As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra

Chapter 238: Rivals



Chapter 238: Rivals

[ACC Federation Stadium – Various Arenas – Aftermath of First Matches]

The other teams stood frozen in their respective arenas, their own matches forgotten, all attention drawn to the carnage being carried away from Arena One.

Medical teams rushed past with stretchers bearing the injured Westridge Academy students – one with a disfigured face that barely resembled human features anymore, two with spear wounds that had cauterized from fire even as they went through bodies, others missing limbs that had been severed with surgical precision.

A collective chill ran through every student who witnessed it.

’That could have been us.’

The thought was universal, unavoidable and settled into their bones with cold certainty.

****

[Arena Two – Imperial Academy]

Cassius Eckhart stood with his arms crossed, his black hair catching the stadium lights, his grey eyes – the distinctive mark of House Eckhart – studying the scene with analytical precision.

He’d just finished his own match moments ago, having single-handedly destroyed their opponents in what he’d thought was an impressive display of dominance.

And then he’d heard about Arena One.

Five seconds!

The number felt like a personal insult.

Victor Cross stood nearby, still pale-faced, his entire body rigid as he stared at the tunnel where Damian had disappeared just recently.

His hands were clenched so tightly his nails had drawn blood from his palms, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

Cassius approached him, his voice carrying that particular blend of curiosity and calculation that defined Imperial heirs.

“You never mentioned they had such strong first-years. Not just that Damian fellow everyone talks about, but five unknown students who can coordinate like veteran soldiers.”

He gestured toward Arena One where cleanup was still ongoing.

“And all of them were using SS rank weapon arts. Mind you, these aren’t just any weapon arts. They’re principle-based – elemental principles specifically. Water, fire, earth, wind alongside that unique spatial manipulation. Do you understand what that means?”

Victor’s jaw clenched, his voice coming out tight and controlled.

“I was expelled the moment I returned from the battlefield missions. I had no chance to observe their training or development after that.”

The admission carried weight – failure and humiliation.

Other Imperial heirs gathered around them, drawn by the conversation and the spectacle they’d all witnessed.

A girl with distinctive pink hair and matching eyes – Sophia Verratoux, from one of the thirteen Imperial Families – spoke up with amusement in her voice.

“Well, this certainly makes the tournament more interesting than we anticipated. I was worried it would be boring without Elizabeth Murdock competing.”

A boy with green hair and eyes – David Evergreen, from Evergreen Imperial Family – nodded thoughtfully.

“That Zavier fellow concerns me. You all heard his words. He’s dangerous to us in ways that have nothing to do with combat capability.”

Another heir from Royce Imperial Family – Ben Royce, his fiery orange hair marking him as fire-principle specialized, laughed.

“Dangerous is exactly what makes this exciting! I want to face them. I want to see their suffer!”

A student from House Kingsley – Raymond Kingsley, wind-principle bloodline showing in his perpetually windswept blonde hair – added his perspective.

“The real question is whether that performance was peak capability or baseline. If they can fight like that consistently, we have a problem. If that was everything they had, they’ll burn out by round three.”

Cassius considered all the input, his analytical mind working through scenarios and probabilities.

“Either way, this tournament just became significantly more competitive. We can’t afford to underestimate Stormhold anymore, regardless of their team composition.”

His grey eyes found Victor again.

“You have personal history with their Vice President. What’s your assessment of him?”

Victor’s face went even paler if that was possible, memories of his humiliation flooding back.

“He’s… he’s not normal.”

The other Imperial heirs exchanged glances, sensing there was more to this story than Victor was saying.

****

[Arena Three – Skyreach Academy]

The President of Skyreach Academy – Alexander Vance, dark brown hair and eyes – stood with his team, all of them processing what they’d witnessed.

Around him clustered students from various Noble families, the top hundred families that served beneath the thirteen Imperial houses, all wearing the crimson and white colors of Skyreach.

“Did anyone get clear footage of that spatial teleportation?” Alexander’s voice was clinical, professional and already thinking about counters and adaptations.

One of his teammates nodded.

“The girl with the katana activated it – Ariana Sterling, first-year, spatial innate skill confirmed. She moved four teammates simultaneously across the arena in an instant.”

“Teleportation changes everything tactically. It means their positioning is never fixed. Any strategy based on controlling space becomes worthless if they can just relocate at will.”

Another teammate added grimly.

“Combined with that ice-arrow user’s sensory abilities, they have perfect battlefield awareness and instant repositioning. That’s a nightmare combination to face.”

Alexander’s expression remained calm, but his mind was racing through potential counters.

’My Imperial Family specializes in vitality and endurance. Our Imperial Skill focuses on defensive shields that can absorb tremendous punishment. If we can’t prevent their teleportation, we need to make it meaningless by being too durable to hurt.’

“We proceed as planned. Focus on defense, outlast their burst damage, wait for exhaustion to set in. Even principle-based SS rank weapon arts have limits. They are only C- rank awakeners.”

****

[Arena Four – Darksky Academy]

Jonathan Thorne stood with his arms behind his back, his golden hair and golden eyes – House Thorne’s bloodline – practically glowing in the arena lights.

He was a cousin to the main Thorne line, not quite as prestigious as someone like Michael Thorne, but still carrying the family’s distinctive features and power.

“That was excessive,” one of his teammates muttered.

Jonathan shook his head slowly.

“No… That was a message to us, to everyone watching and to every Academy here. That Stormhold isn’t just participating – they’re making a statement about what commoners can achieve when properly trained.”

His golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“The question is whether their message holds up when facing Imperial bloodline abilities.”

He activated his own Aura briefly – golden light that felt warm and righteous and absolutely overwhelming.

“We’ll see how their coordination handles my divine constructs.”

****

[Arena Five – Republic Academy]

President William stood with his predominantly commoner team, all of them wearing expressions mixing shock, hope, and vindication.

“Did you see that?” His voice carried barely contained excitement. “Did everyone see that?!”

His teammates were grinning, the tension that had filled them before their own match completely evaporated.

“Five first-years just destroyed experienced fourth-years in five seconds! All commoners!”

One of his teammates – a girl with brown hair and determined eyes – spoke up with emotion thick in her voice.

“We’re not alone anymore. For the first time in tournament history, we’re not the only Academy representing commoners on the main stage. We have allies!”

William’s smile was genuine, warm and completely different from the calculating expressions on the Imperial heirs’ faces.

“This changes everything. Even if we don’t win – and let’s be honest, our chances aren’t great – we’re not fighting alone anymore. Every match we win, every point we score, it’s not just for Republic Academy. It’s for every commoner watching who’s been told they can’t compete.”

His team gathered closer, their solidarity obvious and heartfelt.

“Let’s show them what we can do. Let’s make this tournament remember that commoners can fight!”


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