Chapter 83 — WHEN THE RULES BURN
The silence that followed the Vermillion Dean’s pause was heavy.
The kind that meant everyone in the arena understood, instinctively, that what came next would not be small. Not cosmetic. Not a simple extension of Stage Three.
One which made everyone look at her and only her. All the Arena, participants and spectators only focused on what she was going to reveal.
Ling Yifan stood straight, hands relaxed at his sides, eyes fixed forward. Long Hao’s posture was casual, but his attention was absolute. Around them, captains from other academies shifted subtly, some with anticipation, others with unease.
The Vermillion Phoenix Academy dean smiled.
It was a decisive one.
"As you already know," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly to every corner of the arena, "Stage Three was always designed to have a second part."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Originally," she continued, "this second part was meant to be... structured."
The Dragon Turtle Academy dean snorted loudly from his position in the air. "BOOOORING."
The Vermillion dean ignored him with practiced elegance.
"A captain’s bracket," she said, raising one finger. "Where the remaining team leaders would face each other."
Another finger rose.
"And a secondary bracket, where each academy would send four members. Sixteen competitors. A standard elimination tournament."
Some students nodded. This was familiar. Predictable. Safe.
Then the Vermillion dean’s smile widened just a little.
"But," she said, "plans change."
The Azure Dragon Academy dean closed his eyes and let out a sigh as if he knew what was gonna happen.
"...Of course they do." he said with a long face and in a sarcastic tone.
The Vermillion dean turned her head slightly, amused. "I recently visited Dragon Turtle Academy."
The Dragon Turtle dean’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
"HAHA! SEE? SHE’S LEARNING FROM ME!"
The Azure Dragon dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you all breaking the rules like they’re optional suggestions." He exhaled.
The Vermillion dean raised a hand, and the arena quieted again.
"At Dragon Turtle Academy," she said, "I was reminded of something important."
She looked down at the gathered students.
"Rules are meant to test fairness."
A pause.
"And occasionally," she continued, "they are meant to be burned."
The crowd erupted.
"What?"
"Did she say—"
"Burned?!"
Ling Yifan felt the shift immediately. His instincts screamed.
Long Hao’s lips curved faintly.
The Vermillion dean spread her arms wide.
"Therefore," she announced, "Stage Three, Part Two will no longer follow a dual-bracket system."
Gasps rippled through the arena.
"There will be no captain-only bracket."
Shock.
"There will be no team-based secondary bracket."
Confusion.
Instead—
She let the moment stretch.
"We will conduct a complete battle royale."
The arena exploded.
A roar surged from the stands, chaotic and electric.
"How many?"
"All at once?"
"Is she serious?!"
The Vermillion dean’s voice cut through it all.
"Twenty participants," she said clearly. "Selected from the winning academies."
She looked directly at the teams.
"This battle will not be team-oriented."
The words landed like a hammer.
"There will be no alliances enforced."
A pause.
"And no protection for teammates."
The meaning sank in.
"Even those from your own academy," she finished calmly, "are your enemies."
For a heartbeat—
No one spoke.
Then the reaction came.
Students stared at one another.
Teammates exchanged looks that were half laughter, half disbelief.
Chen Wulian’s mouth fell open. "Wait. WAIT. You’re saying—"
Zhao Ming grabbed his arm. "You have to fight us."
Chen’s eyes darted. "...I don’t like this anymore."
Qin Shuo pushed his glasses up slowly. "This invalidates... almost every cooperative strategy."
Jin Ruolan grinned. "Good."
Ouyang Xue’er exhaled through her nose, eyes sharpening. "So this is the kind of stage Vermillion likes."
Chen swallowed. "I trained to fight monsters, not betrayal."
Wang Xie tilted his head thoughtfully. "Technically, we were always potential enemies."
"That is not comforting," Chen snapped.
Qin nodded once, calm but serious. "From this point on, hesitation will be punished."
Ouyang glanced at the arena floor, then back at her teammates. "Guess we find out who we really are."
Ouyang Xue’er exhaled, eyes sharp. "This just got honest."
High above the arena, standing along the upper covering that arched over the battlefield rather than the stands, Long Hao’s family watched in stunned silence.
His little sister gripped the railing, eyes shining. "Brother is going to defeat everyone?"
His mother’s hand tightened unconsciously. "This... this is so worrying."
His father said nothing, gaze fixed downward, unreadable.
Beside them, a tall, elderly man stood straight-backed, hands folded behind him, expression composed.
Standing on the hill of the arena where only a select few could detect him.
Ling Yifan’s former butler.
His sharp eyes followed the captains below.
"...So," the butler murmured, more to himself than anyone else, "this is the stage."
He smiled faintly.
"This is where you prove yourself, young master."
Then, he simply vanished into the air, as if he was never there to begin with.
Back in the arena, the Vermillion dean let the chaos breathe before raising her hand once more.
"The battle will continue until only one remains standing," she said. "That individual will be declared the victor of Stage Three."
A single winner.
No team glory.
No shared victory.
The implications were enormous.
Ling Yifan felt his pulse steady instead of spike.
This wasn’t politics.
This wasn’t inheritance.
This was simple.
Strength. Resolve. Choice.
He turned his head slightly.
Long Hao was already looking at him.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the noise of the arena faded.
Ling Yifan’s lips curved into the faintest smile. "Looks like there’s nowhere to hide."
Long Hao shrugged lightly. "I was getting bored."
Chen looked between them. "...Why do I feel like I’m about to die as collateral."
Zhao Ming patted his shoulder. "Think positive. You’ll die memorably."
The Vermillion dean’s voice echoed one last time.
"Prepare yourselves," she said. "The battlefield will open soon."
The crowd roared again, louder than before.
Ling Yifan took a slow breath.
Long Hao’s eyes gleamed.
"...So," Ling Yifan said quietly, "it’s finally time for us to settle the score."
Long Hao nodded.
"The one who wins," he replied calmly, "takes it all."
They turned back toward the arena.
Not as teammates.
Not as rivals.
But as inevitabilities moving toward the same point.
[Chapter ENDS]