The cheers from Block A had barely subsided, but the air in the Boro Arena remained electric. The name Sable Kaelo was already being whispered in every corner of the stands. A young boy, barely ten years old, had entered the ring as an SR 2 and dismantled an SR 3 veteran. It was the kind of underdog story the citizens of Boro lived for.
But the tournament waited for no one. The giant sand-covered floor was being raked clean of the blood and debris from the first round. Above the roar of the crowd, the announcer Jasper's voice boomed through the magical amplification stones.
-"Block A has given us our first miracle! But the path to the championship is long. Block B participants, Numbers 101 to 200, enter the arena!"
Luke stood at the edge of the tunnel, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his sword. He could feel the eyes of his teammates—Rim and Mason—on his back.
-"Don't let Kaelo have all the glory," Mason said with a steadying pat on his shoulder.
-"I won't," Luke muttered, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Since joining the 'Blue Sky' party, Luke had felt a desperate need to keep up. In just one week, under Kaelo's strange and effective guidance, they had all reached the milestone of Slayer Rank 2. For a thirteen-year-old orphan who had spent years scraping by, this felt like a dream. But today, he had to prove it wasn't a fluke.
As he stepped onto the sand, the gates groaned shut behind him. One hundred warriors stood in a tense circle. The rules remained the same: last one standing wins.
-"Begin!" Jasper roared.
The arena erupted. Luke didn't wait. He activated his Circulation immediately, feeling the warm flow of Atara coursing through his meridians. He moved like a blur, his blade parrying a heavy axe from his left and transitioning into a swift kick that sent a spearman sprawling. Within the first few minutes, the referee was already calling out numbers.
-"Numbers 108, 146, 189 are out! Eighty participants remain!"
While Luke focused on survival, a more violent spectacle was unfolding on the far side of the ring. Two titans had collided, and the shockwaves of their battle were forcing other participants to scramble away.
-"Who are you to stand in my way?" a massive man bellowed. His name was Ashula, a user of the rare Language path.
-"The man who's going to take your token," a leaner fighter replied, spinning a pair of jagged daggers."I'm Loyd."
Ashula didn't argue. He raised his hand, tracing glowing blue characters in the air with his Atara.
-"Let the flames of the heavens coat my blade!" he commanded.
As the last syllable left his lips, his massive broadsword ignited in a pillar of roaring fire. He swung it with a grunt of effort. Loyd, however, was no amateur. He was a practitioner of the Geometric Path. With a flick of his wrists, two glowing violet Hexagon Magic Circles manifested in front of him, acting as shields.
BOOM!
The collision sent a shower of sparks across the arena. The two of them leaped into the air, their movements so fast that the common spectators could only see flashes of fire and violet light. They were fighting with a level of intensity that far surpassed the typical Rank 2 struggle.
-"They're too fast!" someone in the crowd yelled. "I can't even see their blades!"
By the time the two titans landed back on the sand, thirty participants were left. Luke was among them, his breathing heavy, his tunic stained with dust and sweat. He watched Ashula and Loyd, realizing that if he wanted to win, he would eventually have to face one of them.
Ashula, sensing the end of the round was near, pushed his Atara to the breaking point.
-"This ends now! Let the blue flames of purgatory consume all!"
The fire on his blade shifted from orange to a haunting, brilliant blue. The heat was so intense it began to vitrify the sand beneath him into glass. Loyd responded by drawing a Double Hexagon Shield, reinforcing his daggers until they glowed with a blinding light.
The two of them charged. When they met in the center, the explosion of energy was so violent that the arena guards had to activate the protective barriers for the audience. Both Ashula and Loyd were sent flying in opposite directions, slamming into the stone walls with enough force to leave craters.
-"Numbers 167 and 190 are incapacitated!" Jasper shouted. "Only three remain!"
Ashula and Loyd tried to stand, but their bodies gave out, their Atara cores completely drained. They were dragged out by the medical teams.
Luke stood in the center of the ring, the only one still standing with his sword drawn. He had played the long game, conserving his energy while the giants eliminated each other.
-"The winner of Block B is Number 125... Luke!"
Luke let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked toward the infirmary where Ashula and Loyd were being treated. The two warriors caught his eye and gave a small, respectful nod. They knew they had beaten each other, but they respected the kid who was smart enough to survive the storm.
The tournament continued with Block C.
Jasper's voice was now full of theatrical excitement. -"We've had two upsets from the newcomers of 'Blue Sky'! Will the streak continue?"
Rim stepped into the ring. She was a Prayer user, a path that relied on faith and connection to the divine entities of Aster. She stood amidst the chaos of the melee, her eyes closed, her hands clasped.
-"I am a disciple of the God, Hariro!" she chanted, her voice cutting through the noise. -"By the grace of the Eternal Flame, grant me the strength to purge my foes!"
Massive spheres of concentrated heat manifested around her, orbiting like miniature suns. She launched them into the crowd, creating explosions of light that sent groups of Slayers flying. For a moment, it looked like she would win.
However, a fighter named Bister, a specialist in Illusion/Sleep Magic, managed to sneak into her blind spot. He released a cloud of shimmering purple dust. Rim, exhausted from her large-scale spells, couldn't react in time. She slumped to the ground, deep in a magical slumber.
-"Block C winner... Bister!"
In Block D, Mason faced a similar fate. She fought valiantly with his Incantations, freezing large sections of the arena to trap his opponents. But he met his match in a female Slayer named Charlotte. She was a Rank 3 speedster who moved faster than Mason could finish his chants. With a swift strike to his pressure points, Mason was forced to concede.
Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. The atmosphere in the arena changed instantly. The rowdy cheers turned into a low, respectful hum.
-"And now," Jasper whispered into the stone, his voice trembling with genuine awe. -"The man who needs no introduction. The only SR 4 Slayer in Boro City. The five-time reigning Bairoya Champion... THOLAC!"
The gates for Block E slid open. A man walked out, but he didn't look like a warrior. He looked like a king. Tholac was tall, with cold, obsidian eyes and a presence that seemed to suck the air out of the room. He didn't carry a sword or wear armor. He simply wore a black vest, his arms crossed over his chest.
One hundred Slayers surrounded him. Some were Rank 3 veterans, others were ambitious newcomers. They all charged at once, sensing that their only hope was to overwhelm him with numbers.
Tholac didn't move.
Suddenly, a shockwave of pure, unadulterated Atara exploded from his body. It wasn't a spell or a technique—it was just the sheer pressure of his existence. Slayers were tossed aside like autumn leaves in a hurricane.
He moved then, a blur of black. He didn't use weapons; he used the palms of his hands. With every light tap, a participant was sent soaring across the arena, their armor shattering and their consciousness fading instantly.
It hadn't even been ten minutes.
-"A new record!" Jasper screamed, barely able to contain himself. -"Block E is over in less than ten minutes! The winner is Tholac!"
Tholac stood in the center of a field of fallen bodies. He didn't look tired. He didn't even look like he had exerted himself. His cold gaze drifted toward the waiting area where Kaelo and Luke were standing.
There was no respect in his eyes—only a profound, crushing indifference. To him, they weren't rivals. They were just insects waiting to be stepped on.
The stage was set. The five winners—Kaelo, Luke, Bister, Charlotte, and Tholac—would now face each other.