Bullied Hollowborn: My Tribrid System Awakening

Chapter Seven: Rankings Battle One

Richard's Pov

The ache in my ribs hadn’t faded. Neither had the bruises, or the humiliation, or Ara Ash’s words:

“You’re not ready.”

But she’d said something else too—something that stuck in my chest like a flame behind my sternum:

“You will be.”

Over the month, I reported to the Squad Seven sparring grounds, the mess hall, the law theory class, and tactical warfare. I constantly went to the training vault beneath the cadet barracks—a cold, quiet place made of etched stone and silence, where the academy allowed students to train their personal abilities alone.

I'd meditate to feel the glyphs stir beneath my skin. Call the Laws, not just the sacrificial laws, to activate my ability but the three other laws, which are elemental, constructive, and quantum laws.

I couldn't use the ability of other laws since I only had a sacrificial law core, but I could channel more laws and convert them to sacrificial law, strengthen my ability..

At first, they resisted, and my body would burn in agony.

But slowly, day by day, they began to answer.

Soon, my Rank rose to F+

I trained under continuously and sparred with team seven cadets.

They no longer went easy trying to gauge my strength and took me as a serious opponent.

I'd dragged my battered body back to the dorms and studied law formations long into the night after that.

Ara watched, sometimes. From a distance. Never saying a word.

Lena started asking questions.

“What do you feel when you use Null Drive?” she asked, one evening during cooldown drills.

“Like falling,” I said. “But sideways. Like everything collapses inward before I explode outward.”

She raised a brow. “Sounds terrifying.”

“It is.”

She grinned. “You’ll fit in.”

Gin didn’t speak to me after our first match. But I catch him watching me during drills. Measuring me like he’d seen something that unsettled him.

And Nyx, she ignored me with brutal elegance and cut through her drills like she was slicing down enemies, not shadows. But now and then, her gaze lingered just a bit too long when I sparred. Just long enough for me to know I hadn’t been dismissed entirely.

I stood in the center of one of the runed circles, heart pounding, eyes closed.

“Null Drive.”

The words left my lips like a secret I wasn’t meant to speak aloud.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then everything did.

The runes beneath me flared a dull gray, and the temperature in the chamber dropped like the void had opened its mouth to swallow the room. The lights above dimmed. Not because the bulbs failed—because the laws themselves receded. Pulled back. Suppressed.

I felt it pulse through me—like being caught in a thunderclap made of silence. My core strained, the glyphs etched along my ribs and spine igniting one by one. A numbing pressure swallowed my limbs, weighing down my thoughts, slowing my breath. My skin prickled, and blood trickled from my nose again.

Then it snapped. Like a door slammed shut.

I collapsed to one knee, gasping.

Still too much. Still unstable. But… It lasts way longer now.

Two weeks passed. Then came the summons.

I stepped into the mess hall just as the Monthly Challenge Board lit up in red fire. Everyone turned.

It was a ritual at Miracle Academy. Once a month, cadets could issue sanctioned combat challenges. Duels under law, bound by rules. You had the right to refuse—unless you were in the top 100.

Then you had to accept at least one.

I was rank 96.

The moment the flame turned gold, the names flooded in.

Challengers: 118

The room gasped.

I stared at the number.

One hundred and eighteen people wanted to fight me.

Ara glanced over from her table, expression unreadable.

Gin whistled low. “Popular guy.”

Lena leaned closer. “You broke through to F+. They smell blood.”

“They think I’m a fluke.”, I replied with an annoyed expression.

“They want you to prove yourself ,” she said softly. “Take someone safe. Beat them fast. You don’t need to prove anything. I know how hard you train.”, she said gently, touching my hand.

“I do.”, I said with determination

I walked to the board. Names shimmered in sequence—ranks, profiles, and wagered tokens.

One name glowed brighter than the rest.

Vincent Dune – Number 70 – Rank F+.

The same crest as the cadet who’d tried to humiliate me in the mess hall. This was his older brother.

I tapped his name.

Gasps echoed again.

“Rank seventy?” a cadet whispered. “He’s insane.”

“Vincent Dune is a Constrictive lawbearer with an ability called Matter shaping,” someone muttered. “He can reshape anything he touches. He trained under Master Koku of the famous Tiger guild.”

I didn’t hesitate.

Challenge Accepted.

The board locked in. Flames turned blue. Duel is scheduled for the end of the week.

Nyx exhaled. “You’re really going through with it. Brave Hollowborn.”

“I don’t get to hide,” I said. “If I want to stay, I need to do more than survive.”

The days bled together after that. My world narrowed into repetitions of different training.

I ran into Lena the next morning, when I finally surfaced from the vault to gulp air and maybe something resembling food.

She raised a brow when she saw me—sweat-soaked, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling faintly.

“You look like horrible.”, she spoke softly.

“Thanks.”, I replied, averting her gaze. Something about the way she looked at me made me feel exposed.

I realised that I might have misjudged her, but getting closer to her and understanding her background as a half awakened and half hollowborn has definitely bridged the gap.

She passed me a ration bar. “You training to die faster in your match with Vincent, or...?”

“I’m training to not die,” I said, tearing into the bar.

A pause. Then her voice softened.

“He’s not a joke, Sol. Vincent’s the real thing. He could have ranked higher if he didn't face Ara so early on in the entrance exams.”

“I know. I heard.”

Another pause. “You planning to use it?”

I met her eyes. “If I can hold it together long enough.”

She gave a small nod. “Then I’ll be there. Just to watch you burn.”

Her smile was faint. Almost genuine.

Everywhere I went, I heard whispers. Cadets betting on how fast I’d be knocked out. Others were wondering if I’d even show. Even instructors eyed me with wary calculation.

Gin cornered me outside the mess hall.

“You better not hold back,” he said. “If you do, you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t. But if you go down in the first minute, Team 7 will lose a lot of credits. For better or worse, you're one of us now.”

Fair enough.

Even Nyx tossed her opinion in one afternoon as she watched me spar against an automaton.

“You’ve improved,” she said lazily, watching as I disarmed the mechanical opponent and crushed its core with a burst of force. “Still raw. Still sloppy. But less embarrassing.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

She shrugged. “You’re not my responsibility. But...”

I looked at her.

“But what?”

She hesitated.

“But I'm watching. And if you disappoint me... I will make you regret it.”

Right. Of course. Nothing motivates like friendly threats.

Then came the scheduled day of my match

I got to the arena and looked at the challenge board.

I didn’t even need to check it again. I already knew the name blinking next to mine.

Vincent Dune. Number 70. Rank F+.

I’d accepted. There was no backing out now.

The day of the match felt like the air itself was holding its breath.

The academy’s dueling arena had been cleared of its usual sparring circles. In their place was a single reinforced ring, enclosed by shimmering law-barriers that pulsed in shades of blue and silver.

Instructors flanked every side, eyes sharp, datapads ready.

Students filled the upper bleachers. Squad Seven stood off to one side, each watching silently.

Gin. Nyx. Lena. Even Caleb.

Ara was at the top row, alone, arms folded, eyes like steel.

When I stepped into the ring, silence followed me.

Then came the laughter.

Vincent entered the opposite end like a noble stepping onto a ballroom floor. Blonde, sculpted, confident. His body shimmered with as the laws formed a colorful aura around him.

The emblem of the Dune bloodline was on his chest: three interlocked circles.

He grinned when he saw me.

“Brave of you to show.”, he said with a cocky smile.

“Would’ve been rude not to,” I said.

“Hmm. I wonder if they’ll let you keep your rank after this.”

I said nothing.

The duel overseer—a tall woman with sharp green eyes and a robe marked with eight glowing sigils—raised her voice.

“Standard single-duel rules. Law use permitted. Artifacts restricted. No lethal intent allowed.”

She looked at me.

“Cadet Sol. Do you accept the terms?”

“I do.”

She turned to Issak.

“Cadet Dune?”

He smiled. “Gladly.”

The overseer raised one hand. “Begin!.”