Ian's grip tightened on the shaft of his spear, knuckles whitening as his entire focus honed in on a singular aspect of his being—the dragon will of Tiamat, etched deep into his silver mana core. Everything around him dulled, leaving only the hum of power building within.
His mana core roared to life, spinning with an intense brilliance as the will of the dragon awakened. Inferno Fury.
The very name burned in his mind—a power associated with fire, a force that could reduce the world to ashes. Ian's dragon will surged, and in an instant, his fire magic erupted, a torrent of orange flames enveloping his spear, molding perfectly to its shape.
This was his future. The one destined to surpass even his father, eventually rising to become the second most powerful fire mage in the world. Yet, as he stood there, blazing with a brilliance that would make lesser men tremble, Arthur's expression didn't change.
He stood opposite Ian with the same calm, detached gaze, as if the inferno Ian conjured wasn't even worth acknowledging.
That lack of reaction stung, a sharp reminder of the gulf between them. Ian gritted his teeth, the heat of his frustration mixing with the literal flames around him. Without hesitation, he propelled himself forward, a controlled explosion of mana beneath his feet sending him rocketing across the arena.
His spear, burning with molten energy, shot forward like a streak of fire, thrusting with all the force of his Grade 6 family art—Legend of Prominence.
Named after the Viserion Family heirloom, the Legendary-grade artifact forged from phoenix feathers and dragon scales, the art was the pinnacle of their lineage. The artifact itself currently rested in the hands of his father, the King of the South, but the technique had been drilled into Ian from childhood.
As Ian executed the first movement of his art, the flames roared louder, the spear cutting through the air with deadly precision. His momentum was unstoppable.
But in that moment, Arthur's eyes flickered—just barely, a subtle shift that betrayed nothing.
Ian's heart pounded as he watched Arthur casually raise his sword, as if prepared for anything Ian could throw at him.
And he did.
A faint cyan aura enveloped Arthur's sword as he effortlessly deflected Ian's spear, the clash of mana ringing out in the arena. Ian's red eyes widened in shock. How had Arthur brushed aside his attack so easily?
But it wasn't over. Not yet.
The first movement of the Legend of Prominence was far more than a simple thrust. It was a symphony of violence, a masterstroke of a Grade 6 art—a realm so high that most could only dream of glimpsing it. Ian's spear continued to weave through the air, attacking from impossible angles with a ferocity that created a blazing prison of strikes around Arthur.
A Nether Cage.
The fiery spear seemed to multiply, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next, creating a maelstrom of slashes and thrusts. The air warped under the heat, sparks flew, and the arena trembled with the sheer force behind the strikes. This was an attack that not even Ren or Lucifer would dismiss lightly—a Grade 6 art, after all, was a rare power, honed over generations to reach near-perfection.
But what of Arthur?
His gaze remained unchanged, steady and cold, reflecting the storm of fiery strikes coming at him. He moved with an ease that defied reason, his sword meeting Ian's onslaught at every point with calculated precision. Where Ian's flames roared, Arthur's cyan mana moved like a river, flowing and bending around the strikes, disrupting the rhythm of the Nether Cage.
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Though Ian's art was masterful, Arthur's mana rank advantage allowed him to dismantle the attack with a calm that seemed almost dismissive. Each time Ian attacked, Arthur was already there, intercepting and countering with a measured strike or a subtle movement of his blade. It was a display of overwhelming control, of sheer superiority in both skill and power.
However, Ian was no novice. He knew that basic movements couldn't compete with an art like this. The Nether Cage was relentless, designed to wear down even the most skilled opponent. Arthur's deflections weren't perfect—small openings began to appear, subtle but present. The weight of a Grade 6 art couldn't be denied.
But Arthur wasn't waiting to be cornered.
Just as Ian prepared another strike, Arthur shifted his weight, and with a swift movement, his foot lashed out in a sudden, brutal kick. His foot detonated with the force of a 4-circle spell, a shockwave of cyan mana erupting from the point of impact. The blast caught Ian mid-strike, throwing him off balance, the sheer force pushing him back across the arena.
The flames on Ian's spear flickered under the pressure, and his breath hitched as he struggled to steady himself.
Arthur, still standing at the center of the arena, lowered his leg with the same calm demeanor, his cyan aura flickering like a quiet storm around him.
The arena fell into stunned silence. Eyes wide, mouths slightly agape, the audience could scarcely believe what they had just witnessed. Arthur had dismantled Ian's assault with an ease that defied all expectations. But those most shocked were the ones who truly understood the gravity of what had just transpired—the five seated in the VVIP box.
"Is that for real?" Leon Viserion muttered, disbelief heavy in his voice. As a member of the Viserion family, he had been raised on the same Grade 6 art that Ian had just employed, and he knew better than most how devastating it could be. Yet Arthur had brushed it aside without breaking a sweat, without using his Gift or even casting a five-circle spell. There was a gulf of power between Ian and Arthur, yes, but even so… how?
"It is," Li Zenith replied, though even he was taken aback by what he'd just seen. His sharp eyes flicked towards Valerie, who seemed completely unfazed by the outcome. "You've turned him into a monster, Phantom Reaper," he sighed, invoking Valerie's infamous epithet.
Her shoulders twitched at the name, and she shot back with a glare. "Shut up, Lightning Dragon!" she spat, though the jab didn't have the intended effect. Li grinned, puffing up slightly at the mention of his own title, much to Valerie's irritation.
"His eyes are special," Duke Blazespout finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the conversation like steel. His gaze lingered on Arthur, a contemplative glint in his eyes.
"You're correct," Li agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "His reaction time and speed are on a different level. That's how he was able to read the flow of Ian's attacks and counter them so effortlessly."
"But even then," Leon interjected, still reeling, "is that even possible? You know how intricate Grade 6 arts are, right? They're practically sacred techniques! And Arthur handled the Nether Cage like it was nothing."
Valerie leaned back in her chair, her expression cool and unconcerned. "Of course it's possible," she replied, a hint of smugness in her voice. "He did it, didn't he?"
Li tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her. "By 'he'... you mean—"
They all knew who she was referring to. The weight of the name lingered in the air before anyone could speak it aloud.
The Martial King. The single most powerful being in the world.
The one who had shattered the limits of power long ago.
Leon leaned back, still trying to comprehend. "If Arthur is already this strong... then just how far will he go?"
Kem remained silent throughout the conversation, his gaze sharp and watchful as it lingered on Arthur Nightingale. The faintest flicker of wariness crossed his eyes, though he said nothing.
Valerie, however, broke the tension with a light chuckle, resting her head against her palm. "It's too early to be surprised," she remarked, her voice laced with amusement. "Arthur's about to show you something truly special in the next match."
"Interesting…" Duke Blazespout muttered, his curiosity piqued. If there was something more impressive than what Arthur had already demonstrated, he was eager to see it.
Meanwhile, on the stage, Ian stood motionless, his mind reeling from the effortless way Arthur had dismantled his Grade 6 art. He couldn't even attempt the second movement of Legend of Prominence in real combat yet, which meant his best techniques had already been exhausted, and Arthur remained untouched.
"As I thought, you're a monster," Ian finally chuckled, lifting his hands in surrender. There was no point in continuing. After what Arthur had shown, it was clear that Ian had no chance of even grazing him.