NOVEL NEXT Chapter 58 - Individual Combat Midterm Part I: Capture the Flag
The Outdoor Arena had transformed from the dirt open-air field where they'd usually held class into a sprawling arena that now sported observation decks ringing the main floor. Inside the arena itself, battle awaited.
Nick stood with his teammates and the rest of Alpha class on one of the higher observation levels, watching Professor Rhyst and his seven assistants position themselves in front of them. Wearing simple instructor robes, his presence commanded attention—from his imposing frame to his scarred features, each mark a testament to a career spent in dimensional warfare.
"Your Combat Midterm begins now," he announced, his words echoing off the arena's walls. "You will be evaluated on your martial prowess and tactical adaptation under pressure."
Around them, the rest of the second-year class filled the observation decks, having completed their combat midterms earlier in the week. Their conversations created a constant buzz that underscored Professor Rhyst's instructions.
"All of you will enter the arena below," Rhyst continued, gesturing toward the combat floor. "Your objective is simple: Each of you will wear a colored flag attached to your upper back. Lose your flag, you're eliminated. The last eight people standing advance to an elimination round."
[Host, system interfaces are disabled for this exam. I'll remain offline until the conclusion. Good luck.]
No problem, thanks Sophia.
"Combat rules are as follows," Rhyst announced, pointing to the interface screen behind him that displayed the regulations. "Since this is an individual combat midterm, full-contact engagement is not only permitted but encouraged. This includes grappling, throws, strikes, and creative use of your environment."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep over the class before continuing.
"What is not allowed: mana, system interfaces, or any external devices. If you are caught, or if my assistants or I detect the use of any enhancements beyond what your physical body can achieve, you will be immediately disqualified from this exam. Additionally, your entire team will be disqualified from participating in tomorrow's team combat midterm."
Rhyst let his gaze sweep over the students one final time. "Do I make myself clear?" he asked, his voice sharp and commanding.
"Yes, sir!" Nick and the rest of Alpha class responded in unison.
"Good. Get in the arena."
With that, his seven aids had everyone form seven lines. Each line would carry a different colored flag and enter the arena from a different point.
The arena began to shift, stone plates rising and falling to create a dynamic landscape of elevation changes and tactical obstacles.
"The exam will last 10 minutes. Every 2 minutes a section of the arena will fall away, forcing you all to interact with each other," Rhyst announced as each group entered the arena from their designated sections. "When the 10 minutes are up, the last eight students still holding their flags will advance to the individual semifinal duels."
Nick, Jordan and Maggie each accepted a bright blue flag, which they fastened to the upper backs of their combat uniforms. Nick gave his a light tug, only to find he couldn't remove it.
There must be something in the material that makes it latch onto our suits. I'll ask Sophia about it later.
Stepping into the arena, he noticed the other students had begun spreading out. Their aid had explained while they walked through the tunnel that for the first minute, it would be impossible to remove the flags of anyone with the same color.
"Questions?" Rhyst asked, his tone suggesting there better not be any.
A stockily built student, James Murphy from the Iron Guard team, raised his hand.
"Professor, what about temporary alliances? Or even folks working with their teams?"
Rhyst's smile turned predatory. "Politics and betrayal are fundamental aspects of dimensional warfare. Form whatever alliances you think will help you survive, including working with your original teams. Just remember—only eight advance. Eventually, everyone becomes an enemy."
Nick caught several meaningful glances exchanged between various factions—tactical discussions happening within seconds through eye contact and subtle gestures.
"If that's all the questions, take your positions," Rhyst ordered. "BEGIN!"
The arena fell into motion—sort of. No one sprinted forward. Not yet.
Students drifted around the arena. Some formed tight circles. Others began eyeing specific groups or, in Nick's case, individuals.
Nick caught Jordan's eye and nodded toward the arena's perimeter wall. The three of them moved casually until their backs pressed against the cool stone, huddling close enough to speak in whispers.
"This feels weird," Maggie muttered, her hands unconsciously reaching for interfaces that weren't there. "I miss my multi-layer displays."
"Keep your voice down," Jordan hissed, watching the different teams that had turned their way after Maggie's comment. "Half our classmates are probably trying to eavesdrop."
Nick's gaze swept the arena casually, cataloging each team's posture around them. "What's the game plan, Maggie? I can tell you have one." She'd been grinning like a cat ever since she'd assessed her fellow students' positioning.
"Team Frostfire will definitely target us," she whispered, her gaze flicking toward where the Ember Twins stood with Robert, the lone ice mage on their team. "But Team Mirage wants to fight us too." Maggie nodded in their direction. "Carmen looks like she's chomping at the bit to fight you, Nick." Turning toward Team Mirage, Nick saw Carmen the Illusionist smiling wildly at him. He nodded back and quickly looked away.
"So what's our strategy, Mags? Looks like we've got some time before people start circling," Jordan asked, noticing that Rhyst and his aids had stepped back to observe.
Maggie leaned closer, her voice barely audible. "I have an idea, but it's risky." She paused, took a deep breath, and plowed ahead. "Look, I've trained with Val just like you two, but combat still isn't my forte." She saw them about to get defensive and raised her hands. "Let me finish, please."
With a slight shrug, she continued, "Without my interfaces, I'm basically useless in a straight fight. So while you two fight, I'll be the one who comes in to steal the flags. This way, we'll always be double-teaming anyone we face. Here's what I'm thinking—we've got two teams that need crushing, especially because of how they're connected to Kai and his team. The 'High House' teams: Team Frostfire and House Meridian. Since they'll likely be allied, they'll have one of the largest alliances on the field right now and could easily take us out if we don't act first."
Nick felt an odd sensation, something within him urging him to look up—he was being watched. Looking up, his eyes met Zora Hayes observing him with unmistakable intensity. She slowly nodded at him, then deliberately tilted her head toward the same primary threats Maggie had just identified.
"Looks like we have an ally," Nick whispered. "Seems Zora's willing to work with us to target the High House teams."
Looking around Jordan's shoulder, Maggie spotted Zora in the crowd of students and gave her a slow nod.
"Okay good. That makes this part easier. That still leaves seventeen people," Maggie continued. "The Iron Guard team excels in physical combat, but Fergus and Caren are their weak link—technomages like me, but they haven't had Val's training to fall back on. With Griff injured, Everett and Liam are their only damage dealers, so their strategy will be completely off."
Jordan's gaze shifted to Team Mirage, where Carmen and Greyson looked ready to charge across the arena. "What about them?"
"They're a problem," Maggie groaned. "They're battle maniacs who live for this kind of chaos. We need to convince them it would be more fun to fight us in the one-on-one semifinals than waste energy in this free-for-all."
"Easier said than done," Jordan grunted.
"Then if you encounter them, just run," Maggie said bluntly.
"The Storm Weavers will probably stay neutral unless someone attacks them first, and Zora's team are our allies. It makes sense to only go after these two teams, once everyone else has been eliminated."
As Maggie spoke, the team slowly made their way from the other Blue flag teams toward the arena's midpoint, staying close to the wall for cover. Nick noticed Team Frostfire tracking their movement, the twins' expressions promising violence.
"For the Frostfires," Maggie whispered as they reached their position, "take Robert out first—he's the most level-headed of the three. Then go after Blaze and Phoenix while they're disorganized."
Just as she finished speaking, one of Professor Rhyst's aides announced over the arena's intercom system, "Eight minutes remaining."
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Before the words had fully faded, Nick's attention snapped toward the red flag gate where the Iron Guards had been standing.
The ground trembled.
Without warning, that section of the arena collapsed with a deep, echoing rumble. The Iron Guards had already vacated the area, moving quickly toward the center of the arena.
As if that was their cue, Team Frostfire and House Meridian charged toward Nick's team in a coordinated pincer attack. But their formation shattered within seconds as Zora's team intercepted House Meridian from the left, while Team Mirage—spotting the coordinated assault and being closest to House Meridian—decided to crash the party, slamming into House Meridian from the opposite side.
The coordinated assault unraveled into a three-way clash between Team Apex, Team Mirage, and House Meridian, leaving Nick's team to face Team Frostfire alone.
Just as Maggie predicted, Robert charged—then hesitated. Seeing his allies tied up elsewhere, he slowed his advance, letting the Ember twins surge ahead.
Jordan didn't let him escape. Circling around the twins, he blocked Robert's retreat with a burst of speed. They stood for a moment, sizing each other up—then Jordan struck.
He feinted a high strike, snapping his fist toward Robert's face. Robert raised his guard to block—only to find himself too slow.
Jordan accelerated at the last second, hooking Robert's arm with one hand while driving his knee hard into Robert's ribs. As Robert staggered from the hit, Jordan yanked the green flag free in one smooth motion, and Robert's combat uniform flashed red twice.
In seconds the fight was over, and Robert was out.
"One down," Jordan muttered, already moving back to his teammates.
Robert stood there frozen, still processing his defeat.
Meanwhile, Nick and Maggie faced off against the Ember Twins.
Blaze struck first, lunging from the left with a quick jab aimed at Nick's face. At the same time, Phoenix closed in on Maggie, trying to flank her and set up a clean pincer attack.
He didn't get the chance. As soon as he'd closed in, Maggie spun and snapped a vicious high kick straight into Phoenix's groin. Stunned, Phoenix let out a choked moan as he folded in half, clutching himself and giving Maggie the opening she needed to step in, rip the green flag from his back, and step away.
"One more to go!" Maggie called to Nick as she tied Phoenix's flag around her wrist. Behind her, Phoenix let out a high-pitched moan, still on his knees as his suit flashed red twice.
Blaze lasted only a couple seconds longer, overwhelmed by Nick and Jordan's combined assault. His flag joined his teammates' in Maggie's hands as Team Frostfire suffered their second humiliating defeat at the hands of the Westlake transfer students.
As the eliminated Frostfire members trudged toward the arena exit, Nick, Maggie and Jordan turned their attention to the chaos unfolding across the field. They'd been the first team to eliminate their targets, while everyone else remained locked in combat. In the middle of the field, various members of Team APEX and Team Mirage faced off against House Meridian, while near the far end, Storm Weavers traded blows with the Iron Guard.
Another rumble shook the arena as the quadrant to their left collapsed. Professor Rhyst's aide announced, "Six minutes remaining."
"We need to move. Our quadrant might be next," Jordan muttered.
"We can either take on the Iron Guards or Team Mirage," Maggie said, eyes scanning the arena. "Might make more sense to wait until Mirage deals with Meridian, though," Jordan added, watching the fight.
Nick followed their gaze just in time to catch something strange. Luz from Team Mirage, who had been hanging back to give directions, had just called out a new formation shift when Sasha from House Meridian—also lingering at the edge—started drifting toward her. Slow and casual. Too casual.
"Then there are some people who are just asking to be disqualified," Maggie muttered, tracking Sasha's path.
Nick nodded. "So we run the field, pick off whoever we can, and help our allies?"
"Yep. Regroup by the Storm Weavers," Maggie said.
Without another word, they sprinted across the arena—swift, light, and barely audible beneath the shouts of the brawl.
Sasha hadn't seen them coming.
Maggie ghosted in behind him and yanked the purple flag off his uniform before darting away. His suit blinked red—twice—and he froze, startled.
Luz, who'd been watching the fight between Obi from APEX and Francois from House Meridian, suddenly noticed Sasha so close.
Sasha himself turned, stunned, only to catch Nick's team already halfway across the field. He stood there for a beat, jaw tight, before walking to the arena's exit.
At the exit, he watched as his team fought on for what felt like a minute before their flags were removed one by one. The only consolation was that Louisa had managed to grab Luz's flag before she'd been disqualified.
As Nick, Jordan and Maggie neared the Storm Weavers, they saw each fight was evenly matched. Eli was locked in a tight exchange against Fergus, trading swift counters of jabs and strikes. Jackson faced Saren as they raced back and forth, circling each other in constant motion. Lucia danced around Everett, her movements sharp and evasive. Though Everett wasn't a slouch himself—he always sensed when Lucia was about to strike his back and moved almost inhumanly fast to block her. Finally, Liam faced off against Faith. They exchanged movements quicker than the regular human eye could follow.
"Incoming!" Nick called out, having been keeping an eye on Zora and Carmen's teams. Like he'd predicted, the ground where they'd previously stood began to rumble and the blue flag gate's section collapsed into the ground.
"Four minutes left," came the warning over the intercom.
Zora and Carmen's teams had been far enough away, but the distraction proved fatal to Obi, who had turned to look only for Greyson to grab the yellow flag from his back, causing his suit to blink red twice.
"That makes it fifteen people left. Seven more to be eliminated... Watch out!" Nick yelled, leaping backward and avoiding Lucia's lunge. It seemed she'd used the distraction of the floor falling to go for his flag.
As he narrowly escaped her grasp, she pivoted to try salvaging the surprise attack by grabbing either Maggie's or Jordan's flags. But both had already closed in. She couldn't return to the safety of her team since they were now three against four Iron Guards. As she began backing up slowly, keeping all three of them in her sights, Maggie suddenly kicked out, catching Lucia in the shins and causing her legs to give out. That was exactly the opening Maggie needed to dart in and take her orange flag.
"Thanks for the assist," Maggie said coolly, stepping back.
Lucia glared at them as she slowly got to her feet. Then she turned without a word and stalked toward the arena exit.
So much for being allies, Nick thought, watching her retreat as the intercom crackled: "Fourteen remaining, and now the Storm Weavers are on the back foot." Jordan called out, eyes narrowing as Everett swept Jackson's legs. Saren pounced instantly, ripping Jackson's orange flag from his back. Jackson's suit flashed red twice before he slumped in frustration.
"That leaves just Eli and Faith against a full squad of four," Jordan continued. "We should help. I'd hate to see Faith miss the top eight—she's a really good fighter."
"Oh she's a good fighter, huh?" Maggie teased, sidling up beside him. "Sure it's not just because she's hot?"
"Not the time, Maggie," Nick cut in.
"Jordan's right—Eli needs our help. Let's leave Faith and Liam alone," he said as they began walking toward the opposing teams. "They look like they're enjoying their matchup way too much for us to ruin it. You two take Everett—he's sharp with incredible awareness. You'll need to flank him. I'll help Eli."
"Sound good?" Nick asked.
"Aye aye, Captain," Maggie said, snapping him a sharp salute.
Nick rolled his eyes and took off sprinting, the other two catching up effortlessly. As they neared the fight, Eli was being methodically boxed in. Everett and Saren blocked his front, Fergus covered his right—he kept repositioning to keep them all in sight, clearly wanting to bolt but refusing to abandon Faith.
Nick saw his moment and accelerated.
Even then, Everett spotted him coming and shouted a warning, but it was too late. Nick ducked low, hooked Saren's ankle, and yanked her off balance. As she stumbled, he tore the red flag from her back in one smooth motion.
Before she could react, Nick rolled past her, leaped up and grabbed Fergus' arm, dragging him close and tearing his flag off lightning-fast.
Then he sprinted back to the middle of the arena before either could react.
"Two down, three more to go," Nick muttered, watching Maggie and Jordan move to flank Everett with Eli.
He took a moment to catch his breath, scanning the area for Zora and Carmen's teams. He spotted them just as Carmen and Greyson broke into a sprint, hot on the heels of Zora and Aiden.
The four of them were racing through the yellow gate's quadrant when the ground around the area began to tremble again. This time, it was everywhere except where he stood in the center of the arena.
Shit.
They're collapsing all the outer quadrants. Forcing us to fight. Nick's chest heaved. Three more eliminations and we're the only full team left. Fuck. Fuck!
"Jordan! Maggie! Forget Everett, get over here!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the rumbling arena.
The two broke off immediately, sprinting back to him. Behind them, Everett—distracted by the shout and the trembling ground—gave Eli the opening he needed to snatch the red flag from his back and bolt. Everett's suit blinked red twice, and he was out.
As they approached, Nick spoke quickly, his voice low and urgent. "We're the only full team left. That makes us a target. Two more people need to go, and we don't have anywhere to run since they're closing the quadrants. We need to—"
"Do it," Maggie said, turning to Jordan.
Without hesitation, Jordan reached out and tore the blue flag from Maggie's back, wrapping it around his wrist. Her suit blinked red twice.
"What the hell?!" Nick exploded. "Maggie—Jordan—what the fuck was that?"
Maggie's voice stayed calm. "Exactly what I told you earlier. I'm not as strong as you two in close combat. If someone's going to take me out, better it be you or Jordan than one of them."
She gave him a small, crooked grin. "It's an individual midterm, remember? I probably got a B+ or A-, so I'm good."
Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the arena's exit.
Nick stared after her, anger still buzzing in his chest. "When the hell did she plan this?" he asked, rounding on Jordan.
"She would've made the final eight," Jordan said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But you know Maggie. When she sets her mind on something..."
Then it clicked. Nick eyed the stands packed with first and second-years as well as faculty and staff from nearly every department, all watching intently.
"She's going to investigate," he said, the anger draining from his voice. "The disappearances. Some of the professors who accessed the Omega Archives are sitting in those stands right now."
Jordan nodded once. "Yeah, that was my thought too."
Nick sighed and shook his head. "Damn it. I just wish she'd told me first."
"Why?" Jordan shrugged. "You'd have gotten pissed, tried to stop her, and screwed all of us over."
"Fair point," Nick admitted as they both watched Maggie disappear into the exit tunnel.
"One more to go," Jordan said, turning back to the arena. "Who do you think it'll be?"
Nick scanned the students walking toward the center: Zora and Aiden on his right, Carmen and Greyson not far behind them. Faith and Liam were still trading blows even as they walked toward the group. They all shared one thing—each was a specialist in hand-to-hand combat.
Then he spotted Eli jogging toward them, flag still intact.
Nick grinned. "I almost feel bad for the guy since we'll be allies this weekend."
Jordan chuckled. "He's not an ally yet. And besides, this is an individual midterm."