'I've come too far to second guess myself,' I gazed at the mirror, looking up and down at myself. 'Am I going to regress? Regress to that which I tried to change?'

Closing my eyes, I shook my head, opening the door to the bathroom. I left the room, knowing what had to be done: I needed to focus.

I needed to focus on what was important, a chance to define who I could be: a better person. I knew it sounded childish in my head, but I only felt it was right to win the tournament. If I did so, I knew I would finally redeem myself. Not only would my parents and friends be more content with me, but so would I.

Plus, It's not like I had a choice. It was either results or termination.

My hands jittered as I opened my door. Until now, I hadn't truly fathomed the implications of the tournament but considering them created stress.

I focused on breathing In through my nose and out from my mouth. I reconcentrated, easing up my body.

After getting all my jitters out, I ate breakfast earlier in the morning, meaning my last task was to say goodbye to my mother — daily routine.

I proceeded to the first floor, entering our living room, my mother residing there.

She conversed with another maid, both enjoying what I thought was tea. My mother stopped speaking, smiling at the sight of me. She stood up and neared me, hugging me.

"I'm off to school," I whispered, hugging her back.

She hovered her hand towards my hair, pushing it up with her fingers, trying to make my messy hair look decent. We smiled, staring at each other's eyes.

"Tehla informed me you're participating in a tournament today," she said, pausing. "Is this true?"

Closing my eyes, I opened them. "It is... I'm sorry for not telling you earlier."

"Why hide such a thing?" She tugged her lips to the left, giving me a childish mug face.

"I wanted to tell you about it once I won," I muttered, looking away from my mother.

Tapping my shoulder, she laughed. "My boy, you sure are a silly one."

I created eye contact, blinking at her. "I thought you'd be mad."

"Who could be mad at such an innocent reason," she continued laughing, causing her to be short of breath. She lowered her body, her face closing in on my face. She kissed my forehead.

Her kiss wasn't anything bizarre, but it did something no magic could ever do. It made my worries disappear.

Lowering her eyebrows, she created a fake angry face. "You better win, or I'll be mad."

"I will," I smirked, letting go of my mother. "I will."

"Good luck," she waved at me, forming a bright smile, demonstrating delighted eyes.

I waved back, stepping out of the room and closing the door.

I neared the entrance of the house, ready to leave, but I turned my head to the left. Gaping at what should have been an empty room, I clicked my tongue. "What do you want?"

Tehla came out of a corner, smiling. "You sure have gotten keener with your senses. To think you're smart enough to maintain them while not even in combat. Impressive if I do say so myself."

"It's not that hard to realize when a seven orbital mage releases their magic at you," I shook my head, damn well knowing I didn't uncover Tehla, but she let me sense her. "What do you want?"

She remained smiling, coming closer to me but suddenly stopping. "I desire nothing from you, Mr. Radcliffe." She paused, looking at me and smirking. "Sir, my simple objective is to wish you luck."

Trying to keep my cool, I stretched my lips up, creating a fake smile. "Thanks." Waving at Tehla, I opened the door to the entrance.

"That being said, please keep yesterday's discussion in mind," she clearly spoke, not yelling but saying it loud enough for me to hear.

Looking back, I gave a thumbs up with my right hand. I knew Tehla meant well. Though, did I really? I was assuming she wanted the best for me. But perhaps she didn't...

After a quick walk to the school, I had to go to a building, a place I had never been to before. The students at the academy called it the warzone. It was where all the tournaments took place, though the official name was BCMS — Building of Combat, Magic, and Skills.

I already had my combat gear worn because I had no classes before the tournament. I dropped out of the manipulation class, the only class I had. Or I guess they forced me to quit because of my lack of ability regarding manipulation.

The tournament would occur during classes, but accommodation to skip a period when the tournament occurred was plausible. Furthermore, the classes would be more manageable. One example was combat classes would be light exercise instead of the regular course load.

Though none of that mattered at the moment, my mind was blazing with one main thought: success. My hands began jittering again, but I clenched them, nearing the BCMS.

I arrived at the building, noticing a stall at the entrance.

The male at the stall tilted his head, asking. "Are you here for The Culling Game?"

"Yes," I nodded, staring at the teen, who wore a student body emblem.

"In the morning, the Headmaster announced for participants to arrive earlier," he said, shuffling papers on his desk. "Meaning, you're late."

My eyes froze wide open. "Has it already started!?"

Shrugging, the boy asked. "What's your name?"

"Wryn Ruhtra Radcliffe," I answered, remaining as calm as I could.

Picking up an object, the boy proceeded to meddle with a similar type of device that Allura showed me: Tamablicet. He stopped scrolling, looking at me. "Room number 1506."

"Thank you," I ran into the building, biting my lip. I frantically looked at every room number, but I couldn't find 1506. It wasn't after what felt like a year — five minutes — that I found the room.

'Thank god,' I thought, viewing the room, but my relief turned into suspicion.

I was confused because the room was next to many others. There was no way a tournament could occur there. The room seemed smaller than auditoriums for class!

Entering the room, I opened my mouth, looking at the view: a large area with hundreds of individuals and seating areas. Everyone remained seated, each child wearing their facilities emblem arm-wrap. I didn't have mine on since Bertin had ours, and he wanted to hand them out right before the tournament.

I scanned the room, trying to find my group. But there were too many damn children.

I descended the stairs, noticing a peculiar color.

An orange-haired boy waved his hand, a natural beacon per se.

I went down a few more stairs, jogging to my right, trying to not bump people while nearing my group.

"Watch it," a child whizzed.

"Sorry," I whispered, continuing to jog, not paying much attention to who I had hit or who I would hit. Avoiding eye contact, I continued towards my group, finally reaching them after a plethora of seats.

Bertin extended out his hand, holding a red fabric. "Put this on your arm."

"Sure," I nodded, slipping my arm through the circular arm wrap. The wrap tightened, displaying Sixty-Eight and Group One. Sixty-Eight referred to our section number, and our section had six groups, so we were Group One since my group was the youngest.

Bertin let out a sigh of relief. "It seems like you're on time. I was worried that you wouldn't make it."

I glanced around, seeing both Ash and Allura. Ash closed his eyes, elbow resting on the armrest as he slept. On the other hand, Allura was standing next to Bertin, appearing like she would kill me at any second.

Allura gazed at me with her darting eyes, lowering her eyelids and shutting them. She sat down, easing on her once firm posture. She whispered, continuing to keep her eyes closed. "At least you're here."

"Take a seat," Bertin said, pointing to a seat.

Taking a seat next to him, I stretched my legs — relaxing.

Unfortunately, that comfort didn't last long. My thoughts intruded, causing a slight pain at the back of my head.

I grabbed my head, looking down at the floor, but before it could get worse, Bertin tapped my shoulder.

Luckily, the distress disappeared as soon as Bertin smiled. "Don't worry about being late. After all, it was a surprise announcement on the Headmaster's part." He paused, laughing. "Anyways, the Headmaster being late exempted any blame on your part."

"Thank you," I smiled. My mind eased almost like a raging fire put out.

I turned my head around, viewing the whole room, noticing the superabundance of children. I rubbed my neck, eyes wide open, hardly able to fathom the sheer number of students. Most of the students were from my grade, exempt from a captain. Our captain was Bertin, but only for when he was available. Melia would take charge on days when Bertin had his tournament to attend.

After around twenty minutes of unrest, the crowd's noise quickly faded, turning into silence. Everyone's head turned, even some children pointed upwards to the left.

I turned my head, trying to view what everyone was looking at, but to no avail since I was too short. A few moments later, four men entered my peripheral. The men passing were Headmaster Vafaren and three of the board members.

Their presence was undoubtedly terrifying, Vafaren in particular. So much so that I stopped looking, directing my attention to the chair in front of me. Mages could hide their magical presence from others, so why were they displaying it? There was only one explanation I could think of: they purposely emitted magic to scare us.

A hum rang in my right ear — causing me to grip it — the ring shifting into a voice. "Ahem, we apologize for our delay. The tournament shall begin shortly."

Redirecting my attention forward, I noticed the four men standing, but one of them may have been a female — I wasn't sure. They were positioned in the middle of the open area ahead of all the seats.

"We shall begin the tournament soon," the voice said, pausing.

One of the four board members, a male with glasses, stomped his foot onto the ground. The stomp created a shockwave, making its way up to the furthermost seat.

He whispered into the Headmaster's ear, turning his attention back to us. "I will be introducing the general rules of the tournament, though hopefully, you have already read the rule book." He said, pacing around the stage while looking at the crowd. "The Culling Game was made to be unexpected. Still, there are a few imperishable rules. Firstly, every section starts with five points. A loss counts towards a deduction of one and a half points. Meaning if you reach zero, elimination will occur. Since points are detrimental to success, we added another feature: concessions. If your group concedes twenty seconds into a match, then the negation of one point will be issued."

Bertin gripped his chair, narrowing his eyes and directing his attention to one of the board members. Bertin had already expressed his discomfort with the sudden change of tournament-style, so he was angry, and it seemed like he still was. Bertin ground his teeth, continuing to pay attention, letting go of the chair.

I quickly spun my head, making sure Bertin didn't catch me staring at him.

The board members were speaking amongst themselves. One of the board members — a female dwarf — came forward, directing her attention to the assemblage.

She let out an audible sigh, staring at the floor. "The circumstances of today's events are as follows-"

Headmaster Vafren interjected, tapping the female dwarf's shoulder. "I'll cut to the chase." He let go of her shoulder, signaling his hand towards the fourth board member. Looking at her closer, I assumed she was a female human.

The female human spun around, disappearing into nothingness, but acting normal, the Headmaster stayed neutral as if nothing had happened.

"There's too many of you," the Headmaster smiled, scanning the crowd from left to right. "That's a problem! The tournament will take forever with the implemented rules." He remained unfazed, his smile almost mocking us. "Today, approximately one-third of you all will be remaining."

The crowd went abrupt, screaming out questions and concerns, even waking up Ash. On the other hand, Bertin and Allura were unnaturally calm, almost like they expected the unexpected.

"Silence," the Headmaster yelled, causing me and many others to grab our ears. "Today will not be the start of the tournament, but your opportunity to join the tournament!"

"What? That's not fair!" A child in the front row questioned, standing up and stomping towards the Headmaster.

The Headmaster's smile lowered, turning into a solemn face. "Sit."

A gust of wind pushed the child backward, slamming him back into his seat. The child hit his head against the chair, knocking him unconscious. The children nearby were in shock, forcing their mouths shut.

The Headmaster's lips tugged up as he laughed. "Now, now, shall we introduce the rules?" A half-smile rose as he added. "One-third of the participants will be the prey, and the others will be the predators. Those who are prey have the simple task of not giving up. As for the predators, you folk need to cause two sections to say give up, or you face elimination."

Everyone remained silent, waiting for the Headmaster to add more information.

Headmaster Vafaren stood still, raising his hand in the air. "Don't be afraid to harm others! All injuries are not permanent, so do as you please. "

The crowd's confusion grew, evident with even Bertin darting his eyes back and forth between the Headmaster and our group.

"One hour is the time frame. Achieve your section's goal in the time frame or be eliminated, and as for what group you belong to, worry not," the Headmaster snapped, causing our armbands to radiate. "If your armband is red, then you're a predator. If your armband is blue, then you're prey."

I looked Bertin in the eyes, but he remained speechless. Not saying a word to one another, we turned our heads back to the Headmaster.

"Now, if you will, reinada initiate the spell," he lowered his hand, a strong wind blowing from his hand onto the crowd. The wind was thick white, distorting my vision.

*SWOOSH*

"What's happening," I tried asking my group, but the wind was too loud, dampening all noise.

A transparent white gust hit me. I stood up, pushing myself against the wind, attempting to move forward. I flailed my arms in the air as the wind forced me back into my seat.

I tried to view the others, only noticing vague figures. I yelled at them, attempting to get their attention. "What's happening!" I shrieked again. "Can anyone one hear me!?"

My body began aching with a tingling sensation.

MY BODY!

Looking at my body, I froze, opening my mouth.

My arm vanished in thin air, turning into a white mist. Snapping out of it, I frantically tried grasping the other parts that vanished, but even the hand I tried using disappeared.

Eventually, all I could see was pitch black. That was until I reopened my eyes, seeing a blur of images.

Opening my mouth, I could hardly breathe, so I tried yelling. "Is anyone there!" I barely could as the wind pressed against my body. This time, an unfamiliar sensation etched me. Almost like the wind was pushing against my body from the bottom.

Crashing onto the floor, legs first, I realized why I couldn't breathe. I was falling from the sky!

Opening my eyes, I gained some vision, making out two shadowy figures. One to my left and the other to my right.

The white fog was still present, making my vision even more blurry.

"Who's there," a female voice yelled to my left.

"I'm so confused," a male voice exclaimed to my right.

I quickly augmented my body, bringing lighting to my hands. "Damn it!"

All three of us were in a circle, with our hands pointed at each other. I couldn't make them out, but there was one thing I could guess: the Culling Game started.