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Chapter 45: The Tournament II

The more powerful a concept is, the more difficult it is to understand, master, or control. Concepts such as fate, karma, chaos, reality, or infinity are some of the rarest concepts known to mankind, and sometimes centuries pass before anyone awakens them. But if a person manages to control any of these concepts, they will be revered, not as kings or rulers, but as gods.

Understanding concepts.

Professor Nicolaus Harding.

5th sector, Ragnarok.

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In the upper viewing room.

The principal, Zatya Malakov, along with a few other minor nobles, watched the arena games with an expression of boredom or disinterest. They were here only because it was customary as nobles of the 5th sector, but some watched with keen interest, like the Viscount of Argent, Curtis Harding, who shook his head for the dozenth time and said.

“I’m afraid this year’s crop of students is nothing special. I was hoping for more enthusiastic battles, but except for a few key contestants, the rest have shown themselves to be fools and utter weaklings.”

Zatya blinked as the Viscount’s words reached her ears, and she realized that she had zoned out once again. What pair was this? The 15th or 30th?

“Principal Malakov?” The Viscount called, and she turned towards him with a smile.

"Apologies, Viscount; my mind was elsewhere, but I’m just as disappointed as you are, and I fear that High Duke Lightus might have been wrong after all; giving Epic-grade bloodlines to students such as these is such a waste.”

“I can’t argue with that.” His wife, the countess, agreed. “Perhaps the bloodlines should be reduced to uncommon or even common grade.”

Baron Dorneval chuckled. “I still don’t understand why we bother with these commoners; if we need champions, why can’t we raise them from the nobles?”

“Because High Duke Lightus specifically asked that this opportunity be given to the commoners.” Countess Harding responded.

“Well, the tournament is far from over; perhaps we shall soon find something interesting.” Viscount Harding muttered as Professor Aleran called out the names of the 17th pair of contestants.

Zatya sighed as silence returned to the viewing room. The nobles were a thorn in her side that she just had to endure. She turned her attention back to the match as the bell rang, and her eyes widened slightly in appreciation as a long spear of lightning immediately shot out of the boy’s palms with the boom of thunder and pierced through the girl's chest.

With her aspectual control over time, she managed to freeze it just enough to pull the girl out of harm’s way. While time was still frozen, she inspected the spear construct and smiled when she saw the telltale sign of a glimpse with it.

Perhaps Lightus wasn’t so wrong after all. She muttered before returning to the viewing room with the spear for the gathered nobles to inspect.

“I can’t believe this.” The Viscount muttered in amazement. “A glimpse? Already?”

“It is definitely odd.” Baron Devereux muttered. “Such a thing would require an immense affinity with one’s element or concept, or perhaps, a tribulation.”

“It could also have been as a result of an origin plane breach.” Countess Harding added. “But still, to gain a glimpse at this age? His understanding of the element is yet immature.”

“That is true.” Principal Zatya agreed. “But even during the trials, he possessed excellent control, which seems only to have grown in the past week.”

As the nobles observed the signs of chaos in the spear, Zatya released her hold over time, and the world resumed. Such a feat had consumed a significant amount of energy and willpower, but for someone at her tier of advancement, it was almost as easy as breathing.

She placed the spear in her spatial ring before taking her seat, and this time, her mind remained focused on the tournament. If there were any more gems like the boy, then she couldn’t afford to miss them.

….

As the flow of time resumed, Professor Aleran coughed lightly. He’d seen what had happened, along with every other person above the 25th tier, but for the sake of the first-year students, he called out.

“Can we have the screens replay the last minute, please? I think our audience would greatly benefit from it.”

The screen glitched as it reversed, and at a much slower speed, the screen replayed the last minute, starting from the moment the contestants had walked onto the stage. The audience watched as the bell rang and a rippling spear of condensed lightning shot out of Aodhán’s hands and pierced into Lyra’s chest.

The screen glitched with static before resuming with a view of Lyra as blood pooled from her chest and healers rushed towards her. Everyone was surprised and amazed, but none more than Aodhán himself, who hadn’t expected the spear to move with such speed or force, but he had forgotten two things.

The first was that the last time he tested his skills with more than a single imbued strand, he had been at the 15th tier. His advancement to the 16th tier had increased his power and speed, which had inevitably done the same for his skills.

But tier advancement wasn't the sole reason for such an increase in power. The second thing he’d forgotten was that his control had improved greatly since that first day in the training room. A week ago, when he’d first mastered the perfect imbuement technique, he could only imbue two strands of willpower in less than a second, but now he could imbue a dozen in the same amount of time, if not less.

His control had increased so much that the power of a skill imbued with three willpower strands at that time was roughly comparable to one he imbued with a single strand now.

Aodhán stared at his hands in astonishment, forgetting the fact that he’d almost killed someone as the focus of the arena turned to him, and a feeling of power rose within him. Was this how Az felt when he singlehandedly destroyed sectors?

“Winner! Aodhán Ashoka Brystion!” Professor Aleran announced, and as cheers rose from the audience, Aodhán made his way back to the glass room, still in a daze as he reevaluated the power brimming within him.

Immediately he walked into the room. Rahim rushed forward and shouted. “That’s how you do it! That’s how you decimate your enemies! Take them out with the ferocity of a rabid beast!”

Aodhán laughed as Rahim wrapped an arm around him and led him to the seat beside him. The other students didn’t share Rahim’s enthusiasm, of course, as they’d just watched him impale a fellow contestant with a lightning spear, and more than a few of them shied away from his gaze, muttering the word psychopath.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

….

Daruk stared at the screen in astonishment as the scene replayed itself in slow motion. He had known Aodhán was powerful and had watched him train his abilities and harness his will. He had seen him meditate and fight, but he realized now that he'd had no idea just how powerful Aodhán was.

He wasn’t the only one who was amazed at the power Aodhán had just displayed. Andrew was shell-shocked beside him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. A din of confusion and amazement filled the air as students murmured in confusion and disbelief.

Aodhán had released an attack that was almost too fast for anyone below tier 23 to follow, and the wound on Lyra’s chest suggested that she’d been pulled out of harm’s way by a high-tiered individual.

“I can’t believe he was holding back on us during the training!” Andrew exclaimed, and a tingle of shame rushed through Daruk as he remembered his excitement yesterday about finally besting him.

Aodhán had been toying with them, and still, after three days of training, they’d only won once! As if that wasn’t bad enough, they were all the same tier!

He turned to stare at Lyra, who was shivering uncontrollably as the healers helped her to her feet. She was fine physically, but the poor girl had just dodged death by a hair’s breath. The knowledge that she could have died—would have—was sure to leave a mental scar or something.

“How long do we have to train to catch up to him?” Andrew asked as a flame of determination erupted within him.

Daruk’s mind flashed to the seven strands of imbued willpower he’d created this morning and gave a chilling smile. “Not long now, not long at all.”

After Aodhán’s match, Prof. Aleran called out the next pairs, and although they fought adequately well, they were still found lacking compared to the overwhelming performance of the last battle.

Time passed as more pairs came out to fight, with a few even doing surprisingly well, and Daruk weighed himself against them, wondering how he might fare if he were their opponent.

The first part of the tournament ended half an hour later, and the audience roared with excitement as the list on the holographic screen was updated, displaying a total of 22 names.

The center stage was soon replaced with a ring that caused the excitement of many to spike, but Daruk frowned in distaste. The crowd cheered loudly as people contemplated how the contestants would fare.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you all to the second part of the tournament!” Prof. Aleran shouted, and the crowd cheered in response.

“I like to call this particular challenge swords versus claws! As you know, this is a monster ring, and our contestants will be matched with a creature called the Bakhtwrangler! There are no rules in this challenge except survival; no one will be dying in this ring today, but many of them may eventually wish to do so,” he laughed at his own joke and continued. “With the power vested in me, I declare the second match open!”

Cheers rang out again as the holographic screen began to spin before settling on a name, and Prof. Aleran shouted. “First challenger, Yurin Lahey!”

The crowd cheered as one of his housemates, Awakened, limped into the challenge ring. His natural regeneration had healed most of his minor injuries, but the major ones still remained.

His expression was fixed into a mask of determination as the Tier 15 Bakhtwrangler prowled out of its cage and bared its fangs at the boy. The creature looked more like a snake, but with hard, scaly protrusions all over its body, giving it a sort of draconic appearance.

The bell rang to signal the beginning of the match, and Yurin charged at the monster with a sword of light blazing in his hands. The Bakhtwrangler roared in defiance as it struck out with a naturally armored tail that slammed into the boy's chest like a whip, throwing him back several meters.

A construct of light materialized around Yurin, slowly encasing his entire body, but his face remained exposed. The Bakhtwrangler coiled and attacked again, striking out with its fangs, and Yurin barely dodged in time due to his injured leg. Still, he struck out and stabbed his sword into the monster’s side, tearing through its scaly hide with ease.

The Bakhtwrangler cried out in pain and lashed out with its tail, tearing into Yurin’s skin as his armor shattered from the force. Yurin staggered back and fell to his knees, but an array of light swords soon materialized around him, each glowing with enough intensity to blind the monster.

The Bakhtwrangler reared back but struck out again, its coiled body surging forward with insane speed, shattering multiple constructs, but a sword stabbed into its neck and twisted to increase damage.

The Bakhtwrangler roared in pain, and the sound was so full of agony that Daruk almost sympathized with it. In its fury, the Bakhtwrangler lashed out with its tail once more, and Yurin was knocked back, tumbling through the air, only to land on his wounded foot.

The sound of cracking bones filled the arena, and Yurin let out a cry so filled with pain and agony that Daruk winced.

“Contestant, would you like to surrender?” Prof. Aleran asked, but Yurin ignored him. Before the professor could ask again, the Bakhtwrangler took advantage of Yurin’s distraction and struck forward.

Cries of fear and alarm echoed out from the gathered audience, but Yurin disappeared the next moment, and the monster slithered to a halt in confusion, its draconic head swinging back and forth as it searched for its opponent.

A moment of silence filled the arena as the audience watched with bated breaths.

There was a collective sigh of relief when Yurin suddenly appeared behind the monster, a massive spear construct held in his hands, and as the Bakhtwrangler turned, he lunged forward and stabbed the construct into its neck, piercing through bone and tissue with ease.

Blood spurted out of the Bakhtwrangler’s neck as it tried and failed to cry out in pain, but Yurin wasn’t done fighting. Several light spears materialized around him, and as one, they pierced into the monster, entering and exiting its body until it was completely riddled with holes.

Blood gushed out of the Bakhtwrangler as the light in its eyes died. The spears disappeared a moment later as Yurin crumbled to the blood-soaked ground. Now that the monster was dead, adrenaline drained out of him, leaving his body weary and weak.

The entire fight was brutal, bloody, and dirty—all of the things Daruk hated, but he couldn’t help the feeling of admiration that welled up within him. Andrew, on the other hand, was ecstatic, and his blood boiled at the grisly scene.

The bell rang a moment later, and Professor Aleran shouted. “Winner! Yurin Lahey!”

A roar of applause erupted from the stands as people clapped in excitement. Some cried, while others, like Daruk, simply looked on with an expression of both distaste and grudging admiration.

Others, like Andrew, shouted at the top of their voices, their blood boiling in excitement as their heartbeats pounded loudly in their ears.

“Amazing!” Andrew shouted. “Raol, I want to fight that guy!”

Daruk shook his head as the healers rushed to help Yurin, and someone cut out the core of the Bakhtwrangler for him to absorb.

A few minutes later, he was whole and healthy, and another roar of excitement rose up as he walked out of the stage. After a few more seconds, Professor Aleran called out the next challenger.

“Second challenger, Emily Stetson!”

Emily was a crystal awakened, which made the battle interesting enough, but compared to the previous battle, it wasn’t as inspiring or gruesome, which made Andrew snort in distaste.

More challengers came; some surrendered before the fight even began, while others surrendered just before the Bakhtwrangler swallowed them whole. There were many interesting battles, though, like the one between a sound awakened called Isis Anvindr, who utterly brutalized the Bakhtwrangler, ripping away its flesh until all that was left of it was tattered flesh and bone.

“19th challenger, Aodhán Ashoka Brystion!”

The audience cheered as Aodhán walked into the cage, and a moment later, a Bakhtwrangler was let out. The Bakhtwrangler roared as the bell rang, and without hesitation, it lunged at Aodhán, but that was its first and last mistake, as a lightning spear shot into the Bakhtwrangler’s mouth with a speed too fast to follow and exploded.

Daruk focused his gaze on the holographic screen as the head of the Bakhtwrangler exploded with a boom of thunder, and an entire half of it simply disintegrated, leaving behind the bottom half of the monster and a blackened skeleton.

The crowd cheered loudly as they contemplated the amount of damage a single skill had wrought on the Tier 15 monster. Professor Aleran soon called the 20th challenger, and before long, the second part of the tournament was over, reducing the number of contestants to fourteen.

A few minutes later, Professor Aleran announced the third and final challenge of the tournament.

“Awakened ladies and gentlemen, we have come to the final challenge of this tournament, which is a special simulated trial that we all know as the Tower of Ascension!”

The second holographic screen disappeared, leaving behind the one displaying a list of 14 names.

“The Tower of Ascension is a special type of dungeon that contains a monster on each level, starting from tier 1 all the way to tier 100. For the sake of this tournament, all the monsters have been adjusted to the evolved class, which means somewhere at the top of that tower is a Tier 100 evolved monster. How far can our contestants go? Well, we’re about to find out.”

The audience watched the screen as the contestants were teleported out of the arena and into the tower. Each name took on a greenish tint that indicated their status as present within the tower, and in front of each name was the number 0, which indicated the progress level of each contestant.

The bell rang a moment later, and almost immediately, the numbers changed as the contestants moved to the first level. In less than a minute, many of them had moved to the 3rd or 4th level, yet Aodhán’s progress remained at level 1, and Daruk wondered what was taking him so long.