Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 95: Eliza Runecaster [PART 2]

Astrid stood firm at her corner of the formation, maintaining the geometric integrity essential to their defensive strategy. As Hualing changed course and approached her position, nervousness bubbled in her stomach despite her best efforts to suppress it. When those crimson eyes locked onto hers, an involuntary shiver raced down her spine—a primal recognition of predator versus prey that transcended rational thought.

Still, Astrid clung to logical reassurance. I’m inside the barrier. Our formation is sound. She can’t reach me. The mantra steadied her hands as she continued weaving the rune patterns necessary for their collective defense.

Unexpectedly, Hualing’s gaze shifted from Astrid to the barrier itself, her expression transforming from predatory to clinically analytical. The sudden disinterest brought Astrid a wave of relief. Better she forget about me entirely, she thought, observing the crimson-eyed fighter’s intimidating presence. Even without overt aggression, something about Hualing’s demeanor—perhaps those unnaturally red eyes—evoked a sense of latent danger that set Astrid’s nerves on edge.

What happened next sent shock rippling through the entire arena. Instead of adjusting her tactics, Hualing simply drove her bare fist directly into the barrier’s edge with full force. The sickening sound of flesh tearing echoed across the platform as the magical barrier’s cutting energies sliced through her skin and muscle. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, spattering across the pristine platform surface.

From his vantage point, Ambrose couldn’t help but palm his face in exasperation. I told her to target the edges, not mutilate herself in the process, he thought. Does she truly have no sense of self-preservation?

Spectators gasped collectively, hands rising to cover mouths in horror. Even Eliza’s team momentarily lost concentration, their synchronized runic patterns faltering as they watched Hualing examine her mangled hand with disturbing detachment—as if the ravaged limb belonged to someone else entirely.

The true horror, however, was yet to come. The blood dripping from Hualing’s wound suddenly defied gravity, rising from the platform floor in sinuous streams. These crimson rivulets twisted through the air with apparent intelligence, weaving together to form thread-like structures that began meticulously stitching her torn flesh. The wound closed under this macabre self-surgery, leaving her hand intact but glistening with excess blood.

Rather than wiping this blood away, Hualing concentrated, manipulating the crimson liquid to coalesce in her palm. It stretched and solidified, transforming into a gleaming blood-red sword with a wickedly sharp edge. She tested its weight and balance with a few experimental movements before returning her attention to the barrier’s edge.

This time when she struck, the sound changed dramatically—a crystalline shattering that reverberated through the arena. The golden barrier fractured at its corner, magical fragments dispersing like illusory glass before dissolving into motes of light upon touching the ground. The impact sent Astrid flying backward, her concentration completely broken as she tumbled across the platform. Explore more stories at novelbuddy

Eliza frantically channeled emergency power to repair the breach, her fingers tracing desperate patterns in the air. But Hualing was already inside their defensive perimeter, a predator that had slipped past the gate. Without hesitation, she moved toward Soren with frightening speed, materializing before him with her blood-sword raised for a lethal strike.

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"~Not with the sword!" Ambrose’s mental command cut through her battle focus.

Instantly, the blood weapon liquefied, the crimson fluid flowing back into Hualing’s palm as it was reabsorbed. For a brief, hopeful moment, Soren believed himself spared—a misplaced optimism that evaporated when Hualing’s fist connected with his abdomen instead. The impact was precisely calculated—not enough to render him unconscious, but sufficient to create debilitating pain that effectively removed him from combat.

Soren collapsed to his knees, arms wrapped around his midsection, face contorted in agony. Though conscious, he might as well have been eliminated—the pain was too intense to maintain the concentration necessary for runic casting.

Hualing turned toward the formation’s remaining defenders with unhurried confidence. Her leisurely pace somehow proved more terrifying than a rush would have been—the calm certainty of a predator that knows its prey cannot escape. Finn and Freya felt ice settle in their veins as they watched her approach, their hands trembling slightly as they desperately tried to maintain what remained of their defensive formation.

At the rear, Eliza’s mind raced through possible countermeasures, but the cold reality was undeniable—their carefully constructed defense had been breached with frightening efficiency. The true battle was only beginning, and they were already losing.

…

Astrid remained sprawled on the platform where she had fallen, her body refusing to cooperate with any attempt to rise. As Hualing approached, Astrid’s heart hammered against her ribs, certain that her end had come. To her astonishment, Hualing simply strode past without sparing her a glance, as if she were no more significant than tournament debris.

Relief flooded through Astrid’s trembling form. Where others might have felt insulted by such dismissal, she embraced the lifeline it represented. Let her ignore me. Please, just let her forget I exist, she prayed silently. Any thought of rejoining the battle evaporated like morning dew. What difference could she possibly make now? The formation was broken, their strategy shattered. Astrid relaxed back onto the cool surface of the platform, feigning greater injury than she had sustained.

Hualing’s leisurely pace belied the predatory focus in her crimson gaze as she evaluated her next target. Finn, noticing her attention shift toward him, abandoned any pretense of continuing the fight. Panic overrode training as he turned to flee, his desperate scramble triggering something primal in Hualing’s response. Her casual stride transformed instantly into blinding speed, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat.

Before Finn could register her movement, Hualing executed a perfect sweeping kick that connected with devastating precision. His feet left the ground as his body described an arc through the air, landing with a dull thud several meters away. Though the impact sent pain shooting through his legs, the rest of him remained largely unharmed.

Finn lay motionless, one eye barely cracked open to observe Hualing’s reaction. He had noticed the pattern—those who stayed down were passed over. With deliberate stillness, he maintained his position on the ground, breath held as Hualing’s gaze swept over him. Just as he had hoped, she dismissed him as neutralized, shifting her attention to the remaining targets.

Freya watched Hualing’s approach with growing terror, her hands lifting in desperate defense as she began forming a complex cubic rune structure. Golden light coalesced between her palms, geometric patterns solidifying as she poured her remaining mana into the spell. But the incantation required precious seconds she simply didn’t have.

Hualing materialized before her, hands suddenly interlocking with Freya’s own in a twisted parody of partnership. The half-formed rune cube shattered between their joined hands, its carefully structured energy collapsing in chaotic discharge. Freya’s scream pierced the arena as magical backlash seared through her nerves, the failed spell’s energy rebounding through her system.

Without releasing her grip, Hualing applied steady downward pressure, forcing Freya to her knees as her strength failed against the overwhelming force. When Freya finally collapsed to the ground, she made the wise decision to remain there, abandoning further resistance. Hualing acknowledged this surrender by immediately turning away, her attention now fixed solely on the party leader.

Eliza had just managed to steady herself after absorbing the formation’s catastrophic failure. As the core anchor, she had suffered the worst of the backlash when their defensive structure collapsed. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, its metallic taste a sharp reminder of her vulnerability. With a defiant gesture, she spat a crimson droplet and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

Despite the odds, Eliza’s expression hardened with determination as she faced the approaching threat. Her hands rose in precise formation, fingers tracing intricate patterns that manifested as golden geometric constructs hovering between her palms. Complex runic equations materialized in concentric rings around her body, pulsing with concentrated magical energy.

Unlike her teammates, Eliza would not surrender without demonstrating the full extent of her capabilities. If defeat was inevitable, she would at least leave an impression worthy of respect. The golden light of her runes cast dramatic shadows across her face as she stared directly into Hualing’s crimson eyes, ready for the final confrontation.

Let her come, Eliza thought, magic humming through her veins. I may fall, but not without showing why I lead.

…

Leaks Corner:

[Name: Leon Steelheart]

[Level: C]

[Talent: null]

[Health: 4000/4000]

[Mana: 0/0]

[Strength: 45]

[Stamina: 40]

[Agility: 40]

—

[Name: Lysander Blackvale]

[Level: C]

[Talent: Arcane Dominion (Legendary)]

[Health: 1200/1000]

[Mana: 400/400]

[Strength: 8]

[Stamina: 12]

[Agility: 7]