Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

"This... this isn\'t possible!" another stammered, his voice rising in panic. His gaze flicked back and forth between Lucy and the charred ground, as if expecting to wake up from a nightmare. "He was a three-star mage! We all are! How could one girl do this?"

"She\'s just a new disciple," another man muttered, shaking his head in denial, his voice thick with disbelief. "The best a new disciple could be is two-star, at most. How could she have this kind of power? It doesn\'t make any sense!"

The fourth man, his face pale and beads of sweat forming on his brow, whispered, "She shouldn\'t even be able to touch us."

His voice was barely audible, as if he was afraid speaking louder would make the reality of their situation more terrifying. "We\'re top-ranked outer disciples, some of the strongest here. There\'s no way she should be able to do this."

The men exchanged nervous glances, the bravado they had displayed earlier now crumbling into raw fear. The smug confidence that had driven them to confront Lucy was rapidly evaporating, replaced by the stark realization that they had severely underestimated their opponent.

Meanwhile, Lucy, having just reduced the blonde man to ash, didn\'t waste a moment. Her predatory gaze zeroed in on her next target—a hulking bald man with a massive build.

Her lips curled into a ruthless smirk as she spoke, her voice dripping with icy confidence. "If you don\'t make your move, I\'ll be the one to strike first."

The bald man\'s eyes widened briefly in surprise before his face twisted into anger. He tried to mask his fear with a sneer, shouting back at her, "Don\'t think you can take me down that easily!"

His voice carried a desperate edge as he roared, "Stone Skin!" His skin transformed, hardening into a thick, rock-like surface that gleamed under the arena lights. He pounded his chest with renewed confidence, the sound echoing like a drum.

"Let\'s see if you can kill me now!" he bellowed, casting a quick, nervous glance at his comrades. "Get ready to attack once I\'ve got her down!" he ordered, his bravado barely concealing his fear.

But Lucy didn\'t flinch. Her smirk deepened, a cold glint of amusement in her eyes as she taunted him, her tone almost mocking. "Do you really think your pathetic little trick will save you?"

With a swift, decisive motion, Lucy propelled herself toward the bald man, her movements fluid and unyielding. Her fist connected with his stone-like skin, the force of the blow reverberating through his hardened exterior. The sheer power behind it sent him stumbling backward, his feet digging into the ground as he fought to keep his balance.

The bald man let out a bark of laughter, though it was strained, his attempt to sound confident faltering. "Is that all you\'ve got?" he jeered, but the bravado in his voice wavered, betraying the fear that was beginning to creep into his mind.

Lucy\'s smirk only grew more sinister, her eyes narrowing with icy determination. The air around her seemed to chill as she took a step forward, her voice calm but laced with an ominous undertone.

"Of course not," she replied, her words sending an involuntary shiver down the bald man\'s spine. "Now, this is the real one."

With a flick of her fingers, she whispered the word that would seal his fate. "Eruption."

The bald man\'s eyes widened in horror, but there was no time to react. In an instant, his body detonated in a violent explosion, the sheer force mimicking the volcanic eruption that had obliterated the short blonde-haired man earlier.

His triumphant laughter was abruptly silenced, replaced by the deafening roar of the explosion that tore his body apart, leaving nothing but scattered debris where he once stood.

Lucy straightened, her expression cold and unyielding as she turned her gaze to the remaining three men. Her smirk was chilling, dripping with menace as she spoke, her voice carrying an eerie calm. "Two down, three to go."

The smirk on her face sent a collective shudder through the audience. They had never expected such ruthlessness from a new disciple—especially a woman.

The shock of witnessing Lucy effortlessly kill two of the top 100 ranked disciples, even if they were the lowest-ranked, was overwhelming. The fact that she had done it so swiftly, with such brutal efficiency, left everyone in stunned silence.

Among the spectators were other senior disciples who breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that they hadn\'t crossed her path earlier. The realization that this seemingly innocent newcomer could be so deadly was enough to make even the most arrogant of them rethink their approach.

In the midst of the crowd, two figures stood out—Cedric Valen and Julian Margrave, both nobles who had entered the academy at the same time as Zeus and Lucy. Their eyes were glued to the arena, disbelief and frustration etched across their faces.

Cedric\'s brow furrowed deeply, his voice barely above a whisper as he muttered, "To think she\'s become this strong… It doesn\'t make sense."

Julian clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he cursed under his breath. "Damn it! A commoner, stronger than us? How can we allow this?" His voice was laced with anger, but beneath that anger was a layer of wounded pride.

Cedric turned to Julian, his usually composed demeanor slipping. "We\'ve trained just as hard, if not harder. How did she surpass us?" There was a mix of frustration and genuine confusion in his tone, as if trying to grasp how they had fallen behind.

Julian shook his head, a look of determination hardening his features. "It doesn\'t matter how. What matters is that we can\'t let it stay this way. We\'re nobles, Cedric. We have to be the best."

The rivalry between them was momentarily forgotten, replaced by a shared sense of inadequacy. The thought of being outdone by a commoner was intolerable. It gnawed at their pride, fueling a resolve they hadn\'t felt before.

Cedric\'s eyes narrowed as he nodded, a cold determination taking hold. "You\'re right. We need to get stronger. We can\'t afford to fall behind her."

Julian\'s lips curled into a tight, grim smile. "Then let\'s stop wasting time."

Without another word, the two nobles turned and left the arena, their minds unified by a single purpose: to train harder, become stronger, and reclaim the superiority they believed was their birthright.