A/N:Hey everyone! I hope you're all doing well. I want to take a moment to apologise for my recent absence—it's been a bit rocky on my end! I'm currently juggling my exam schedule, which has been quite overwhelming.
While I'm sorry for the delay, I'm also excited about getting back to writing soon. Your support means the world to me, and I can't wait to share new updates with you all.
Just a few more days, and we'll be back to our regular daily posts. Thank you for your understanding!
__
The stadium was roaring with life.
After the reveal of the fourth-round matchups, the anticipation in the air only continued to rise. Every spectator seated across the massive arena could feel it clearly now.
The tournament had finally reached the stage where weak contestants no longer existed.
Only monsters remained.
The repaired ground beneath the arena gleamed under the afternoon sunlight while the giant timer floating above the battlefield slowly ticked down.
3...
The crowd quieted.
2...
Contestants straightened their postures.
1...
A loud burst of light exploded across the stadium as the fourth round officially began.
The host returned alongside the judges while the referees quickly moved into position.
And without wasting time—
The first match started immediately.
The first contestant to enter the ground was Ben.
The same young man Edvarin had noticed earlier during the previous rounds.
His heavy steps echoed faintly as he walked toward the center of the arena, broad shoulders steady, thick bands of training weights still wrapped around his arms and legs.
Across from him stood a massive opponent carrying a brutal single-edged axe over his back.
The man looked like a wild beast ready to split mountains apart.
The moment the signal dropped—
Both rushed forward head-on.
No tricks.
No hesitation.
Only raw strength.
BOOM!
The clash between axe and gauntlet rang through the arena.
Dust burst upward beneath their feet as both fighters pushed against each other with terrifying force.
Each collision shook the ground slightly.
Each exchange carried enough weight to break bones.
The axe user clearly possessed slightly greater physical strength.
Every downward strike from his weapon carried immense pressure.
But Ben never backed away.
He met every blow directly.
His arms trembled.
His muscles tightened.
Yet his footing never broke.
Minutes passed.
Sweat slowly began covering the axe wielder's face while Ben's breathing remained relatively stable.
The difference finally became visible.
The crowd started noticing it too.
Ben was still carrying those absurd training weights.
And despite that—
His stamina was overwhelming his opponent completely.
The axe wielder gritted his teeth and swung harder, trying to finish the match before exhaustion swallowed him whole.
But Ben no longer gave him room.
The moment he noticed the cracks in his opponent's rhythm—
He advanced.
Relentlessly.
One punch.
Two strikes.
A shoulder tackle.
The axe wielder stumbled backwards repeatedly, his arms growing heavier with every exchange.
His swings became slower.
Sloppier.
Then—
Ben stepped in.
His fist slammed directly into the man's stomach.
The impact folded the fighter forward instantly.
Before he could recover—
Ben grabbed his arm, twisted his body, and threw him straight out of the arena.
The crowd erupted.
Not because the match was flashy—
But because it was clean.
Disciplined.
Overwhelming in a completely different way.
Ben simply exhaled slowly and walked away from the arena without even removing his weights.
Not a single major injury covered his body.
Meanwhile, the ground repair staff looked nearly emotional from relief.
The battlefield barely had any damage.
For once, they didn't need to rebuild half the arena.
The second match began shortly afterwards.
This time—
Two noble heirs stepped onto the battlefield.
A young woman carrying a sleek black spear.
And opposite her—
A handsome swordsman with sharp features and calm eyes that looked as cold as polished steel.
The moment both saw each other—
Rey immediately understood.
These two knew each other well.
Very well.
The match started.
And instantly turned into something entirely different from the previous battle.
Elegant.
Fast.
Precise.
The girl's spear danced through the air continuously, thrusting toward every blind spot possible.
But the swordsman avoided each strike with frightening familiarity.
A slight tilt of the shoulder.
A single shift of his foot.
Every movement felt practised.
Expected.
It looked less like a battle—
And more like two people repeating a deadly dance they had performed countless times before.
Rey quietly observed from the stands.
His sharp eyes followed their footwork carefully.
'They've fought each other many times...'
He could tell immediately.
You couldn't predict an opponent's body movement to this extent without experience.
Neither side managed to dominate.
Both understood each other too well.
Every attack was answered instantly.
Every feint was seen through midway.
But eventually—
The difference in stamina surfaced.
The spear consumed far more energy.
And as the battle dragged on, the girl's breathing gradually became uneven while the swordsman maintained his rhythm.
One opening.
One delayed thrust.
One missed recovery step.
The swordsman stepped in immediately.
His blade stopped inches away from her throat.
The match ended there.
Neither side looked particularly happy or disappointed.
Almost like both had already accepted any result beforehand.
They exchanged a quiet glance—
Then walked away.
The crowd applauded politely.
But everyone knew.
The true excitement hadn't arrived yet.
Because now—
The third match was about to begin.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Gravion walked onto the battlefield calmly.
A dark cloak covered most of his body while his familiar mask hid his face completely.
The spear resting behind his back looked quiet—
But dangerous.
Meanwhile, on the opposite side—
Another young man entered.
Black hair.
Sharp eyes.
And faint crimson markings glowing near his arms.
He wore lightweight leather armour while strange metallic gloves covered both his hands.
The gloves pulsed faintly with heat.
The moment Gravion saw them—
A faint smile spread beneath his mask.
"It'll be my pleasure to fight you, Rylen..."
His voice carried lightly across the battlefield.
"…the Flame Monger."
Rylen frowned immediately.
"Hah? Flame Monger?"
He cracked his neck with annoyance.
"What kind of ridiculous title is that?"
Flames flickered around his fingers.
"Doesn't matter."
A grin spread over his face.
"Just come here and get burned to ashes."
Behind the mask—
Gravion's eyes narrowed slightly.
'No...
You still haven't earned that title yet.'
His thoughts drifted briefly.
Toward another battlefield.
Another future.
A sea of corpses.
Burning skies.
And flames so bright they rivalled the sun itself.
Rylen standing at the center of it all.
Laughing while burning alongside a Demon Lord.
Turning himself into a living inferno just to drag his enemy into death with him.
'You were never weak.
Just... unnoticed.
One of the hidden monsters of the Apocalypse.'
Gravion slowly flexed his fingers.
'But right now...
You're still immature.'
The referee raised his hand quickly.
"Both contestants ready…"
A pause.
"Begin!"
The referee vanished backwards instantly.
And not even a second later—
A massive fireball blasted through the exact position where he had been standing moments ago.
The crowd jolted in shock.
Rylen had attacked immediately.
The blazing fireball roared across the arena toward Gravion like a miniature meteor.
Heat exploded outward.
The air distorted visibly.
But Gravion—
Didn't move.
Gasps spread through the stadium.
Some spectators even stood up in alarm.
The fireball swallowed him whole.
Flames exploded outward violently, engulfing his entire figure.
Rylen smirked.
"Done already?"
But then—
His expression shifted.
Movement.
Inside the flames.
A sharp sweeping sound suddenly cut through the inferno.
WHOOSH!
The flames split apart instantly.
Extinguished.
Scattered.
Gravion stepped forward calmly through the fading heat.
His cloak had burned away partially, revealing simple black leather armour beneath.
A few scorch marks covered the fabric.
But his body?
Completely unharmed.
The stadium fell silent for a second.
Gravion casually rested the spear back onto his shoulder.
Then tilted his head slightly.
"Come again."
A faint mocking tone slipped into his voice.
"That much won't be enough to win."
Rylen's smile slowly disappeared.
The playful confidence in his eyes faded into seriousness.
Then—
Without another word—
He condensed two blazing fireballs in both hands simultaneously.
And hurled them forward.
But this time, the intensity of the flames and the force behind them were completely different from before.
The heat distorted the air itself as the two fireballs tore across the arena like miniature suns.
But this time, Gravion's expression finally changed.
His body shifted half a step backwards.
Then—
BOOM!
He slammed his fist directly into the incoming flames.
Much to everyone's disbelief, instead of being swallowed whole, the fireballs exploded apart on impact.
The flames were ripped open like torn cloth.
Scattered embers burst across the battlefield like crashing waves of molten sparks.
Fire spread across the ground instantly.
Even the referee cursed inwardly as he pressed himself against the protective wall, afraid of getting dragged into the blaze.
"Rylen…" Gravion's voice echoed calmly through the burning field.
"Are you making a joke here?"
He slowly lowered his smoking fist.
"These tiny flames won't work against me."
His eyes narrowed beneath the mask.
"Bring out your best… otherwise, you won't even be qualified to compete against me."
The crowd erupted instantly.
The arrogance in his words alone was enough to make people's scalps tingle.
Meanwhile, Rylen, who had been shocked for a brief second, suddenly smirked.
A strange smirk.
One that didn't escape Gravion's eyes.
Gravion's instincts sharpened instantly.
His gaze swept across the battlefield.
Left.
Right.
Behind.
But before he could move—
A chill crawled up his spine.
Danger.
Not from one direction.
But from every direction at once.
His senses tightened immediately.
The entire arena around him was still burning from the scattered flames earlier.
And now…
Those flames were moving.
Rylen stood in the distance with both hands raised high in the air.
"Hahahaha…!"
His laughter echoed wildly through the stadium.
"Let me show you the wrath of these tiny flames!"
CLAP!
The moment his palms collided, every scattered flame across the battlefield trembled violently.
Then—
WHOOM!
The fire surged toward Gravion from every direction like a tidal wave.
A gigantic vortex of flames formed around him instantly.
The spiralling inferno swallowed Gravion whole.
The crowd stared with widened eyes.
Even several old nobles leaned forward unconsciously.
This wasn't simple fire manipulation anymore.
This was control.
Precise.
Refined.
Deadly.
"Hmmm… this child truly is a gem," one of the old nobles muttered while stroking his beard.
"To possess such refined flame control at this age… his parents were surely powerful warriors."
Several others nodded silently.
Strong bloodlines often produced talented descendants.
The Duke's lineage.
The Royal Family.
They were living proof.
Meanwhile, Rylen clenched his hands tighter.
The flaming vortex began shrinking rapidly.
Compressing inward.
The temperature inside rose higher and higher as he tried crushing Gravion alive within the inferno.
The flames screamed violently.
The arena floor beneath the vortex started melting from the sheer heat.
But then—
A voice echoed calmly from inside the flames.
"Yes…"
The vortex trembled slightly.
"That's it…"
A sharp pressure spread outward.
"You really never stop amazing me."
Rylen's smile slowly disappeared.
Then the voice came again.
"Let me show you some respect."
The next second—
SHIIIIING!
A sleek silver line suddenly appeared across the flaming vortex.
For a single moment…
Everything froze.
Then the entire vortex split apart.
BOOOOM!
The inferno exploded outward violently as Rylen instantly lost control over the flames.
The spiralling fire dispersed into the air like shattered glass.
And from within the collapsing flames—
Gravion walked out.
This time, however…
The bandages wrapped around his spear had almost completely burned away.
Its true form was finally revealed.
And the moment everyone saw it—
The stadium shook.
Several nobles stood up from their seats instinctively.
Even Rey's eyes narrowed slightly.
Because that spear…
Did not resemble a normal weapon at all.
Its long black shaft was forged from a strange hybrid of enhanced spirit wood and dark metallic alloy.
The surface carried faint engraved patterns that pulsed dimly beneath the heat.
But the true terrifying part…
Was the spearhead.
It gleamed like a crescent moon beneath the sunlight.
Cold.
Sharp.
Deadly.
Its silver radiance completely overshadowed the dark shaft behind it.
Just looking at its tip made people feel as though their throats were being pierced.
An oppressive aura radiated from the weapon naturally.
Even ordinary warriors could instantly tell—
This was no ordinary spear.
Inside the Valemont stands, both Edvarin and Gareth had serious expressions.
"Oii, old fox…" Edvarin muttered slowly.
"Tell me honestly… is that truly real?"
His eyes stayed fixed on the spear.
"A Stage-3 weapon…?"
Gareth remained silent for a moment before answering.
"…It's real."
Even his voice carried slight disbelief.
"I didn't expect someone in this tournament to possess such a weapon."
His eyes sharpened.
"Either that boy is hiding an enormous background…"
"Or someone powerful enough to possess Stage-3 beast materials is backing him."
The surrounding nobles fell into discussion instantly.
Because everyone understood exactly what a Stage-3 weapon represented.
It was no longer within the category of 'normal.'
Stage-3 was the beginning of transcendence.
The point where both beasts and martial artists evolved beyond ordinary physical limits.
Vitality strengthened dramatically.
Bodies transformed.
Strength, endurance, lifespan…
Everything experienced a qualitative leap.
And the materials required to forge such weapons came from terrifying beasts existing beyond common imagination.
Even obtaining a fragment of such material required millions of Dracins.
Not Dragon Points.
Dracins.
An amount unreachable even for most Apprentice-ranked warriors.
And now…
Such a weapon was being wielded by a contestant in the Ranking Tournament.
Meanwhile, Rylen barely cared about the spear anymore.
His anger had already reached its peak.
The humiliation.
The pressure.
The mocking tone.
Everything exploded together.
BOOOOOOM!
Flames erupted from his body at full output.
This time, it wasn't merely fireballs.
A sea of flames exploded across the battlefield like a volcanic eruption.
The entire arena became an ocean of fire.
Heatwaves slammed into the audience stands.
People near the front panicked immediately.
But the Host finally moved.
He raised one hand calmly.
A massive invisible barrier spread across the stadium instantly, blocking the flames from reaching the audience.
Yet his eyes remained focused on the battlefield.
As though he was observing something deeper hidden within the inferno.
Waiting.
Searching.
And then—
It happened.
A shift occurred inside the flames.
SHING!
A thrust shot out from within the inferno so fast that almost nobody could react.
The sea of fire split apart instantly.
The flames were erased in a single line.
And from within—
Gravion emerged again.
But no longer untouched.
Half his armour had burned away.
Part of his mask was cracked and charred black from the flames.
Even the spear itself had turned red-hot from enduring the heat.
Yet despite everything—
Not a single crack existed on its frame.
Gravion slowly swung the spear once.
The remaining flames across the battlefield were blown away completely.
His eyes locked onto Rylen.
Rylen stood frozen.
A thin graze of blood slowly appeared across his cheek.
His legs trembled uncontrollably.
The attack earlier hadn't merely dispersed the flames.
It had stopped him completely.
At that moment, everyone believed the match was over.
Rylen was shaking under overwhelming pressure.
While Gravion stood before him like an immovable monster, crushing every attack head-on.
Anyone with weaker willpower would have already collapsed to their knees.
And that was exactly what the crowd expected to happen next.
Everyone…
Except Gravion.
Because behind the mask, his eyes weren't disappointed.
They were waiting.
Searching.
Anticipating something.
And then—
The thing he had been waiting for finally appeared.
The next moment—
The entire stadium fell silent.
Because no one understood what had just happened.