My Special Ability is Growing Muscles

The coliseum smoldered like the carcass of a slaughtered beast.

Where once banners flew and cheers rose, excitement rippling through the atmosphere, now blood pooled in trenches, smoke burned the lungs, and the air rang with the cries of the wounded.

Healers swarmed the wreckage.

Not just those that came with the reinforcements, healers from Nexus Academy also finally charged into what was left of the coliseum as they whispered incantations of their abilities that stitched torn flesh, calming minds, and pulling the barely-breathing back from the dark embrace of death.

Every ability that failed to revitalize left another body covered with a cloak, another name to be whispered among the dead.

Soldiers hauled rubble aside, dragging survivors into the open.

Piles of corpses lined the arena's edges in the thousands, their once-proud forms reduced to silent husks, waiting to be counted. The smell of burned flesh and iron choked every breath.

This was the extent of damage that the Demon attack caused.

The applicants were gathered last. Sixteen had stood at the final stage of the combat phase, now healers' grim reports carried the verdict.

Two of them were gone.

Sienna, whose head was torn open during the Demon breach, her wide eyes still open and staring upward in disbelief.

The sight of her left Kairo's stomach churning. He clenched his fists.

And then there was Keal, the noble boy who'd broken formation, his body found mangled beneath rubble.

Their names joined the thousands fallen.

That left fourteen survivors. Fourteen bloodied, hollow-eyed teenagers who should have been celebrating their triumph. Instead, they stood in the middle of a graveyard, their victory drowned beneath corpses.

At this point, they no longer thought of the scholarship, only of the scars and trauma that what just transpired left in the depths of their souls.

In the end, they were still just 16 year olds.

Kairo sat slumped against a broken pillar. His body was shriveled again, his height diminished, his muscles eaten by the hunger of his cursed gift. Every breath was a battle; his stomach gnawed at him like a beast chewing his insides.

His hands trembled as he stared at the blood on them.

'Whose blood?' He thought, eyes hollow. 'Mine? Theirs? Everyone's?'

This was undoubtedly the most eventful day of his life.

He'd fought E-Rank constructs, he'd survived the night massacre, and he'd clawed through the combat rounds. He'd faced the Demon ambush, and still, somehow, he was alive.

Alive, when thousands weren't.

"Why me?" he muttered under his breath, voice hoarse. "Why am I still here?"

His fists clenched until his nails cut his skin. He forced himself upright, head lifting, eyes burning with raw fire. The answer pressed itself into his bones.

'Leora,' that was the only answer that was left in his head. He survived because of her.

"For her, I survive," he muttered.

The chaos hushed when two figures strode into the center of the coliseum.

Major Pain, bloodied, one arm hanging useless, his single eye burning like a furnace. His injuries took nothing from his intimidating presence, but the sight of the once tall and mighty Major in such condition told the tale of just how harrowing this attack was.

And then there was Principal Aelthar. Kairo had never seen him before today. His white robes were scorched, golden runes cracked, but his aura was still blazing with sovereign might.

Every soldier, every healer, and every applicant straightened at their presence. The carnage didn't matter for a moment. The two heroes stood like pillars holding up the sky.

Pain said nothing, his jaw locked, his gaze like steel.

But Aelthar spoke. His voice carried, soft yet unbreakable.

"You should not be standing here like this," he said in a deep but gentle voice, sweeping his eyes across the fourteen bloodstained faces. His tone trembled with something almost human, sorrow.

"This Academy was meant to be your crucible, your proving ground, your chance at a future. Instead, it became a massacre," he shook his head.

"And it happened inside these walls… walls that were meant to be the safest in the Human Domain."

He bowed his head in genuine remorse.

"For that, I apologize."

The fourteen didn't speak. Their faces stayed grim, their eyes hollow. Some looked away, while others stared at the corpses around them.

Aelthar straightened, his aura surging again, burning away the smoke.

"But you endured what no applicant before you ever has. You survived not only trials, but war. And for that, you will all be admitted into Nexus Academy. Not ten, not eleven, but all fourteen of you".

There were no cheers from them, no tears of joy.

After all that they've gone through to reach these moment, they no longer had any emotion to express.

Mira whispered under her breath, eyes trembling, voice cracking. "We survived… but at what cost?"

Kairo stood silent, fists clenched. He felt no pride, no triumph, only a fire that simmered in his chest; rage at the demons, rage at the corpses, and rage at his own weakness.

He promised himself. 'Never again, never again will I be this powerless!'

And then, the silence broke with the rush of footsteps. A messenger, armor scorched, face pale with ash, sprinted into the ruins. He dropped to one knee before the Principal and Major Pain, chest heaving.

"Principal! Major!" His voice cracked with terror.

"They… t-the Demons…!" He choked, then forced the words out. "They didn't only strike here."

A hush fell across the survivors as Major Pain sharply looked at him. "Speak". He demanded coldly.

The messenger's voice shook. "They hit the forges too, and they also hit the supply artery. Cities have fallen, multiple human cities are gone".

The words landed heavier than the explosions.

The coliseum was silent but for the weeping of survivors.

Aelthar closed his eyes, his white flame aura flickering. Major Pain's fist clenched until blood dripped between his knuckles.

At last, Aelthar spoke, his voice quiet but certain.

"This… was not an ambush. This was the opening move."

His eyes lifted to the fourteen survivors, to the tens of thousands dead, to the shattered coliseum.

"The war has begun."