SSS Class Awakening: I Can Forge My Beast Soul Avatars
Chapter 30: Shadow and Iron

Chapter 30: Shadow and Iron

Atlas stepped across the threshold onto the cold stone floor, but his mind remained tangled in the warning Cassandra had left behind.

He gripped his wrists tightly, the uncertainty gnawing at his focus with every step forward.

’What am I supposed to do here? Should I actually listen to her and forfeit this match? Or do I push through? I can’t even tell if I should trust her intentions in the first place.’

He squeezed his fists until his knuckles turned white, taking a sharp, cold breath to force the panic down.

Whatever Cassandra had overheard in the concourse, he couldn’t let lingering doubts paralyze his instincts now.

From the dark archway at the far end of the amphitheater, his opponent emerged.

Unlike Atlas, whose cautious movements betrayed his internal friction, the Class 5D fighter walked with a chilling, absolute stillness. His body moved with eerie efficiency, his face completely swallowed beneath the deep hood of his navy uniform.

No hesitation. No thrill. No interest at all.

He simply glided toward the central ring like a ghost going through the motions.

"Both competitors, step up to the boundary mark so we can begin," the referee instructed, his hand resting near his whistling whistle.

The roaring crowd gradually settled into a hush, hundreds of eyes following the two figures closing the distance.

Atlas came to a stop five paces from his mark.

"I assume both of you are fully briefed on the regulations, so I won’t waste breath repeating them," the referee stated, his sharp gaze cutting between the two. "Any violation means instant forfeit and disciplinary action. Understood?"

Neither student uttered a sound. They simply offered identical, subtle nods.

The referee took three deliberate steps back, raising his right arm high into the air.

For one suspended second, the massive arena fell deathly silent.

FWEET!

"The second match between Atlas and Gregory is officially underway!"

The referee immediately leaped backward, clearing the immediate radius.

Atlas reacted on pure instinct. He executed two quick, spring-loaded hops backward, widening the gap between himself and Gregory to maximize his reaction time.

Cassandra’s warning echoed loudly in his mind.

’First, open the distance. Don’t let him close in before I’m ready. Then summon Skull.’

The moment his boots planted into the stone, he reached deep into his Soul Forge, pulling on the dark anchor within his chest.

"Come forth, Skull!"

A swirl of thick, ink-black shadow surged onto the flagstones beside him. The skeletal wolf materialized seamlessly, its heavy bone paws digging into the pale stone as its both crimson eyes flared to life.

Atlas dropped into a low, defensive stance, preparing for an immediate charge.

Then he noticed something deeply wrong. Gregory hadn’t moved a single muscle.

He remained standing precisely where he had been when the whistle blew, his long arms dangling motionless at his sides beneath his baggy sleeves.

’Why isn’t he taking a stance?’ Atlas narrowed his eyes, every instinct on high alert.

Slowly, the shadow beneath Gregory’s hood split open, revealing a faint, razor-thin smirk.

At that exact second, a thick, blood-red mist began bleeding out from the air behind him.

Atlas’s heart spiked.

The mist was dense, unnaturally heavy, and streaked with veins of obsidian blackness. It churned and pulsed like a living organ, spilling across the stone floor in a rapid, creeping wave behind Gregory.

The raw, oppressive aura radiating off the vapor sent a cold shock down Atlas’s spine.

’What kind of magic is that?’

Atlas dropped his hand, resting his palm firmly against the cold bone plating of Skull’s neck to stabilize his partner.

But the moment his skin made contact with the bone, a shockwave of raw emotion flooded back through their soul bond.

Fear.

It wasn’t simple aggression or wild excitement. Skull was sensing an apex threat.

"What is it, boy?" Atlas whispered under his breath.

Skull immediately retreated two paces, his claws leaving jagged white scratches in the masonry as a guttural, vibrating growl rumbled from his hollow chest.

Atlas’s eyes widened.

Inside the red mist, something shifted.

WHOOSH!

Without a fraction of warning, a squat, dark shape shot out of the churning crimson cloud like a heavy cannonball, flying straight for Atlas’s chest.

"Up!"

Atlas reacted on pure reflexive training — dropping his center of gravity and executing a crisp, lateral barrel roll across the stone.

At the same instant, Skull launched himself upward, throwing his jaws wide. His skeletal teeth clamped down hard around the midair projectile.

Skull slammed heavily onto the arena floor with the creature locked in his jaws, the kinetic impact blowing a ring of pulverized stone and thick dust into the air.

A cloud of white chalk swallowed both beasts. The audience erupted into a chaotic roar.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Did you see how fast it moved?!"

"Where did he summon that from?!"

Atlas scrambled back to his feet, shielding his eyes as he stared into the swirling dust cloud.

Slowly, the obscurity cleared, revealing the creature clamped in Skull’s jaws.

Atlas’s breath hitched.

The beast was roughly the size of a mountain badger, but its frame was built like a reinforced iron vault wrapped in filthy, soot-gray fur.

Matted clumps of coarse hair stuck out in ragged tufts, giving it an unkempt, violent appearance.

Its hide didn’t look like skin — it hung in thick, rubbery folds over its body, resembling worn, weathered leather plates hardened by decades of trauma.

Its broad, flat head featured a heavily scarred snout, tiny, pitch-black eyes, and an open snarl that displayed rows of short, blunt, chisel-like teeth designed for grinding bone to powder.

Its short, bowed legs ended in wide, heavy paws tipped with blunt, dirt-caked claws.

It carried no elegance, no noble posture, and no striking aura.

Yet the sheer density of its presence felt far more suffocating than anything Atlas had faced on the training grounds.

’This is going to be a nightmare...’

Skull shook his head violently, trying to crush the creature’s neck before tossing it back onto the stone.

Atlas’s eyes locked onto the fallen beast, and froze. There wasn’t a single puncture mark on its hide. Not a single drop of blood.

’What?’

Atlas stared in absolute disbelief. ’Skull’s jaw pressure can crush solid timber. He clamped down with full force... and it didn’t even leave a scratch?’

His gaze sharpened as the implications settled in. ’What kind of absurd defense is that skin made of?’

The gray creature didn’t waste a second. It lowered its heavy body, its thick rear legs coiling beneath its weight like compressed steel springs.

Atlas recognized the posture immediately. ’It’s pouncing again!’

"Skull, back off! Keep your distance!"

Skull obeyed instantly, dissolving into a streak of shadow to retreat five meters.

Atlas’s internal alarm was screaming at maximum volume.

’I have no idea what the limits of that beast are, but direct physical trades are useless right now. I need to keep Skull mobile and test its speed.’

His eyes flicked rapidly across the elevated spectator balconies, searching for his instructor.

Nothing.

Mr. Crosswell’s assigned chair near the perimeter was completely empty.

He scanned the upper tiers again. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen either.

’Tch. Where did they go?’

Atlas’s jaw set tight. ’If Cassandra’s warning was accurate, this match is going to cross the line fast, and I have zero backup.’

Before the thought could even finish, the gray beast launched itself forward, cutting through the air like a lead bullet aimed straight for Skull’s throat.

"Phase!"

Skull reacted on the instinct honed through their morning drills. His physical form collapsed into a flat, liquid puddle of shadow on the floor.

The heavy creature sailed through the empty air where his neck had been a fraction of a second prior.

A heartbeat later, Skull erupted directly out of the creature’s landing shadow beneath its belly, his jaw locking around its exposed torso mid-descent.

The concussive crack echoed clearly across the quieted arena.

Atlas braced himself to see crushed ribs.

Instead — nothing.

The creature didn’t even let out a grunt of pain. It simply twisted midair, using its low center of gravity to absorb the momentum, landing heavily on all four broad paws three meters away.

Atlas felt a cold bead of sweat roll down his neck. ’What the hell is that thing made of?’

"Skull’s tapping into his shadow affinity remarkably well," Atlas muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes glued to the grey beast. "It’s barely been a week since I forged him, and his movement speed is where it needs to be."

His face hardened into a grim line. "But raw mobility isn’t going to break through an iron vault."

He stared at the soot-gray hide. ’Skull’s bite force can shatter bone plates. Yet this thing absorbed a full-power bite to its softest area and walked it off like a minor annoyance. How is its biological frame capable of negating that much shock?’

Atlas’s brow furrowed tightly. "This defies basic physical logic."

"Of course it does."

A raspy, low voice spoke from directly behind his left shoulder.

Atlas’s entire body went rigid.

His hand darted into his pocket on pure survival instinct, his fingers locking around the hidden emergency weapon he had stashed away before the match. He spun on his heel, creating instant separation.

Gregory was standing less than three meters behind him, having crossed the ring without making a single sound.

The deep hood still masked the upper half of his face. But from the shadowed opening, a wide, unsettling smile stretched across his pale skin, exposing sharp, uneven teeth.

"My beast wasn’t bred from ordinary lineage," Gregory purred softly, his voice carrying a dark, unnatural resonance.

His grin stretched even wider, pulling the skin tight across his cheekbones.

"It’s going to take a miracle for a low-tier tamer like you to survive this match..."

His pale eyes gleamed like cold embers from beneath the dark fabric.

"...let alone save your pathetic little shadow once my companion starts breaking its bones."

Atlas held his ground, his grip tightening around the hidden weapon in his pocket.

For the first time since stepping into the amphitheater, the deafening roar of the audience completely ceased to exist.

All that remained was the low, vibrating growl of Skull standing behind him, and the quiet, chilling laugh of the boy standing in front of him.