Bullied Hollowborn: My Tribrid System Awakening

Chapter 12: Ranking Up

Richard's Pov

The arena buzzed with anticipation, a circular coliseum of sleek obsidian and glowing runes that pulsed with the energy of the Miracle Academy. Hundreds of cadets filled the stands, their voices a chaotic hum, while holographic screens projected the combatants’ names in blazing gold: Richard Kane vs. Kael Vortex, Rank 50. The monthly ranking battles were always a spectacle, a brutal dance of power and cunning where reputations were forged or shattered. Richard stood at the center of the arena, his dark hair plastered with sweat, his sharp and unyielding. Across from him, Kael Vortex grinned, his lean frame crackling with quantum energy, his silver cloak billowing as if caught in an unseen wind.

“Ready to lose, newbie?” Kael’s voice was smooth, taunting, his eyes glinting with confidence. “I’ll have you blinking out of existence before you can draw that fancy sword.”

Richard’s grip tightened on the hilt of his blade. He had picked this weapon since he was tired of using his hands for Null Counter. its edge shimmering with a faint, void-like aura. “Talk’s cheap, Vortex. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

The referee, an instructor with a stern face, raised a hand. “Begin!”

Kael vanished in a flash of violet light, the air rippling where he’d stood. Richard’s instincts screamed, and he pivoted, slashing upward as Kael reappeared behind him, a dagger aimed at his spine. The blades clashed, sparks flying, and Kael’s smirk faltered.

“Fast,” Kael muttered, teleporting again, this time swapping places with a boulder on the arena’s edge. The rock hurtled toward Richard, who rolled aside, the ground shaking as it crashed where he’d been.

“Null Drive,” Richard whispered, his free hand glowing with a dark, pulsating energy. He thrust it forward, and the air around Kael distorted, his next teleport fizzling out mid-cast. Kael stumbled, eyes wide, as Richard charged, slicing a shallow cut across his shoulder.

“What the—?” Kael snarled, swapping with a metal crate across the arena, putting distance between them. “How’d you disrupt my quantum field?”

Richard didn’t answer, his focus razor-sharp. Kael’s teleportation relied on syncing with objects, but Null Drive scrambled those connections, forcing Kael to hesitate. The crowd roared, sensing the shift. Kael’s grin returned, but it was strained now.

“Alright, Sol, let’s crank it up.” Kael’s hands glowed, and he began swapping rapidly, flickering between crates, boulders, and even a stray shield left in the arena, each swap launching debris at Richard. The onslaught was relentless, a storm of projectiles from every angle.

Richard ducked, weaved, and parried, his short sword a blur. “You’re predictable,” he grunted, dodging a flying slab of stone. He activated Null Drive again, this time wider, the dark energy rippling outward like a shockwave. Kael’s next swap failed, leaving him stranded mid-air. Richard seized the moment, leaping forward and slamming his blade's flat side against Kael’s chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

The referee’s voice boomed. “Match over! Richard Sol wins!”

The crowd erupted, some cheering, others muttering in disbelief. Kael lay sprawled, panting, his silver cloak torn. He glared up at Richard, who offered a hand.

“Good fight,” Richard said, his tone neutral.

Kael scoffed but took the hand, pulling himself up. “Don’t get cocky. Rank 50’s just the start. You’re in the deep end now.”

Richard nodded, sheathing his blade. “I’ll manage.”

As the arena cleared, Richard’s squad, Squad Seven, with the exception of Ara, rushed to meet him at the tunnel entrance. Gin clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. “That’s how you do it, man! Rank 50, just like that!”, Gin said with a light smile. He warmed up to me better than the first time I met him.

Nyx smirked. “Took you long enough. Thought you’d be stuck below 50 forever.”

“Very funny,” Richard said, brushing off his battered jacket. His eyes found Lena, who lingered at the group’s edge, her skin almost glowing under the arena lights, her silver eyes unreadable. “You okay?”

Lena nodded, her voice soft. “You did good out there. Kael’s no joke.”

“Neither was that Null Counter trick,” Gin said, grinning. “Where’d you learn to mess with quantum fields like that?”

“Practice,” Richard said, dodging the question. The truth was, he’d been experimenting with Null Counter’s limits for weeks, pushing its void-based disruption to counter abilities like Kael’s. But he wasn’t about to spill his secrets, not even to his squad.

“If you ever claw your way to the top 10, Sol, I’ll knock you right back down,” Caleb said, his eyes unreadable, like a storm waiting to break. He turned and walked off, leaving a chill in his wake.

I stood there, the weight of his words sinking in. Caleb’s grudge from the entrance exams still burned hot, and I’d been naive to think he’d softened toward me. The guy was a predator, biding his time.

Squad Seven split off, heading their own ways, but Lena fell into step beside me. Her usual quiet felt heavier, like she was carrying something too big to hide. I glanced at her, catching the tension in her eyes. “Something’s up. Talk to me.”

She hesitated, fingers twisting the hem of her cloak. “It’s… nothing. Just thinking.”

“Bull,” I said, stopping to face her. “You’ve been off since the match. What’s going on?”

She sighed, her breath visible in the cool air. “Can we go somewhere private?”

We veered toward the courtyard, a quiet spot where glowing cherry blossoms lit the night and a small fountain murmured. Lena sat on its edge, staring at the water like it held answers. I settled beside her, waiting.

“It’s my dad,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper. “You know he’s an Elite Awakened, right? High-tier, famous, the whole deal.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “You mentioned he’s a big shot. Never shows his face, though.”

“Never,” she echoed, bitterness sharp in her tone. “He’s… ashamed of me. Always has been. I’m half-Hollowborn, Richard. My mom was a Hollowborn woman he fell in love with. He doesn’t talk about her, but I know he loved her. And me? I’m the result. A walking reminder of his ‘mistake.’”

My jaw tightened, anger sparking in my chest. “That’s his screw-up, Lena, not yours.”

She gave a hollow laugh. “You’d think so. He sends everything—credits, gear, and training resources. Keeps me set, like clockwork. But he’s never looked me in the eye. Not once. I’m his dirty secret, the half-breed he can’t stand to own.”

“That’s…” I groped for words, the anger burning hotter. “That’s garbage. You’re not a secret. You’re one of the strongest cadets here. You’ve earned your spot.”

“Doesn’t always feel like it,” she said, her silver eyes glistening. “I watch people like Kael, or you, fighting, climbing ranks. And I wonder… what am I doing here? Trying to prove something to a man who doesn’t give a damn?”

I leaned forward, my voice steady. “You’re not here for him. You’re here for you. For Squad Seven. For the people who actually care. Your dad’s a coward if he can’t see what you’re worth.”

She looked at me, a faint smile breaking through. “You’re kind of intense when you’re mad, you know?”

“Only when it’s deserved,” I said, easing back. “I don’t know what it’s like to carry your burden, but you’re tougher than most. Those Hollowborn powers? You wield them like they’re yours, not a curse. That’s strength, Lena.”

She wiped her eyes, the smile holding. “Thanks, Richard. I mean it. I just… needed to say it out loud.”

“Anytime,” I said, standing. “Now come on, let’s get back.”

Her laugh, real this time, followed as she joined me, heading toward the dorms.

---

Morning came fast, and Squad Seven piled into the classroom, a sleek chamber with floating desks and a massive holographic board. The other first-years were already there, their chatter a mix of nerves and bravado. I slid into my seat beside Ara.

Her chilling presence and empty eyes made her extremely hard to talk to.

“Rank 50? Impressive.” she said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, thanks.,” I replied, glancing at Lena. She looked steadier today, but her eyes still held yesterday’s shadow.

The door hissed open, and Instructor Tarn stormed in, his face hard as stone. The room went quiet, his presence a hammer. Tarn was a war hero, a man who’d stared down beasts and demons and walked away. His footfalls heavy as he reached the front, his gaze slicing through us.

“Listen up,” he growled, voice like gravel. “You’ve been playing at ranking battles, scrapping for glory. That ends now. First-year exams are three weeks out.”

My pulse kicked up, the word “exams” hitting like a blade. The gateway to second year, a gauntlet that broke the weak. Nyx whispered, “No pressure, huh?”

I smirked, but my mind was spinning. Rank 50 was a win, but the exams were a beast of their own. I glanced at Lena, her jaw set as she stared at Varkis. She’d make it. Gin, Nyx, the others—they had what it took. I only had to worry about myself.

Tarn raised a hand, killing the murmurs. “These exams aren’t your little duels. They’re designed to crush you. Physical trials, mental tests, combat scenarios that’ll push you past breaking. Only the strong advance. Fail, and you’re gone. No retries.”

The air grew heavy, his words sinking in. He pressed on, relentless. “You’ll be tested alone and as squads. Teamwork, strategy, power—everything counts. Start preparing, because excuses won’t save you.”

A cadet in the back raised a hand. “Sir, what kind of trials?”

Tarn’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll know when you’re bleeding in them, cadet. Expect pain. Expect fear. Expect to regret ever coming here.”

Silence gripped the room. Tarn pulled up a schedule on the holographic board. “Training ramps up tomorrow. Mandatory sessions, daily. Miss one, and you’re docked points before the exams start. Dismissed.”

As we headed to the training fields, Tarn’s gaze lingered on me, cold and unreadable. A chill ran down my spine, not from the exams’ weight but from something darker. I’d been vocal at the interrogation. 

Had I run my mouth too much? Was Tarn’s stare a warning, a sign the council was circling? The academy was a machine, and I’d just painted a target on my back.