Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby novel Chapter 271

Chapter 271: The Final Round

The first day of the final round of the competition was unfolding with grand fanfare. Professors, instructors, and academy staff filled the main auditorium, watching each bout projected live onto a colossal screen. Twelve matches ran simultaneously, each displayed in a separate section of the screen.

Cadets who hadn’t made it into the top twenty-five were still permitted to spectate from the second-floor gallery, their cheers and murmurs blending with the buzz of the crowd below.

Eleanor had already won her first four matches of the day. Her second victory had been the most notable... a hard-fought duel against Rohan Harivamsa, widely regarded as the strongest of the younger generation from India’s Harivamsa Clan. His affinity for ice and mastery of the spear made him a formidable opponent, but in the end, Eleanor’s precision and adaptability carried her through.

Her third win came against a Merfolk, and her fourth against a vampire. Both were tough, but she had prepared for them. Yet her final match of the day was of a different calibre altogether.

Her opponent was Barrock Ironhide... a member of the Ironhide Clan, a Stone Dragon renowned for their resilience and overwhelming physical strength. His ability to negate lightning spells made him a natural counter to Eleanor’s elemental power. A true nemesis, if ever there was one.

After her fourth match, Eleanor took a moment to steady herself. This one, she decided, she would fight with everything she had. Winning wasn’t guaranteed, but that wasn’t the point... even if she "died" in the simulation, she’d lose nothing but stamina and pride. Her spirit would recover after a night’s rest. This was the perfect chance to measure her real progress.

When she entered the arena, Barrock Ironhide was already standing in the centre of the duelling platform... a solid, immovable figure, his twin war hammers slung across his shoulders. His presence alone was like that of a mountain come to life.

Eleanor stepped up onto the platform, the sound of her boots echoing softly against the stone. She took her place opposite him. Neither spoke. They simply regarded one another in silence, the air between them tense and expectant.

Then came the automated voice of the referee system:

"Countdown initiated."

10... 9... 8...

Eleanor exhaled slowly, her hands already crackling faintly with static.

3... 2... 1... Go!

Eleanor knew she was at a disadvantage in this fight, so she chose to move first. Without hesitation, she charged forward at full speed, testing her opponent’s reactions. Her feet barely skimmed the stone floor, leaving faint traces of blue-white sparks in her wake.

Barrock didn’t flinch. His eyes tracked her every motion, his massive frame turning with a slow, inexorable grace that betrayed both confidence and experience.

Her first strike was a probing jab, fingers slicing through the air like a blade aimed at his throat. He didn’t block it. Instead, he tilted his head a fraction, just enough for the strike to whistle past his ear. The air crackled where her fingertips had been... Voltaic Strikes were already charging through her limbs, humming beneath her skin.

Barrock responded with a lazy sweep of his left hammer. It wasn’t meant to hit her; it was a warning. The hammerhead tore through the air with a deep whoosh, the sheer force of it creating a pressure wave that forced Eleanor to retreat, her silver hair whipping around her face.

"You’ll have to do better than that to defeat me... if you even can," Barrock said, his tone cold and indifferent.

"I’m just getting warmed up," Eleanor replied, her voice calm but edged with challenge. "Don’t get complacent too soon. Let’s see who’s standing at the end."

Even as she spoke, she activated Mind Acceleration.

The world slowed. She could see the minute tremors in his calves as he shifted his weight, could predict the angle of his next hammer swing half a second before it began. Every sound became sharper, every detail painfully vivid.

She darted in again... this time using Bolt Step. There was no visible motion, only the sudden snap of displacement. One moment she was five metres away, the next she was inside his guard, her leg sweeping low for his knee... a strike that would have shattered the joint of any other cadet.

The world dissolved into shattered stone and agony. Her quick reflexes saved her from a fatal impact, but not from the force. Every bone in her body screamed. Her heart thundered, flooding her veins with adrenaline and defiance, forcing her battered body to move. She rolled aside as his other hammer came down, pulverising the spot where her head had been moments before.

She scrambled back, her left arm hanging uselessly, the bone clearly fractured. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Across from her, Barrock spat a mouthful of crimson onto the stone. A deep bruise was already spreading across his jaw, and one of his teeth was chipped.

She endured the pain and, with a guttural roar, snapped her elbow back into place. Her superior regeneration began knitting the bone, though the process was slow and excruciating.

Barrock’s own draconic vitality worked to absorb the blow, but the concussive force of her strike... amplified by his own Stone Shatterer passive reflecting some of the damage back... had clearly rattled him.

"You hit hard," he grunted, adjusting his grip on the hammers.

"You’re slow," she shot back, her voice tight with pain.

Barrock triggered his first active skill. He stomped down...Tectonic Shift. The ground beneath Eleanor convulsed like an earthquake. A violent wave of force burst outward from his foot, fracturing the granite as if it were glass. She tried to Bolt Step away, but the instability of the platform shattered her footing. She stumbled... just enough.

He was on her in an instant, his hammers a whirlwind of destruction. She caught one with her good arm, the impact numbing her from wrist to shoulder. The second hammer grazed her side, and she felt her ribs give way with a sickening crunch. A cry tore from her throat... a sound somewhere between a scream and a snarl. Her Bloodlust Instinct ignited, the pain sharpening into a razor’s edge of focus.

She activated Mental Lock in an instant. Her focus contracted until only her opponent existed. The world dimmed to a blur of motion and noise... everything except Barrock. His movements, the flow of his energy, the minute contractions of his muscles... all of it became crystalline, precise, inevitable.

She stopped trying to outmanoeuvre his defences. Instead, she focused on striking at their source.

Eleanor pushed her mind into overdrive and caught the faintest lag as Barrock shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She saw the almost imperceptible strain in his shoulder after a powerful swing.