for the element of ice and snow ❄, lightning-fast reflexes and heightened specs made her a force to be reckoned for anyone would dare to go against her.

Lightning forked across the stage, charring earth and meeting ice as Alphonse struggled to hit the ice ninja that danced around him, wearing him down with hardened ice shurikens. Icy mist swirled captivatingly around her as she danced under the bolt of cackling potentia that would have probably killed her if it hit her at a point-blank range. Ice Cultivation: Hail of Ice Spikes. As if seemingly summoned from a space where they floated till called upon, the air above the stage instantly became saturated with floating ice spikes. By saturated, the area was literally filled with four-foot-long ice spikes that were suspended midair by an unforeseen force. The Sol gold irises of the Draconian did not miss the flash of desperation that flickered in the eyes of Alphonse as he realized just what Ms. Zhongshan had been doing during the moments, he had attempted to electrocute her with currents pushed by lethal voltages. The feeling of sudden dryness of throat as he realized the greatest disadvantage of Lightning Cultivation, the little to no defensive capabilities it bestows to its users that are not as competent as higher cultivators.

"A mana zone styled attack, imitated and executed using Potentia." Kira mumbled, still in slight awe as they beheld the display of Potentia control, a sight not meant to be feasible for an F ranker. "Why am I not surprised? Insanity runs in the family doesn't it?" Kira snickered, young Erobos smiled at the befitting closing of the match. Mikasa exhaled slowly, Frost vapor flowed out of her nostrils, helming the barrage of ice projectiles headed for his critical points. Having no way to dodge all the shards and being surrounded by frozen H20 projectiles it was expected when the umpire called the match off before they would have to deal with another corpse on their hands.

"Fatal blow detected; Match closed under Section 32, Sub section c – 13 Clause 54. Which states, "In the case in which the opponent is neither able to dodge, deflect or defend against a fatal attack that if landed will result in the loss of participant's life. The umpire, referee or match official can declare the attacking participant the victor, provided they terminate the attack before any fatality is recorded."

Try as she might Mikasa would never be able to freeze the ammonia scented liquid that stained the front part of Alphonse gi the moment the volley of icicle spears stopped no lesser than one meter from skewering him. A ripple spread through the Ether as Thanatos grumbled, something about not enough people dying these days.

"To think I'd expected something more from a common dog such as yourself. What a pity." A sigh absconded from her lips, with it the scathing words." Are you always this weak and easy to defeat and outsmart?" Confusion evident on her face, head tilted in puzzlement at the apparent ease with which he was defeated. Her antics only facilitating the indignation that bloomed on the face of her addressee. The Werewolfing outraged at what his canine brain interpreted as blatant outright theft of what he deemed as his rightful victory. Snatched from his grasp via underhanded tactics and corrupt officiating. Predictably a futile and purposeless argument was stupidly initiated by the losing party, demanding that a rematch be called. The despondent match official could not care less about the stupid Lycanthrope or the recently concluded match.

"Disgraceful, dishonoring your Institution by acting that way." Coach Diane snarled in disapproval of the behavior of the lightning cultivator. "On the other hand, saturating the surrounding area with her potentia while still simultaneously maintaining superb and excellent control over the thinly spread potentia. Enough control to manifest the potentia and shape it with something as abstract as a thought." The furry but deadly kitsune analyzed. A cold calculating sneer taking shape on her face. "You guys are really something I'll give you that. Insanity at its finest. Knowing the madman who trained you both I wouldn't expect anything less." Her comment raising a few eyebrows characterized by inquisition.

Somewhere in the crowd of spectators that filled the bleachers of the arena, a gentleman in all black apparels smirked coldly. Their eyes zeroing in on the duo of Mikasa Zhongshan and Zeon Erobos, alight with the possibilities of their evident potential. "Potential candidates identified." The mortal telepathically informed their associates through the neural network they all shared.

"Just take things easy okay. I worry about you." Kira verbalized her worry in a soothing motherly tone. Something Zeon found comforting as she had occasionally played the role of his maternal figure. "Don't push yourself too hard. You'll get in I know you will."

"I'll be fine, a couple of days in the sling and having to limit the amount of strain I put on my Potentia network, but I'll be fine. Thanks, but you don't have to worry about me." The flame cultivator replied, flashing her his beautiful dimple smile as he did so. Inadvertently showing her a glimpse of the black blood that flecked his teeth. The hybrid Ichor of Draconian blood and Infernal Oni blood that ran in his veins. He truly was a beauty to all but himself.

"You can stop worrying about your boyfriend now he'll be fine." The annoyingly scathing voice of Mikasa irked their ears as she butted into their conversation. Groans absconded from their lips, accentuated by eyerolls all round. The elf merely chuckled at their feigned annoyance, it felt good to act their ages at times. Sadly, cultivators of the caliber always end up growing up too fast.

"Oh, please Zenny can't be my boyfriend. He's too hot to have someone like me fawning over him." The half giantess teased sardonically; the sarcasm not missed in her humorous voice. Her use of the incredibly babyish and childish nickname she had for him did not fail to escape his notice, the name bringing back memories they shared.

"And why not? Not like I will have much competition for your hand My Queen in this form of epic manliness, right?" Zeon played along. Taking her hand in his and making a lover boy face. The comical sight of her large hand being held by his prompted eye rolls from Mikasa.

The poker face Kira desperately tried to hold crumbled away at his antics, her goddess like face cracked upon by a smile caused by the image of him staring lovingly at her whilst looking like crap after his match. "Maybe not. But break into the D ranks soon and girls would be all over you in about a year or two."

Both siblings laughed at that, earning disapproving looks and glances from not a few members of the combat team of Stonewall Preparatory School of Combat. If looks could kill the death glare Griff was sending his way would have finished Mr. Erobos off. A middle finger is his direction, which instigated a scowl took care of that. Their shared amusement slowly ebbing away.

"Maybe bulk up a bit. You barely have any weight or mass to meet the fight bracket of this exam. Lightweight." Mikasa added, Kira concurred. Two pairs of eyes racked across his tall and thin angular frame, rather termed as gangly.

"A little extra bulk will be nice but it's not what I'm going for." The resident Draconian clarified.

"Quit copying my style." The Ice Elite quipped. "I know," Kira said, ignoring Mikasa's comment and the silent contest that brewed between the two. "But with looks like yours, some extra bulk in form of muscle and being D rank, you'll be certified hottie." She wiggled her brows and bit her lip as she said the last word for emphasis. Zeon figured she was trying hard not to laugh.

"Forgive me if I do not attach meaning to your assessment of my attractiveness or take it to heart. If I am not mistaken, I'm pretty sure you and Mikasa have stolen more girlfriends at this school than all of our male mates combined." Zeon answered, already testing the stress and strain tolerance of his meridians.

"Never forget that unattractive goblin." Mikasa chided.

"Who're you calling unattractive goblin? I've seen Amazons that make you look like chopped liver." Her brother snapped back playfully.

"Try and get one to date your sorry ass. When you end up in a slave collar and living in sewer tunnels don't expect me to come save you." She retorted. Having grown wary of their banter Kira decided to intervene.

"Will you both cut that out, gods I swear half the time you guys are more trouble than your worth." Her booming voice of the giantess scolded them both, eliciting a low deep growl from their resident kitsune Diane which the deciphered as a warning to keep it down. The fraction of a second for which the misty Grey irises of Ms. Kosha and the golden amber ones of the brown furry kitsune made contact was sufficient to inform her of her upcoming match up. Scheduled to take place after the current ongoing bout.

"Just take things easy okay. It's only one month left." Kira said softly. "The both of you. As annoying as you guys are, I would not want to be in any arcane institution without you lot. "Her eyes full of sympathy even as they glowed beautifully as if illuminated from within. The potentia that flowed as evident as the sympathy in her features. The forlorn way she stared at him sickened him, regardless of his condition pity was not something that he accepted.

Before he could respond the voice of the announcer reverberated throughout the fight arena, over the thrum of combat and roaring cheers that echoed all round them. Announcing the commencement of Kira's match in the next twenty minutes.

"Tch, it looks like I'm up." The half breed informed them both, only to realize Mikasa was off talking with Coach Diane about something, leaving alone with the Flame Elite Mr. Erobos. "You staying to watch."

"I wish I could, but I've got to get back to work." He answered, standing up. His entire body screamed in agony but like always he just shut the pain out. Kira's eyes widened as he mentioned work, her expression morbid at the thought of him heading out in his condition seemed suicidal. Unlike most she knew the nature of his work, an oath of secrecy she swore to never reveal it to anyone.

While most deep dwellers inherited the trades and occupations of their parents, or custodians thereby continuing the family's work; that mostly extended to occupations such as hunting, trading, craftmanship, fletching, mainly vocational work. Zeon and Mikasa did inherit the vocation of their foster father, Jervis but being the foster children of a Darkblade, being operatives for the Mercenary Bloc was inevitable. The truth is Zeon and Mikasa are currently junior mercenaries registered under the Mercenary Bloc directory Svartálfaheim Division.

"I always knew you had a death wish. I just never knew you could be so enthusiastic to run along headfirst into the arms of Shinigami himself." She berated him mordantly. Her words stemming from worry and concern for him, anger at his presumed foolishness. Sounding harsh even though she did not mean it.

"I have to work, got to make sure that this cultivator doesn't have his diploma held because of unpaid dues." He said jovially, flashing her his characteristic dimple smile. The message it passed clear as day; His determination to keep his scholarship.

"Fine…. Just take it easy okay. Promise me that." A sigh absconding from her lips, the futility of pushing the issue dawning on her.

"Don't worry I'll keep your boyfriend safe for you." Mikasa offered lightheartedly. Humorously making light of the predicament. Having returned from her rather enigmatic conversation with the steely kitsune.

Two pair of eyes rolled at her comment, one sol gold the other misty gray. The Sol Gold one noticeably glaring daggers at her. "I'll be fine Kira and I promise I'll take it easy and stay safe." They both knew the words were lies, nothing about being a hired mercenary could be considered safe, he merely said that to fulfil all righteousness.

Kira nodded glumly and bounded off to the stage for her match to avoid being disqualified on the premise of tardiness. A last look from the draconian to her parted them, his quickened steps falling in pace with the nimble footing of the ice elite.

"What's the job this time?" His voice and features void of emotion as he asked the question, the job left him with a hollow feeling that he had grown accustomed to over the years. Firelight illuminating his irises from within.

"Bounty hunting." His sister replied in a mischievous voice, impish mischief dancing in her frosted eyes. A small laugh fleeing her lips at the groan he let out. Bounty hunting meant other bounty hunters, worse other Elites. Things always seemed to get heated with other elites. It never ends well.

Author's Note

Hi There, new author on the block and thank you for giving this story a try. Well… the name's Index don't wear it out. My update time is about as flexible as a rubber band so I guess that's that. If you liked this chapter please don't forget to leave a comment so I'll know what you're thinking and I accept criticism a lot. Like good or bad I'm just looking to improve as a writer. Hope you enjoyed the story so far. Thank you reading... Index out bye.