Rise Of The Lesser-Blood

Thomas stepped out onto the elevated stone walkway, his boots sinking into the cool sand of the Arena. The thousands of spectator benches climbing the vaulted stone walls were packed to absolute capacity, a roaring wall of sound vibrating through the dark sand.

Thomas walked calmly toward his designated corner, his mask perfectly smooth as glass.

Across the wide-open arena floor, the heavy iron gates of the Class 1-B entrance creaked open. Stepping onto the battlefield was Victor. The Grade A Trap Assassin carried himself with a terrifying, predator-like fluidity that instantly reminded Thomas of Raymond, but his aura was significantly heavier and far more calculating. His sleek, dark leather uniform was completely lined with reinforced mesh, and his long fingers twitched rhythmically against his thighs, ready to unleash a completely unique array of hidden, law-defying snares.

Standing in his corner, Thomas slowly raised his head, his dark eyes meticulously scanning the massive stadium. First, his gaze swept across the stone pillars near the spectator entrances, looking for the familiar, lazy posture of the mysterious senior girl who had spent the previous week lounging around the archives. But she was nowhere to be seen. Her usual spot by the checkpoint pillar was completely empty, her presence entirely missing.

Thomas’s eyes continued their sweeping scan, shifting up toward the grand, elevated noble platform far above the arena floor.

His gaze locked onto Julian, who sat elegantly in his premium leather seat, his silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the cold morning sun. But Julian wasn’t sitting alone today. Right next to the Grade S national treasure was a stunning, bright-eyed young lady who looked to be a senior. She carried an incredibly sharp, aristocratic elegance, her long, vibrant violet hair dancing gracefully in the high-altitude wind.

As Thomas’s eyes made brief eye contact with the premium booth, the bright-eyed young lady with the violet hair slowly tilted her head. A playful, incredibly sharp smirk broke across her beautiful features, and she deliberately winked right down at him.

Thomas kept his expression perfectly neutral, breaking eye contact without a single flicker of emotion, but he carefully filed her appearance away in his mind. He didn’t know who she was, but her placement next to Julian meant she was another high-level piece on the academy’s chessboard.

He lowered his gaze, locking his eyes onto Victor across the sand. The Trap Assassin’s face twisted into a cold, merciless scowl, his Grade A mana beginning to hum beneath his leather uniform like a ticking bomb.

”You broke my cousin’s armor, lesser,” Victor said, his voice dropping into a low, echoing hiss that cut through the whistling wind. ”But an assassin doesn’t make the same mistake twice. I don’t care who is watching from above. Before you even take three steps across this sand, my grid will bleed you dry.”

Thomas stood perfectly still in his corner, his hands resting loosely at his sides.

On an elevated marble platform far above the arena sands, Instructor Cross stood with his scarred face completely expressionless. He raised the heavy starting flag high into the freezing high-altitude air. He didn’t offer a single word of warning. His arm slashed downward, dropping the dark fabric with a sharp, clean snap.

”Begin!” Cross’s magically amplified voice boomed across the summit.

The moment the flag left the proctor’s fingers, the match officially ignited. Victor didn’t launch a frontal dash like Raymond, nor did he let out a loud roar. He simply twisted his wrists in a tight, near-invisible motion. His long fingers manipulated hidden metallic spools concealed inside his mesh-lined sleeves, weaving a complex, silent network of mana across the floor.

Thomas kept his expression smooth as glass, completely ignoring the deafening roar of the High-blood spectators in the stands. He steeled his resolve and deliberately took a heavy, solid step forward directly into the center of the arena floor.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The moment his boot shifted the black grains, the sand violently erupted. A complex web of microscopic, razor-sharp mana tripwires violently coiled upward from the earth, wrapping around his ankles and calves like metallic vines. The invisible lines dug into his uniform, pulsing with a volatile, blood-red assassin energy that immediately sought to slice through his reinforced muscle fibers and lock him in place.

Thomas didn’t pull back. He stood his ground inside the binding trap, his right eye subtly tingling beneath his eyelids as his hidden system began the slow, agonizing process of mapping the mechanical trauma.High above the arena sands, sitting in the premium noble booth far separated from the common tiers, the bright-eyed young lady with the long, vibrant violet hair leaned forward. Her sharp, aristocratic features twisted into a look of intense, genuine amusement as she watched Thomas walk directly into the snare. She turned her head slightly, her long violet strands dancing in the high-altitude wind as she leaned in toward the Grade S national treasure sitting next to her.

”He walked straight into a trap without even trying to scan the floor, Julian,” she whispered, her beautiful voice carrying a sharp, rhythmic melody that cut through the thunderous noise of the stadium crowd. ”Your little lesser anomaly is either completely brain-dead, or he’s playing a game that we all haven’t figured out.”

Julian didn’t turn his head to answer her. He remained perfectly rigid in his seat, his silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the harsh morning light as his striking ebony eyes bored down into the sand, waiting to see exactly how lesser’s hidden power would handle a calculated execution.

Down on the field, the razor wires dug deeper. The blood-red mana began to saw into Thomas’s calves, but his previously adapted, reinforced bone and chitinous tissue held the line, preventing the metal from severing his tendons immediately. Still, the binding force was absolute.

He couldn’t move his legs.

Victor let out a cold, low hiss from across the ring, his fingers flicking like a puppeteer’s. ”You thought you could just walk up to me like you did with Marcus? You are a fool, lesser-blood. I did some research about you and I am pretty sure that you have nothing in your arsenal that can hurt me.”

Deep inside Thomas’s mind, the system interface flared to life.

[ COMPONENT EXPOSURE DETECTED: TRAP MECHANIC ARCHITECTURE ]

* Damage Vector: Tensile Binding / Hidden Circuit Snares

* Source: Victor (Grade A Trap Assassin)

[ INITIATING REVERSE-ENGINEERING PROTOCOL ]

* Current Action: Mapping mana tripwire frequency and knot variables...

* Progress: 5%

* Requirement: Maintain direct exposure to enemy trap architecture to complete replication.

Thomas felt the sharp, stinging heat of the wires trying to slice his skin, but a dark, unshakeable calm settled over his face. He didn’t panic. He subtly tightened the muscles in his jaw, keeping his eyes locked onto Victor as the system began to trace the hidden blue-prints of the assassin’s talent.

Victor didn’t wait for him to escape. With a cruel, swift flick of his left hand, he pulled a hidden chord buried beneath the sand.

Click.

A muffled mechanical click echoed right beneath Thomas’s trapped feet. The sand suddenly shifted away, revealing a circular metallic plate etched with glowing, volatile runes. It was a pressure-plate trigger, and the trap was already primed to blow.