Chapter 90 — Mafia’s Dominance

[Fifteen minutes earlier - Central Training Grounds]

The central training grounds were packed with students.

Word had spread like wildfire through the first-year forums that something big was about to happen.

Multiple ranking challenge matches being issued simultaneously, all targeting Noble students in the top fifty rankings.

Hundreds of students had gathered to watch, forming a massive crowd around the various combat rings that had been set up across the grounds.

The atmosphere was electric with anticipation and tension.

"Did you hear? The Mafia is challenging a bunch of Nobles all at once."

"Are they insane? Those Nobles have way better resources and training! Not everyone is like Damian, you know!"

"I heard most of them already recovered from yesterday using expensive healing potions. Only the SS-rank talents are still injured."

"This is going to be a massacre. The Mafia students are going to get destroyed."

Among the crowd, several former Mafia members stood watching with complicated expressions.

They’d left when things got difficult, when Damian disappeared and the pressure from Nobles became too much to handle.

Now they were about to watch the people who’d stayed loyal potentially get humiliated in front of everyone.

"Should we have stayed? Damian is very strong, we all saw what happened yesterday."

One of them muttered quietly.

"Don’t be stupid. Look at who they’re fighting. These are top-ranked Nobles with family backing and expensive training. There’s no way–"

"The matches are starting!"

The crowd’s attention snapped to the combat rings as the challenged students began entering.

****

Ring One: Edrin Kael vs Simon Diserion

Simon stood in his combat ring with complete confidence, his spiky black hair perfectly styled despite the early hour. His injuries from yesterday had been completely healed using his family’s expensive recovery potions.

He cracked his knuckles, grey Aura already flickering around his body.

"Edrin Kael, right? The smart one from Section A."

Simon’s voice carried casual dismissal.

"I’ve been training with my family’s instructors since I was seven years old. This won’t take long."

Edrin stepped into the ring calmly, adjusting his glasses with one hand while his other rested on the twin short swords at his sides.

"I appreciate the confidence. Makes what’s about to happen more satisfying."

Simon’s eyes narrowed.

"Arrogant for someone about to–"

The official raised his hand.

"Begin!"

Simon immediately activated his weapon art, grey Aura condensing into razor-sharp wind blades that shot toward Edrin from multiple angles.

"Storm Cutter!"

Edrin’s tactical skill flared to life.

His enhanced perception showed him every trajectory, every timing, every weakness in the attack pattern.

He drew both swords in one fluid motion and moved.

Not away from the attack but through it.

His blades deflected wind blade after wind blade with minimal movement, each parry perfectly angled to redirect rather than absorb the force.

He closed the distance in seconds.

Simon’s eyes widened in shock as Edrin appeared directly in front of him, swords already in motion.

"How did you–"

SLASH.

Edrin’s blade opened a shallow cut across Simon’s chest, drawing first blood.

Then his other sword came up, disarming Simon’s hasty defense.

"Your attack patterns are predictable. You telegraph every move half a second before executing. Against someone with tactical analysis skill, you might as well be fighting in slow motion."

Edrin’s voice was clinical, educational even.

His swords moved in a blur.

SLASH. SLASH. SLASH.

Three more precise cuts appeared on Simon’s arms and legs. Not deep enough to cause permanent damage, but painful and debilitating.

Simon tried to counter, his grey Aura flaring desperately.

But every attack was deflected or avoided with minimal effort.

Edrin made it look easy, almost boring.

Like an adult sparring with a child.

"Do you understand now? Resources don’t matter if you don’t have the foundation to use them properly. If we had the same resources as you, we would have utterly squashed you."

Edrin swept Simon’s legs out from under him and placed a sword at his throat.

"Yield."

Simon stared up at him with absolute shock and humiliation.

"I... I yield."

The crowd erupted in shocked murmurs.

One of the top Nobles had just been completely dominated by a commoner.

****

Ring Two: Ronan Hale vs Quin Xander

Quin stood across from Ronan with visible nervousness despite his healed injuries.

He remembered the gymnasium incident. Remembered watching Ronan’s monstrous strength in action.

But he couldn’t back down now, and Nobles didn’t lose to commoners in ranking matches.

They couldn’t afford to.

"I won’t go easy on you just because we’ve talked before."

Quin tried to sound confident.

Ronan’s massive frame cracked his knuckles, his dark bronze skin gleaming with gathering Aura.

"Good. I wasn’t planning to go easy either."

"Begin!"

Quin immediately created distance, knowing getting into close combat with Ronan would be suicide.

He pulled out a whip crackling with yellow lightning, his family’s specialized weapon.

"Lightning Serpent!"

The whip lashed out with incredible speed, the electrified tip aiming for Ronan’s torso.

CRACK.

Ronan caught the whip... with his bare hand.

The lightning crackled across his Aura-hardened skin harmlessly as he stared at Quin with a predatory grin.

"My turn."

He yanked the whip hard and Quin flew forward involuntarily, unable to release his weapon in time.

Ronan’s other fist met him halfway.

BOOM.

The punch caught Quin square in the face, his defensive Aura shattering like glass.

Blood exploded from his nose as he crashed backward, sliding across the ring floor.

"Get up. I know you’re tougher than that."

Ronan’s voice was almost encouraging.

Quin struggled to his feet, vision swimming, and activated his inherited skill.

Golden electricity covered his entire body, amplifying his speed dramatically.

He became a blur, attacking from multiple angles.

Ronan didn’t try to dodge.

He just stood there and let Quin’s electrified attacks bounce off his Titan-enhanced body.

Each hit created sparks but did no real damage.

"Are you done yet?"

Quin’s confidence finally broke.

He tried to retreat, to create distance again but he was too slow.

Ronan’s hand grabbed his face and lifted him off the ground effortlessly.

"I said... are you done?"

Then he slammed Quin into the ground with devastating force.

BOOM.

The impact cratered the ring floor and... Quin didn’t get back up.

The official rushed forward to check.

"Quin Xander is unconscious! Winner: Ronan Hale!"

The crowd’s shocked murmurs grew louder.

Two victories.... Two complete dominations!

****

Ring Three: Lysa Morwen vs Ruby Fray

Ruby stood in her ring with her arm still in a sling, heavily bandaged from yesterday’s brutal encounter with Damian.

But she’d recovered enough to fight, and her pride demanded she not back down from a challenge.

Even if her opponent was the Mafia’s best archer.

"This is bullshit. I’m still injured and they’re making me fight?"

Ruby’s complaint was loud enough for the crowd to hear.

Lysa stood at the opposite end with her bow ready, her brown hair tied back practically.

"You could have declined the challenge. Nobody forced you to accept."

"And look like a coward? Never."

"Then stop complaining and fight."

"Begin!"

Ruby immediately activated her family’s inherited water manipulation technique, creating dozens of floating water spheres around herself.

"Tidal Barrage!"

The spheres shot forward like bullets, each one capable of punching through stone.

Lysa’s sensory skill tracked every single projectile simultaneously.

She moved between them like a dancer, her body flowing around each attack by the narrowest margins.

Then her bow came up.

THWIP.

An Aura arrow materialized and flew towards her opponent.

Ruby’s water shield intercepted it as the arrow dispersing harmlessly.

"You’ll have to do better than–"

THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.

Three more arrows in rapid succession with each one coming from a slightly different angle.

Ruby’s water manipulation struggled to track them all.

Then... one arrow got through, grazing her injured arm.

She screamed, the pain from her existing injury amplifying.

"You bitch! That’s my injured arm!"

"Then you should have protected it better."

Lysa’s voice was cold and unsympathetic.

THWIP. THWIP. THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.

A continuous barrage of Aura arrows flew, each one precisely aimed at non-lethal but painful targets.

Ruby tried to maintain her water shields while attacking back, but her injury made the coordination impossible.

An arrow pierced her thigh.

Another hit her shoulder.

And a third caught her side.

None were lethal or permanently damaging, but the pain was overwhelming.

Ruby collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

"I yield! I yield!"

The official called it immediately.

"Winner: Lysa Morwen!"

The crowd was going absolutely wild now.

Three matches... Three dominant victories by Mafia members.

****

Ring Four: Zavier Wells vs Ralph Eddington

Ralph stood in his ring with visible confidence despite yesterday’s beating.

He’d trained extensively with his family, had access to expensive resources, and his opponent was literally from Section D.

The weakest section.

’This should be easy.’

"Nothing personal, Wells. But you’re out of your league here."

Zavier stood across from him, gripping his spear with both hands.

His face showed none of his usual anxiety. Instead, there was a strange calm, almost eerie focus.

"I know I’m weak compared to you. In resources, training and everything."

Zavier’s voice was steady.

"But Boss taught me something important. Being weak doesn’t mean you lose. It just means you have to fight differently."

"Cute philosophy but it won’t help you in the fight."

"Begin!"

Ralph immediately closed distance, his dual daggers glowing with blue Aura.

"Frost Strike!"

The daggers came at Zavier from two directions simultaneously.

Zavier’s spear moved in a wide arc, deflecting both attacks clumsily but effectively.

Then he countered with a straight thrust but Ralph dodged easily.

"Too slow!"

But Zavier wasn’t aiming for Ralph.

His spear struck the ground between them, and his Aura exploded outward in a shockwave.

Ralph stumbled backward with his footing disrupted.

Zavier immediately pressed forward, his spear work becoming a whirlwind of desperate, aggressive strikes.

No technique or elegant form was involved.

Just relentless, overwhelming offense that gave Ralph no room to counter.

"What the hell kind of fighting style is this!?"

Ralph’s voice carried genuine confusion.

"It’s called ’not dying’ style!"

Zavier’s spear caught Ralph’s dagger and disarmed it.

Then he drove the butt of his spear into Ralph’s stomach.

THUD.

Ralph doubled over, gasping.

Zavier’s spear spun and the blade edge pressed against Ralph’s throat.

"Yield."

Ralph stared up at him in absolute disbelief.

"How... you’re from Section D..."

"I yield."

The words came out choked as the crowd exploded with noise.

Even the weakest Mafia member had won.

****

All Around The Training Grounds

Match after match played out across the various rings.

Marcus, the beer-loving student, defeated his opponent through sheer unpredictable fighting that looked more like drunken brawling than martial arts.

Selene with her twin daggers moved like a shadow, dismantling her opponent’s defenses with surgical precision.

Ariana, despite not fighting directly, used her spatial storage to swap weapons mid-combat in ways her opponent couldn’t predict, creating openings that led to victory.

Every single Mafia member was winning.

The crowd’s energy had shifted from skeptical anticipation to absolute shock to something approaching awe.

"They’re actually doing it. They’re actually beating Nobles."

"How is this possible?"

"Look at their teamwork! They’ve clearly been training together for months!"

"These aren’t random commoners like us anymore. This is an actual organization with real coordination."

Among the watching students, the former Mafia members stood frozen.

They’d left because they thought the organization was doomed without Noble backing and resources.

They’d abandoned their brothers and sisters because it seemed like the smart, safe choice.

Now they watched those same people systematically dismantling the Noble rankings.

"We fucked up."

One of them whispered.

"We really fucked up."

Another could only nod, his face pale.

They’d chosen safety over loyalty.

And now that choice was going to haunt them.

****

Final Results

When all the matches concluded, the results were undeniable.

Thirty-two Mafia members had challenged thirty-two Noble students.

Thirty-two victories!

Zero losses!

The top fifty rankings had been completely restructured in a single coordinated operation.

The crowd stood in stunned silence, processing what they’d just witnessed.

This wasn’t just about individual victories.

This was a statement.

A declaration that the old order was over.

That commoners weren’t subordinates anymore... they were equals.

And in some cases, they were superior.

The Mafia was rising... And the Academy would never be the same.