Psychic Overlord

BOOM!

CRASH!

BANG!

There were continuously explosions all over the arena, appearing in places that seemed random and had nothing to do with each other, separated by more then a few meters each time.

To a normal person, it would seem chaotic, messy and fear inducing, like malfunctioning special effects for a stage entrance, but to those who were espers with the slightest ability, they could see that these points of explosions were the places where a blue blur of lightning clashed with a green blur that was slightly larger, the ensuing energy output from the clash causing the explosions.

Many people were struggling to keep up with the scene and had to rely on technology while one could see that whether it was the silver division up to the special echelon, the supreme force box, the heirs pavilion and the instructors bench, all these people were either standing or seated in placed with their arms folded, their eyes darting about.

Looking at them, one would think that they had gone cray, but if one compared the movement of their eyes to the situation on the field, they could see that these people were able to perfectly follow the high speed battle occurring that had surpassed normal human cognition.

High in the stands, Lysandra’s voice had vanished and even the commentator booths had gone quiet as Anchor Tae Ishi and Ferron Blaze were frozen mid-breath.

And on the field, the fight raged on.

KRAKOOM!!

A massive green bolt smashed into the air and was promptly deflected mid-flight by a spiraling sphere of blue lightning that bent the shot upward before detonating in the sky, sending arcs of light over the shield dome.

Then came the real clash.

Kaizer reappeared behind Tyrron, fist cocked and glowing with condensed force.

Tyrron twisted, eyes wide with mania, and intercepted with a back elbow.

CRACK!!

Both were flung backward, sliding across the stone platform, but neither gave ground.

Tyrron’s grin was crazed, body now pulsing with deeper emerald lightning. His veins were glowing, muscles flexed to maximum capacity as his power grew endlessly.

"You’re tough, Overlord! Let’s see how long that head stays on your neck!" He bellowed.

Kaizer’s hair was windswept, his jacket fluttering from residual pressure as sparks coiled around his limbs like the world’s nervous system was pulsing through him.

"You’re not even close to your limit yet, so stop pretending that you’re losing." Kaizer said neutrally, eyes narrow.

Tyrron’s face lit up with a wolfish grin. "You wanna see it, huh?! The don’t regret what comes next!"

Tyrron stomped both feet down and spread his legs apart, entering something akin to the horse stance.

"RRRAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!" He roared crazily, the sound causing the alarms of the arena to trip and reduce the volume to protect the ears of the audience.

The platform beneath Tyrron exploded, lifted into the air as green lightning shot skyward in a towering pillar. His aura flared like a volcanic geyser that was completely untamed, primal, very terrifying.

His Earth Lightning now surged with a second rhythm, every pulse accompanied by seismic shocks.

From the crowd below, students were vomiting from the sheer pressure of his esper energy that he was radiating, their faces filled with fear and shock.

In response to this, Kaizer didn’t charge forward.

He raised one hand and his blue lightning coiled into a sphere that soon bent and reformed into a spear.

"Psychic Construct: Piercing Will." Kaizer muttered coldly.

He spun it once and pointed it at Tyrron.

"I’ve seen it before. Rage makes you stronger."

Kaizer’s tone dropped.

"But I’ve also seen what happens when you let it control you. You will be tamed."

At a peak moment, the two charged at each other at the same time, clashing in the center and causing the platform to shatter instantly.

Kaizer hurled his spear at blinding speed while Tyrron tried to weave it, but the bolt curved mid-flight, pursuing him like a guided missile.

Kaizer appeared above his foe, knee dropping like a comet.

Tyrron blocked—barely—and was sent crashing through two levels of the arena before flying back up like a green missile.

"YOU WANNA LECTURE ME?!" Ragnar roared crazily, fists blazing.

They clashed midair again, fists meeting in bursts of colored lightning, each impact a thunderclap that made the stadium flicker with distorted light.

Kaizer dodged a haymaker, vanished behind Tyrron, and slammed a palm into his back.

BZZZTTT-BOOOOM!!!

Tyrron’s body spiraled downward, skidding across the floor like a meteor until he slammed into the central pillar of the stage.

The obsidian stage partially collapsed as dust rose up, leaving the audience in complete stupefied silence.

Then a figure rose from the rubble.

Tyrron’s shirt was gone as his torso glowed with flickering emerald light, eyes now completely feral, power surging uncontrollably.

"Now I’m angry!"

He launched again and so did Kaizer.

.................

The fight raged on below, a fusion of chaos and raw esper power that was at the peak of the known world.

Parts of the arena visibly melted while two kinds of lightning streaked across the stage crazily.

It was no wonder mythology called espers ’gods’, because how could ancient mortals comprehend such a display of power?

And for once, the instructors said nothing.

A rare silence had fallen over the upper deck, where the Academy’s finest minds and teachers sat shoulder-to-shoulder, each one an esper of national, if not international, and fame at least at the B rank.

None of them dared to blink nor speak.

Then— FWUUUUM.

A soft breeze rolled across the observation row that didn’t come from the arena or from anyone within.

Rather, space itself had been parted like curtains drawn open for a important guest.

And stepping through it, hands in his pockets, chewing lazily on a stick of dried jerky, was a tall man in a long gray coat and traveler’s boots. His loosely tied ponytail swayed behind him as he blinked at the battlefield like someone arriving late to a party.

Carlisle Freed.

"Oh? They started already?" He said mildly, raising a brow as the sky cracked from a punch from Tyrron.

Lysandra didn’t even turn. "Well, look who decided to show up."

The other instructors stirred, looking over with wariness and respect.

Dean Rochester chuckled, eyes still on the battlefield. "I was wondering when you’d arrive. You’re just in time for Stage 2."

Carlisle leaned over the edge, eyes tracing the blur of emerald rage below.

"Ahh... so the kid finally popped it, huh?"

Madam Sylvia turned and glared. "You could’ve warned us he was this unstable!"

Carlisle scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Come on, Sylvie. He’s a growing boy. Let him express himself!"

"Express?! He nearly vaporized the a megadome in Beta City last month during his mission!" She snapped, swatting at him gently with no force behind it.

Carlisle smirked, dodging her swat. "And you’re still mad about it? You repaired the damage in, like, twenty minutes."

Sylvia roared. "He almost turned my silk office carpet into a volcano when he accidentally released some his power!!"

"You’re exaggerating. It was just a crater and it was that brat Tessa fault for provoking him." Carlisle defended bravely.

She lunged to choke him as he yelped and leaned back so hard he nearly tripped over the railing, only for Dean Rochester to place a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Please don’t die before telling us the rest," the Dean said mildly.

Carlisle grunted, brushing himself off. "Right, right. So, about Stage 2 right? That is where Tyrron’s Earth Lightning begins mimicking volcanic plasma. It’s still unstable, but fast enough to break sound."

He pointed downward. "We’re seeing it now. But Stage 3..."

He paused, then whistled.

"...Stage 3 is when he compresses all that energy into high-velocity beams. Think lightning punches that pierce reality instead of just smashing it."

Madam Sylvia folded her arms. "And Stage 4?"

Carlisle’s face grew more serious.

"Stage 4... is the Critical Point. He stops being just a kid with power and enters something closer to a myth."

He looked to the Dean.

"That’s when he forms the Avatar of Earth Lightning. A humanoid shell of pure elemental will."

"A Susano’o?" Lysandra asked dryly.

"Exactly, but one that gets angrier the longer it fights." Carlisle nodded.

Below, another thunderclap shook the stadium.

Kaizer had just narrowly dodged a lightning-coated knee strike, then countered with a mid-air rotation kick.

As a result, both were knocked away by their own feedback, dragging grooves in the ground of the arena.

Carlisle smiled faintly. "This is gonna be wild."

"Do you think he’ll hit Stage 3?" Dean Rochester asked.

Carlisle exhaled. "Depends on how much Kaizer pisses him off."

Madam Sylvia scoffed and folded her arms. "That won’t take long, that boy radiates smugness."

Dean Rochester chuckled. "And you adore him for it."

Sylvia blushed furiously. "I do not!"

Carlisle raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pink thermos labeled Kaizer’s Tea sitting beside her chair.

"...You made him tea?"

"Shut. Up." She hissed.

Carlisle laughed again and leaned back, gazing out at the battlefield.

"Let’s see if the Overlord... can make a god bleed."