Arin was happy.
For the first time since entering Heaven's tournament, he felt at ease.
He stood within the preparation chamber, stretching lightly, rolling his shoulders as though preparing for a casual spar.
Across from him, beyond the corridor walls, the crowd roared in anticipation.
But inside?
He felt relief.
Finally… a proper excuse.
Kaelthar.
Son of the God of War.
Previous champion.
Brutal. Aggressive. Untouched by defeat.
If Arin surrendered here—
No one would question it.
No divine punishment.
No suspicious looks.
No goddess warnings.
Just a logical, dignified retreat.
He smiled faintly.
"Peaceful life… I'm coming."
---
War God's Chamber
Within a private crimson hall overlooking the arena, Dravakar stood behind his son.
Kaelthar knelt on one knee, adjusting the gauntlet wrapped around his forearm. His body bore old scars — not decorative, not ceremonial — earned.
Dravakar's voice was low. Heavy.
"Do not hold back."
Kaelthar did not look up.
"I never intended to."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Dravakar's lips curled faintly.
"Good."
There was no affection in the exchange.
Only expectation.
---
The Announcement
The Arena blazed with golden light.
The announcer descended onto the central platform, voice amplified through divine resonance.
"Lords and Ladies of Heaven! We now approach the semi-finals!"
The crowd erupted.
"On one side— the unexpected irregular! The human who forced surrender! The anomaly who devoured divine power!"
Mixed reactions.
Cheers.
Scoffs.
Mocking laughter.
"And on the other—!"
The projection crystal ignited crimson.
"The undefeated champion of the previous tournament! Son of the God of War himself!"
The ground trembled slightly as the name burned into existence.
"KAELTHAR!"
The stadium exploded.
War chants.
Thunderous stomping.
The atmosphere thickened.
"And his opponent— ARIN!"
The noise shifted.
Less unified.
Curiosity.
Doubt.
Anticipation.
Both gates opened.
Kaelthar stepped out first.
Silent.
Massive presence.
Crimson eyes steady.
Then Arin stepped onto the battlefield.
He waved awkwardly.
"Hello."
The crowd responded with a mixture of laughter and boos.
Kaelthar did not speak.
He simply watched.
Arin met his gaze and felt it immediately.
Predator.
Not prideful.
Not mocking.
Predatory.
Arin swallowed lightly.
That's fine. I surrender quickly.
The announcer raised his hand.
"Begin!"
---
Impact
Kaelthar vanished.
There was no buildup.
No stance.
No warning.
Just—
Gone.
Arin's eyes widened.
"What—"
A fist buried itself into his stomach.
The sound was not a crack.
It was a deep, concussive boom.
Cutie reacted instantly, cushioning the impact, preventing fatal rupture.
But the force—
The force was overwhelming.
Arin's body left the ground.
He flew across the battlefield like debris.
And slammed into the arena wall with violent impact.
Stone shattered.
Dust erupted.
Silence.
Then gasps.
Arin slid down the cracked surface, coughing violently.
Blood spilled from his lips.
His vision blurred.
What the—
He hadn't even raised his hand.
He hadn't even opened his mouth to surrender.
His ears rang.
His body trembled.
He tried to stand.
Failed.
Through the haze, he heard them.
The crowd.
"Is that it?"
"So much for the irregular."
"Trash."
"Lucky fraud."
"He was nothing."
On Earth, he had heard worse.
He had ignored worse.
Mockery never touched him.
He adapted.
Survived.
Ignored.
But now—
It felt different.
Not humiliation.
Not anger.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Something sharp.
Kaelthar stood before him.
Towering.
Silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"I expected more."
His voice was not loud.
But it carried.
"You are not worth the stories they told."
He leaned slightly closer.
"A mere human should know his place."
That was unusual.
Kaelthar did not taunt opponents.
But Arin—
He wanted to see something break.
Arin's hand slowly rose to his face.
And then—
He smiled.
Softly.
Kaelthar narrowed his eyes.
"I suppose you have lost your senses."
Arin's voice was calm.
Almost amused.
"Don't blame me."
His fingers slid away from his eyes.
"You brought this upon yourself."
Kaelthar raised an eyebrow.
---
Permission
Until now—
Cutie had been nibbling.
Taking small bites.
Always restrained.
Always listening.
Always limited.
Arin closed his eyes briefly.
Inside his fading consciousness, he whispered.
"…Absorb."
For a heartbeat—
Nothing changed.
Then—
The air shifted.
Subtly.
Mana in the atmosphere trembled.
Then flowed.
Not violently.
Not yet.
Just—
Drawn.
Like invisible threads being pulled toward Arin.
Kaelthar stepped back instinctively.
The Arena lights flickered.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"What is happening?"
The flow increased.
Rapidly.
Violently.
Mana surged from the battlefield floor.
From the sky.
From the barrier.
From spectators.
Lesser gods gasped as they felt their reserves draining.
Elder gods' expressions shifted.
Nytherion's eyes sharpened.
Solmireth leaned forward slightly.
Even she—
Felt it.
Mana left her domain.
Pulled.
Fed.
Cutie was full.
Overflowing.
The Arena became dimmer as divine light thinned.
Kaelthar's body stiffened.
He felt something gathering in Arin's hand.
Condensing.
Compressing.
Pure mana.
Not refined.
Not shaped.
Just compressed existence.
Arin's posture shifted.
One leg braced.
One knee bent.
Back against the cracked wall.
His hand extended forward.
The condensed mass of energy formed above his palm.
Dense.
Unstable.
Monstrous.
The barrier around the Arena flickered wildly.
It would not withstand that release.
If fired—
Kaelthar would die.
The front rows would die.
Perhaps thousands.
Arin looked at him through half-lidded eyes.
"…Survive."
And he released it.
The recoil was immediate.
The sheer force tore through his arm.
Bone shattered.
Flesh ripped.
His hand disintegrated from wrist upward.
Blood sprayed.
But the blast—
It moved.
Fast.
Faster than Kaelthar had ever seen.
Death.
Approaching.
---
Time
Before impact—
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The world froze.
Dust hung in the air.
Mana halted mid-flow.
The blast suspended inches from Kaelthar's chest.
Only the Elder Gods could move.
She stood.
For the first time in this tournament—
She acted.
Time obeyed.
Dravakar was already moving.
He appeared before his son in an instant, stepping into the frozen current of destruction.
He did not hesitate.
He struck the suspended mass with divine force.
Crimson energy erupted.
The condensed mana shattered like a star collapsing inward.
Destroyed.
Erased.
Even within frozen time, the shockwave would have been catastrophic.
She contained it.
Silently.
Without expression.
When the danger was nullified—
She released time.
---
After
Sound returned.
The crowd blinked.
Confused.
From their perspective—
Arin had formed something.
And then—
It vanished.
Dravakar stood before Kaelthar.
Arin lay collapsed against the wall.
His right arm gone.
Blood pooling beneath him.
The Arena barrier flickered weakly.
Spectators stared in stunned silence.
"What just happened?"
"Where did the attack go?"
"Why is the War God on the field?"
Kaelthar stood frozen.
For the first time in his life—
He had seen death clearly.
And it had been real.
Dravakar looked down at his son.
"You will not underestimate prey again."
Then he disappeared.
Arin's body slumped fully to the ground.
Unconscious.
His breathing shallow.
His remaining hand twitching slightly.
Above—
The Elder Gods said nothing.
But something had changed.
They had all felt it.
Not technique.
Not blessing.
Not divine authority.
Consumption.
Ancient.
Unrestrained.
And public.
The tournament had just stopped being entertainment.
It had become a problem.