Super.Dawg
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Chapter 184
🕑 Added 2025-12-06 19:37:13 +0000 UTCA Day Before
The cold of the late night pressed against the dormitory windows, making the glass tremble faintly each time the winter wind exhaled. Within Kana and Suri’s room, however, warmth gathered not from flames but from the heat of frantic planning.
The floor was smothered in parchment — diagrams of enemy formations, scribbled lists of skill interactions, hand-drawn maps showing the arena’s shifting terrain patterns. Notes cross-referenced with other notes until it all resembled a general’s archive rather than a school dorm.
Lantern-light painted everything gold and shadow, the flame stretching and shrinking as if nervous about the conversation taking place in the room.
Rin was sitting cross-legged on the wooden boards, hair tied loosely and eyes sharp with the kind of obsession only tournament fanatics possessed. A stack of parchment leaned against her thigh like a loyal pet.
“This third-year class…” Rin said, flicking a parchment with the back of her nail, “is going to be a problem.”
She spread the paper across the floor, revealing a rough formation drawn in frantic strokes. “All gold-class members except for one silver class. Chelle Pint—their support. Unusual and dangerous.”
Kana lowered her gaze to the sketch. Rin had circled Chelle’s figure in red ink, with three arrows pointing to a single note:
Skill sealing type of skill. Confusion type of skill.
“They’re almost always in the top five,” Rin continued, leaning forward. The lantern’s glow sharpened the determination on her face. “Last year they managed the top three. And all because Chelle turns every match into brute force and instinct. If we face them… stamina and raw talent without skills will decide everything.”
Kana rested her chin on her knuckles. “I know Chelle,” she said softly. “But we don’t have to worry. If it comes to a battle without skills…”
Her eyes swept to her companions.
“I think we’re the strongest group in the academy.”
Yuri snorted under her breath without looking up. She was surrounded by mountains of her own parchment—neatly written, and categorized. She added something to her notes with quick strokes of her quill.
“That’s true,” Yuri said, “only if you participate.”
Kana inhaled slowly.
Her absence was a shadow stretching over every plan they made.
Rin, oblivious to the emotional weight, continued sorting through papers like a storm. “The fourth-years are a bit weaker this season especially without Shaun, but their [Spearman]—Darrow—can break shields even without mana. Also—”
Kana turned them out for a moment. She gazed at the battlefield sketches spread across the floor. Arrows pointed, curved, crossed each other. Lines illustrated charge routes and fallback points. She realized something in that moment:
This wasn’t just a tournament anymore.
Not to them.
This was a war they intended to win. Well. At least get third place.
“Kana.” Yuri’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Just in case what you said is true—if Ryle really can’t compete—then offensively, every group still outweighs their defenses.”
Kana tapped the parchment beside her, tracing a drawn formation: a classic offense-heavy triangle encircled by mana symbols.
“Offense…” Kana murmured. “The best defense is a good offense.”
The sentence came automatically, familiar. Maybe too familiar. It was proven. But not in this world.
Rin swayed her head. “Boring defenses don’t win tournaments,” she said matter-of-factly. “Everyone knows that. The academy hates watching shield turtles. They tried defense-heavy strategies years ago, but no team made it past the quarter-finals.”
Kana’s expression hardened.
“No.”
Both girls froze as if saying Kana was about to make another absurd decision.
“We need someone,” Kana said, voice steady but deep enough to cut through their assumptions, “who is a pure tank.”
Rin blinked. “A pure tank? But—”
“No offense. No fancy mobility. Someone who stands… and doesn’t fall.”
Yuri slowly set down her quill. Rin opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again.
Then they both slumped in defeat.
“…As you wish, leader,” they said in unison.
Kana pulled over the parchment listing class types. Her fingers skimmed through [Shieldbearer], [Knight], [Bulwark]—until one name halted her completely.
[Guardian]
Popular but not common class.
A defender who didn’t merely protect…
but absorbed everything — force, mana based skills, helpful support skills to make the party tougher.
Someone who could hold the line even against Chelle’s skill-sealing field.
Kana’s pulse quickened.
“We’ll offer a position to this Clint—”
“THIS IS SO DELICIOUS!”
The three of them nearly levitated from shock.
They spun around.
And there lay Suri.
Sprawled sideways across her bed, blanket dangling off the edge, hugging her pillow like it was a feast platter. She was snoring loudly—yet still chewing invisible food with radiant joy.
Kana stared. Yuri covered her mouth. Rin looked personally betrayed by the interruption.
Suri smacked her lips in her sleep and murmured, “Can… I get another one?”
Silence.
Then—
Kana broke first.
A soft laugh escaped. Then Yuri. Then even Rin cracked.
The tension shattered like thin ice under sunlight.
For a moment, they weren’t strategists preparing for a high-stakes battle.
They were just friends in a messy dorm room, laughing in the middle of the night.
……
Back to the Present
The training field behind Stark Manor roared with movement. Frosty northern wind swept across the wide courtyard, carrying the metallic tang of mana and the distant rumble of clashing skills. Kana stood at the center of it all, her expression sharp, focused — a commander in everything but title.
Before her was a hired band of mercenaries: veterans with jagged scars, worn armor, and eyes that had seen too many real battles to take students lightly.
They were arranged roughly by class—burly frontliners with swords and shields, mana based classes with humming rings and glowing palms, swift scouts leaning on daggers.
Kana paced in front of them with a parchment in one hand.
“Your formation mimics the most common team we’ll face,” she said, tapping the diagram. “Offense-heavy. Overwhelming force. Minimal defenses. Attackers who believe momentum is everything.”
The mercenaries eyed her with raised brows. A teenage girl dictating battlefield structure?
But Kana didn’t waver.
She pointed to the students assembling behind her.
“Try to break them.”
She stepped aside.
The formation assembled seamlessly, like a machine with newly oiled gears. Rin directing, Boris cracking his neck at the back of the tanks, Adam and Leo locking shields — and at the very center of the front row stood Clint, massive yet looked small beside Andel, silent, unflinching.
Kana crossed her arms as she moved to the side to watch.
The mercenaries unleashed everything.
Explosions of mana streaked across the field like falling stars. Sword skills, Elemental fire, compressed wind blades, stone spikes tearing from the ground — a parade of destructive skill meant to overwhelm any ordinary academy formation in seconds. The air hissed, cracked, vibrated.
Kana watched every detail. Every tremor of the ground. Every flicker of mana.
And she smiled.
Not one skill broke through.
Not one attack penetrated.
Leo and Adam held their shields firm, their legs braced deep into the earth. Clint, in the center, absorbed the brunt of everything — mana dispersing against his body as if hitting an invisible wall. His Guardian aura pulsed outward, thickening the air around him.
The mercenaries exchanged bewildered glances.
“Again!” Kana ordered.
This time the mercenaries focused fire, pouring their mana in concentrated bursts, trying to shatter the formation’s center. The ground cracked from the pressure. The air shimmered from heat.
Still nothing.
Clint didn’t move an inch.
The first simulation ended only when the mercenaries finally staggered, gasping, their mana exhausted. The students remained standing, steady as monoliths.
What followed was a massacre.
Boris roared forward like a charging beast, the ground trembling with each step. Even the mercenaries’ hardened expressions faltered — one of them visibly flinched as Boris swung his heavy spear and sent three armored men flying like dolls.
Kana could almost taste their fear.
One simulation turned into two.
Two into five.
Five into more — each one pushing the students into fatigue, technique, and synergy.
By the end of the hour, the mercenaries were drenched in sweat, panting like they had fought a war. The students?
Tired, yes — but still standing. Still smiling. Clint was more capable than he looked. He was currently at level three yet his skills were proven to be reliable. A bit of a cheat if Kana could describe it with Leo and Adam on his side. She was curious why no one ever tried to recruit him.
Is it because Clint chose a different skill compared to the usual [Guardian] skills that you can find in books?
….
Kana’s heart lifted. “I was right.”
She thought. Boring but defense wins.
The bell rang then — a bright, metallic tone echoing across the snowy grounds. Stark Manor’s butler appeared at the doors, bowing deeply.
“You are all invited to the dining hall,” he announced. “Lord Stark awaits.”
Inside, the warmth of fire and enchanted lanterns greeted them. Long wooden tables stretched across the great hall, laden with roasted meats, steaming bread, spiced vegetables, and northern delicacies. Mercenaries and students sat shoulder to shoulder, steam rising from bowls, laughter filling the room.
At the head of the table sat Duke Stark himself, broad shouldered and silver-haired, eating casually among them instead of from a private seat of honor. His presence alone made everyone attempt proper posture.
Leo’s mother and sister were, as expected, nowhere to be seen.
Halfway through the feast, one of the mercenaries let out a low whistle.
“We didn’t know students were this powerful,” he said, lifting a cup. “Thought we’d crush you easily.”
Another mercenary slammed his cup on the table.
“I’m betting every coin I have on them this year!”
The students collectively choked on their food except for Kana.
Leo froze.
Then frantically signaled with his hands:
Don’t. Say. A word.
Duke Stark raised his brow with curiosity — but said nothing.
The students stopped their chatter and focused on eating made the dinner hall quieter compared earlier.
Post note:
Hope you enjoy the chap!
Have a great weekend 🙂
…
Comments
Super_Dawg
😂
Deepal
I recall Jordan saying “defence wins championships”.
Baelor
I wonder what food Suri was dreaming about. Also, their formation reminds of the phalanx used by the Greeks.
