Aftermath

The announcer stepped forward, ready to break the foreboding silence.

"I regret to inform you that we don't have a winner just yet," he announced, his voice carrying a tone of disappointment that matched the crowd's mood. The news, however, did little to surprise the audience.

"The fighter, Omni Lord, is currently under suspicion of cheating. We all witnessed the powerful attack that ended the battle, and it has raised some serious concerns."

A hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the announcer, their minds wandering somewhere else. The tension, however, was momentarily eased as the announcer continued, his tone shifting to something more conciliatory.

"Rest assured, there will be full refunds for those who placed bets on this match. We must obtain conclusive results before any decisions are made."

A collective sigh of relief spread across the arena. The announcer paused as a soft chime signaled an incoming message on his comm. His expression remained impassive as he read it, and then he lifted his gaze back to the crowd.

"The arena will now close for the evening. We ask that everyone return to their respective dormitories."

It didn't take long for the crowd to disperse. Their departure was orderly, but many still discussed the match and its implications.

As the last of the spectators vanished through the exits, a group of fourth years, the ones tasked with the arena's administration, made their way to the pit.

One of them, a boy with fair skin and a striking green ponytail, pulled out a handheld device. The device whirred softly as he activated it, sweeping it across the pit where Kyle had fallen.

The glow from the screen illuminated his focused expression, as he scanned the area, pausing briefly over Kyle's unconscious form.

After a few moments, he stood. He turned to his peers, who were waiting anxiously for his assessment.

"There's no trace of magic here," he stated firmly, his voice. "The boy has used a magic spell. He's most likely a first-year."

"Year 1?!" another boy blurted out, his voice tinged with shock. The notion of a first-year possessing such power was unbelievable.

One of the more senior students, a tall figure with sharp, narrow eyes, stepped forward. He surveyed the pit, he had paid attention during the the match and had to confirm his idea.

"He didn't use magic... that was his sword intent."

"Sword intent. Impossible!" murmurs spread through the group, their doubts voiced in hushed tones.

"Quiet!" the boy with the device snapped, his voice laced with authority. The group immediately fell silent, focusing all attention on him. "We're all forgetting something here. A girl was obliterated in the arena we were tasked to handle!"

"So, what's the next step? Am I to heal him?" a girl from the group inquired.

"No," the boy with the device replied, his tone firm. "I'll inform Michael about what had happened here." The casual way he mentioned the Dean's name, spoke a lot about his standing within the academy. "We'll keep the boy in the infirmary and report to him."

The group nodded in agreement before they instructed some helpers to take Kyle to the infirmary.

***

Michael sat in his office behind a grand desk. The room he stayed in was large, too large to be called an office. Shelves filled with neatly organized books, lined the walls in order, creating an academic atmosphere in the room.

The large windows in the office were wide open, giving the office a warm atmosphere.

*Knock, Knock*

"Come in," Michael commanded, his voice calm yet authoritative. He didn't need to guess who was at the door; he had already sensed the visitor.

The door swung open to reveal Jordan, the fourth-year student who had earlier scanned the arena pit.

He entered calmly, despite what had earlier transpired. His black and gold uniform of an Elite 10 fit him perfectly, a symbol of his elevated status among the academy's best.

"Jordan," Michael greeted him. "I assume you have something important to report."

"Yes sir," Jordan replied. "There was an incident in the arena today."

Michael leaned forward, his interest immediately piqued. The underground arena which he commissioned had been doing well so far. News from there always carried weight. "Go on."

"There was a physical match between two new fighters," Jordan began. "One of them, who goes by the alias Omni Lord, had made his debut a few days ago. The other was fighting her first match today."

Michael's eyes narrowed slightly as Jordan continued.

"The fighter, Omni Lord, is suspected of displaying sword intent during the match. We used a magic detection device on him afterward and found no traces of spell usage. This can only mean one thing..."

"He's a Year 1!" Michael interjected, his voice betraying his surprise.

"Yes, he is," Jordan confirmed, though his expression remained grave, lacking any sense of triumph at the discovery.

Michael studied Jordan for a moment, sensing there was more to the story. "There's more to this, ain't there?"

Jordan took in a breath. "The sword intent... it was overwhelmingly strong. So strong that it obliterated his opponent in a single strike."

A heavy silence filled the room as Michael absorbed this revelation. This wasn't the first student to have died in the academy, but, not this way.

After a moment, Michael broke the silence, his voice filled with concern. "The opponent... What was her name?"

"Elysia," Jordan replied quietly.

Michael exhaled, running a hand through his face. "Do we have any records of her?"

"No," Jordan said, shaking his head. "We don't have the records of the contestants."

*Bang*

Michael slammed his hand down on the desk, the sound reverberating through the room. The sturdy desk doing well to bear the brunt of his frustration.

"We were careless!" he exclaimed, his tone filled with anger. "From now on, I want all combatants in the arena fully documented. Their real names, years, and IDs must be on file."

"Understood, sir," Jordan affirmed, his voice steady despite the tense atmosphere.

Michael sighed, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. He shifted his focus to the next pressing matter. "What about the boy, Omni Lord? Where is he now? I want to meet him."

"Well..." Jordan began recounting the events leading up to the incident, including Kyle's arena record and how he had been utterly defeated by Elysia before the final blow.

Michael's expression softened before waving his hands to dismiss the student. "It's unfortunate we've lost such a talent. When he wakes up, send him to my office."

"Yes sir," Jordan replied, bowing slightly before turning to leave.

As Jordan exited, the room fell silent once more, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts. The Dean leaned back in his chair, staring through the window.

"Sword intent... Year 1," Michael mused aloud with a bittersweet smile. "Dan will be pleased."