Super.Dawg
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Chapter 187
🕑 Added 2025-12-10 10:12:01 +0000 UTCThe preparation room breathed with a tension so thick it felt like another wall pressing inward.
Enchanted stones embedded in the ceiling glowed faintly, casting pale morning light over dozens of pale faces. Even though the sun had only just crested the horizon, sweat already beaded along brows, necks, and trembling hands. Cloaks fidgeted. Boots tapped. Every tiny sound echoed like thunder in the cramped contestant room.
Roy retched quietly in the corner. Rin hurried past Kana, muttering something about the bathroom for the third time. The scent of nerves—cold sweat and hastily eaten breakfast—hung in the air like a fog.
It reminded Kana of a battlefield just before the first arrow flew.
Kana’s face grimaced. We’re going to be alright. Right?
She hugged her arms across her chest, watching her teammates. She wasn’t even participating today, yet seeing them like this curled something tight inside her chest.
They’re too tense… way too tense. How do I calm them down?
Outside the thick stone walls, the roar of the coliseum seeped in like distant stormwaves. Not just packed—overcrowded. A pressure that felt almost physical, pressing through the walls, vibrating in her bones. Thousands of voices, all waiting. All watching.
For students experiencing this for the first time, it was no wonder hands shook as they tightened straps on armor or cleaned weapons unnecessarily for the sixth time.
Everyone was nervous, even their twin tower boys. Boris and Adam.
Well… except for one.
Suri sat on a bench with her legs swinging casually, humming as she sipped juice from a cup she somehow smuggled inside. Not a single bead of sweat on her. Not even a flicker of concern. She looked like someone waiting for the parade to start, not a brutal magic-and-steel competition.
Kana approached her, clinging to a desperate hope. “Suri, you look… relaxed. What are you thinking about? Maybe you can share something to help the others calm down?”
Suri blinked up at her, eyes clear, posture loose. “Hmm? Oh.”
She shrugged. “Don’t think too much, I guess?”
Kana waited.
Suri smiled brightly. “Besides, I love attention.”
Around her, a few students groaned.
Kana stared at her.
“...Ah. That doesn't help at all.”
Suri raised her cup cheerfully. “It should. Let’s just have fun out there.”
Kana sighed, rubbing her forehead as another faint roar surged from the coliseum above them—like an entire kingdom holding its breath for the first match.
The pressure closed in harder.
And Kana realized…
This wouldn’t be easy.
But it was almost time.
And ready or not, almost whole kingdom was watching.
….
As was tradition, the king himself had drawn the matchups earlier that morning, and fate—merciful or cruel—had handed Kana’s group the opening match against Valdis’ seasoned team. Not really seasoned but at least, it was now their second time going into the arena.
Kana exhaled slowly as she stood near the edge of the arena tunnel, arms crossed, cloak brushing against her legs with the cold wind drifting in from the open coliseum. From here she could see the arena sand—golden under the enchanted lamps—stretching far wider than any training field she’d ever stepped into. The arena was ready even with the sun hiding behind the thick clouds.
The roar of the crowd throbbed through the stone beneath her boots.
Pressure… it’s different when it’s real, she realized. She’d fought monsters, nobles, even assassins—but this? Thousands of eyes waiting to judge every movement? The weight settled heavier than she expected.
Across the arena, Valdis’ group waited inside the opposite tunnel. Kana recognized a few of them—stern eyes, steady grips, shoulders squared. They’d tasted this atmosphere last year. They’d stood under these lights before. In terms of experience, they were leagues ahead.
Kana inhaled deeply.
I have no choice but to trust them…
Yuri especially. The strategist. The calm voice among storms.
The one who would make the calls when blades clashed and mana exploded.
A horn echoed across the coliseum. The large roar of the crowd followed, adding to the pressure.
The announcer stepped forward, voice amplified by the enchanted stone. “On my right side—ranked fourteenth out of forty groups who participated last year—Explode group! One of this year’s favourite contenders for the top five!”
A section of the crowd erupted. Valdis’ team marched into the arena sand.
Shields gleamed. Spears lowered. Their formation was clean, practiced—sharp enough to cut the tension itself.
Yet those who watched closely saw it: they were tense. Not from fear of the crowd—but from hunger. They wanted this win.
Kana swallowed.
They want blood.
The announcer turned toward Kana’s side. “And on my left—first-year students! The majority of them are from the copper-class!”
A ripple of laughter and murmurs scattered across the seats.
“However,” the announcer’s tone dipped, teasing, “one of them is a gold badge holder. I will not reveal which. And they call themselves… the lightning group!”
Groans and disappointed sighs answered him. Nobles leaned forward. Merchants whispered bets. A thousand eyes swept toward the tunnel Kana’s group emerged from.
They entered through the shadow.
Adam stepped first—towering, broad-shouldered, aura steady as bedrock. His axe gleamed beneath the light, his shield strapped to his arm as if it was nothing. Behind him came Yuri, Rin, Suri, Toby, Leo, Andel, Clint, and the others, each taking their place with visible nerves—but with determination tempering their steps.
Their presence was not imposing because of confidence.
It was imposing because they moved anyway.
They crossed the sand until both groups stood roughly two hundred meters apart—a battlefield carved by tradition, expectation, and mana-saturated tension.
The hush fell.
Up in the royal balcony, the king rose from his seat. His cloak billowed behind him like a living banner, the sun crest embroidered across it shimmering under enchantment.
He raised a hand.
Clapped once.
The sound cracked like a thunderbolt.
The arena came alive.
The Annual Tournament had begun.
….
It was one of those moments Kana loathed her [High Awareness]. What others called a gift felt, right now, like a curse carved into her skull.
She could hear everything.
Every. Single. Thing.
The shifting breaths of thousands of spectators—drawn in, released, scattered like gusts of wind across the seats.
The twitch of a nervous foot on the opposite side of the arena.
The heartbeat of a child in the crowd, fluttering fast from excitement.
The subtle grind of sand under Valdis’ front line as they adjusted their footing.
Even the faint click of someone chewing roasted nuts in the seventh row.
Every movement.
Every whisper.
The world pressed in on her from all sides, a storm of sensations crashing against her mind.
Kana clenched her jaw, slid a folded piece of parchment over each ear, and held them tightly. It wasn’t enough—nothing ever fully blocked it—but it dulled the overwhelming noise to something survivable. The sensations still pulsed at the edge of her consciousness, like waves beating against a thin wall.
Focus. Breathe. Not your fight. Support them from here.
She forced her gaze toward the arena.
Today’s battlefield wasn’t the usual flat stone.
It had been reshaped—converted into something new. Something harsh. Something… foreign.
The desert terrain.
Wind swept across the coliseum, kicking thin spirals of golden sand into the air. The ground rippled with uneven dunes, soft and treacherous beneath the feet. Patches of firmer earth poked through, but most of the arena was a rolling sea of grains—hot-colored despite the northern chill.
Empire visitors… of course they changed the terrain.
Their academy fought on sand. Their duels favored unstable footing, sudden shifts, and the ability to read terrain like water.
Kana felt her stomach knot.
Both groups moved slowly at first—inch by inch—cautious, methodical.
Supporters muttered incantations. Enchantments shimmered faintly above their teammates, like air caught in a heatwave. Defensive barriers flickered into existence. Weapons glowed with their own different skills.
Yuri’s commands were steady, quiet but firm.
Valdis’ captain whispered orders just as intense.
Lines tightened. Shields angled. Steps synchronized.
The tension was suffocating—an invisible thread pulling both teams closer, tighter, wound like a bowstring ready to snap.
Kana exhaled.
They were doing well—holding formation, waiting for the right moment—
Then she saw movement.
Suri leaned in close to Yuri, her lips brushing the strategist’s ear.
A whisper.
A suggestion.
A spark of mischief Kana recognized instantly.
The loud noise from the crowd was overwhelming. Kana couldn’t pick up a word.
Yuri froze.
Her eyes widened—slightly—not enough for most to notice, but Kana saw it.
Doubt creased her brow. Her grip on her staff tightened.
She hesitated.
Reluctantly, Yuri nodded back.
Kana felt her heartbeat drop.
Not good. Told them to stick in the second formation.
Suri… what are you planning now?
The air around Suri shimmered faintly—dangerously.
Like the moment before a mirage becomes real.
Like the desert heat hiding something beneath the surface.
Kana’s parchment slipped a little from her ear as she instinctively leaned forward.
Every whisper.
Every footstep.
Every heartbeat in the arena sharpened suddenly.
Something was about to happen.
Something she really wasn’t prepared for.
……
There was a tension in the atmosphere—a pressure like heat before a summer storm—right before the first fireball appeared above Valdis’ head. It started the size of a lantern flame, then grew… and grew… until its light washed over the entire desert arena. Gasps rippled across the crowd, followed quickly by a thunderous roar.
Kana felt the intensity like a vibration in her bones.
Around the perimeter, supports stiffened, their hands already hovering over staves and scrolls. Elle York stepped closer to the boundary, eyes narrowed—not panicked, but ready. Ready to intervene the moment someone’s enchanted necklace shattered.
Good, Kana thought. At least the healers weren’t slacking.
She couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.
They were no longer trembling from nerves—they were focused on the battle.
But that smile vanished when the next wave of magic lit up the field.
As the distance closed—fifty meters, forty, thirty—the battlefield erupted.
The ground cracked open with jagged earth spikes.
Wind sharpened to blades.
Lightning snapped sideways like furious serpents.
And looming above it all—Valdis’ blazing star of a fireball, swelling large enough to distort the very air.
Kana’s senses were in a frenzy.
She could still hear everything, the volume from the sound though was lesser compared to before—the crunch of sand under boots, the sharp breaths, the irregular heartbeats. Clint’s especially. His rhythm stuttered. Hesitating.
Of course he was. For all his drills, all his training, facing real combat—real devastating skills—are different. The first time always shakes you.
Then she felt it.
A sudden, clean shift in the air around Clint, like the snapping of a thin thread.
[Borrowed Health]
Kana’s eyes focused sharply. She hadn’t been sure before, but now there was no doubt.
A soft, translucent aura surged around Clint’s chest—no flash, no fanfare, but a second skin of vitality settling into place.
Five minutes.
Five minutes of borrowed Health Points.
Five minutes of shielding the entire team from the first devastating barrage… so long as the skill latched onto the highest-health ally.
A skill almost no [Guardian] ever chose.
A skill almost no one understood, because if Clint wasn’t officially in a party, it cast nothing. No effect, no numbers, no glow. People thought it was a broken skill. Some mocked it outright.
Kana could tell now—by the way the aura coiled around him like a protective serpent—that if used correctly, if timed at the brink of impact…
…it was terrifying.
Clint didn’t even realize how powerful he was yet.
And suddenly Kana understood what Suri whispered earlier, why Yuri had looked doubtful.
They’re planning something.
Something dangerous.
Something untested.
Something that relied—heavily—on Suri herself stepping forward rather than shrinking back.
Kana’s heartbeat quickened.
This might either be brilliant… or disastrous.
Post note:
The moments before the battle
Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂
Comments
Bosparan
Thanks for the chapter! Looks like fun is about to ensue I can already see the story twist: The Judge fails team Lightning in a mistaken attempt to save their lives, because they couldn't possibly survive the opening volley ;)
